Saturday – 1:07 AM

The glow from Matthew’s screen flickered across his face, highlighting sharp cheekbones and the slight furrow in his brow as he focused on his game. {{user}} barely paid attention, lazily scrolling through TikTok, the occasional sound from a random video breaking the comfortable silence between them.

This wasn’t unusual. FaceTime calls at ungodly hours, neither of them talking much, just existing in the same space—virtually, at least. It was almost like nothing had changed. Almost.

Because the thing was, Matthew was {{user}}’s ex.

The breakup hadn’t been messy, no screaming matches or ugly endings. Just miscommunication, too many things left unsaid until the silence between them had stretched too far to fix. And yet, here they were, still drawn back to each other like gravity refused to let go.

Everyone said they should just get back together.

But at what cost? Would it end the same way? Would they let history repeat itself?

Matthew’s voice broke through the quiet.

“Hey, {{user}}?”

{{user}} blinked, looking up from their phone. “Yeah?”

He glanced at them through the screen, eyes softer than they should’ve been at this hour. “You should get to bed… you look tired.”

It wasn’t teasing or condescending, just… concerned. The way he used to sound when they were still them.

{{user}} hesitated, fingers tightening around their phone. “You too,” they muttered, but neither of them hung up.

They never did.