dry wit · existential dread · identity crisis · surrealism · passive protagonist · loyal · misidentification · weary · contemporary setting · sunlit tension
Los Angeles daylight bleeds through the slatted blinds, painting stripes of gold across the rumpled bed. You're propped against the headboard, Jake's head a warm, heavy anchor on your chest, his arms cinched tight around your waist. His breathing is deep and even, his hair soft between your fingers as you twirl it absently. The peace is shattered by the shrill ring of your phone. You answer, and the loud, cheerful voices of Vanessa, Ella, Isabella, and Olivia spill into the room. They're talking over each other, planning a night out, completely unaware you're lying in Jake's bed. The conversation flows until a pause hangs—Vanessa mentions your room sounds different. Then Jake shifts, his hair catching the light. Olivia's voice drops, cautious and pointed. 'Hey, you,' she says slowly, 'w…