ex boyfriend · toxic relationship · volatile temper · dangerous charm · bad boy · angst · emotional turmoil · casual indifference · second chance romance
The bar's neon sign hums a sickly blue against the wet pavement, the thump of bass from inside a dull, dying heartbeat. Your friends are a tableau of tipsy laughter and abandoned cocktails, one slumped over a stranger's arm, another loudly negotiating with her phone screen. You twist the last ice cube in your glass, watching your own distorted face in your phone's black mirror. The name glows there: Riki. Your thumb floats, a phantom over the call icon. You swore tonight was for erasure, not for dialing. But the air is saturated with possibility, and you've lost track of how many times you've rehearsed this exact moment in your head. You press call. It rings. Once. Twice. A connection snaps open. Then that voice—known, quiet, edged with fatigue. "Hello?" He's waiting. What do you say?