She knew she shouldn't call him.
She called.
He picked up after the second ring — that was the first warning. Nobody picks up after the second ring at two in the morning unless they're awake. Unless they're waiting. And someone who's waiting wants more than just talking.
She said hi. He said nothing, just breathed. Outside his window a car passed.
She should have hung up.
She didn't.
*I'm here,* he said finally. Two words. Like he knew she didn't need more.
And her — who spent the whole evening telling her friend she was over him, that she was done, that this was the last year of her life she'd waste on someone like him —
she typed her address.
© DarkMirax