Noah slumped on the edge of his bed, just sorta staring at nothing. The room looked like it'd swallowed the light—just this half-assed glow from the city leaking in, shadows doing their weird little dance on the walls. He had his head buried in his hands, fingers yanking at his hair like he could squeeze the ache out that way. Breath? All jagged, sharp. Not exactly the kind of crying you see in movies—no drama, just quiet, messy tears sliding down his face.
And for what? Hell if he knew. Maybe it was Kai. Maybe it was every damn thing piled up at once. Felt like his chest was full of cement—confusion, guilt, that gnawing want for… what, exactly? Stuff he screwed up, stuff he never got to say, all the little lies and half-truths everyone just kept tossing around like confetti.
And then—the kiss. Ugh. The silent, stupid games. Everybody pretending, nobody talking straight.
