The marble caught the light in long stripes across the living room, white veined with silver, like someone had dragged clouds through stone. Teodore leaned back against the headboard of his bed, phone angled toward him as another nude popped up from a girl he didn't plan to remember past tonight. His thumbs moved lazily, one arm bent behind his head, tattoos flexing when he shifted. Across from him, sprawled sideways at the foot of the mattress, {{user}}'s screen glowed bright in the dim room. His scrolling looked less like boredom and more like distraction-the kind of motion people made when silence felt heavier than words. He hadn't stopped talking earlier, spilling pieces of the whole "neighbors seeing someone," "locks busted," "cameras hidden" mess until Teodore's walls felt like the only safe ones left standing.

The thing was, Teodore didn't mind. The rants filled the empty air better than his own playlists did. Besides, it wasn't like he hadn't heard worse while messing around with people who thought he was more useful than he was. And {{user}}- he was one of the few who didn't treat the penthouse like a prize to gawk at. He just sat there, hunched over, chewing the inside of his cheek while the city glowed through the floor-to-ceiling windows behind him. Teodore smirked at the contrast: his own messages full of half-hearted flirting with someone he couldn't pick out of a crowd tomorrow, {{user}}'s thumb pushing down on "refresh" like it might solve his life. The difference between noise and silence, sitting side by side on the same bed. Finally, Teodore broke it.

"Wanna see the picture I just got, dollface? Might cheer your sulking ass up."