⋆˚࿔⋆˚࿔⋆

the house is quite.

too quiet for a house that used to be filled with so much joy and laughter.

matt sits on the edge of the bed, elbows on his knees, promise ring turning over and over between his trembling fingers. the room is dim. not because the lights are off, but because everything feels muted now—like even the walls know something is ending.

you stand near the door, arms crossed, eyes red but dry. you’ve cried enough. so has he. now it’s just this: a stillness thick with everything you never said.

he breathes in, shaky. the silver band glints in the low light. it still fits his pinky perfectly.

⋆˚࿔⋆˚࿔⋆