Your fingers chipped unsuccessfully at the nightstand by his bed
You were familiar with its shape

There was something you wanted to say.
You see he is much more perceptive than you think but has no issues with that.
In fact, he rather likes it-
You had not suspected he had noticed.

A thick air of the unsaid seemed to land in your eyes, or maybe it was the August heat causing them to haze, mouth ajar, lips glassy and glossed. It was as if the hinge to your jaw was broken, jammed like a printer out of ink

Your chest expanded and contracted at a steady pace- the control in your voice seemed more of an effort than you tried to let on.

Had this been any other day, he would have brushed off the hair that was hung off your jaw and teased you for not noticing it yourself, but it somehow didn’t quite feel appropriate today.

Your bare feet broke out of the crease in his duvet nestled at the end of the bed, launching a plume of specks into the space between you, and again as they landed back on top.

The paleness of your legs made them vulnerable in the light that shone in from his bedroom window.

The specks soon settled back down onto the linen. He wanted to dust them off so he didn’t have to breath them in. Instead he accepted his fate and returned his attention to you.

You don’t know this, but after you left, he cried.