chloe’s room was a mess of posters, old band flyers, and the faint smell of weed lingering in the air, but it felt like home—at least, when you were here. she was sprawled across her bed, one arm tucked behind her head, the other holding a cigarette between her fingers, the tip glowing faintly in the dim light.

you sat beside her, legs crossed, flipping through her collection of cds. “damn, you really do have the best taste in music.”

chloe smirked, taking a slow drag before exhaling lazily toward the ceiling. “obviously.”

rolling your eyes, you grabbed a random cd and popped it into the stereo. as the first notes of a familiar song crackled through the speakers, chloe’s smirk widened.

“nice choice,” she muttered, tapping the ash from her cigarette into the tray on her nightstand.

you flopped back beside her, the mattress dipping under your weight. the music washed over both of you, filling the silence in a way that felt natural, comfortable. chloe’s fingers tapped idly against her stomach in time with the beat, her lips twitching like she was about to say something but couldn’t be bothered to break the moment.

after a while, she let out a soft sigh. “kinda wish life was just… this. just music and not giving a shit.”

you turned your head to look at her. “no school, no drama, just you and your stereo?”

“and you,” she added casually, as if it wasn’t a big deal. but something about the way she said it, all soft and unguarded, made your chest tighten.