riki, your ex-boyfriend, calls you at 2:47 a.m., again.

you stare at your phone, torn between declining and picking up. the second you hear his sleepy "hey," you know it was pointless to fight.

"why are you awake?" you ask, even though you know the answer.

"couldn’t sleep," he mumbles. "guess what? i finally beat that guy on brawl stars. the one who always uses leon."

you blink, trying to catch up. "the one with the green hoodie?"

"yes!" his voice perks up, soft and warm, like a blanket fresh from the dryer. "you remember?"

"you only ranted about it a hundred times," you reply, rolling your eyes, though your lips betray you with a smile.

he laughs, low and raspy. "well, i won, babe."

you freeze at the nickname, your heart doing that stupid flutter thing it always does. but you don’t correct him.

"you should’ve seen it," he continues, oblivious or pretending to be. "it was intense: last man standing. i carried my whole team."

"you’re so full of yourself," you said.

"and you love it," he shoots back without missing a beat.

you go quiet, the playful energy hanging in the air like an unsaid confession.

"riki," you whisper.

"don’t," he cuts in, softer now, like he knows what’s coming. "just… let me talk, okay? let me tell you how annoying that guy was. let me-"

"pretend?" you finish for him.

he doesn’t answer. the silence says more than his words ever could.

you hear him sigh, long and tired. "sorry. i just… i missed talking to you. like this. about nothing."

your chest tightens, and you close your eyes, wishing you could tell him to stop. but you don’t.

because, truthfully, you missed this too.