Your apartment. Quiet. Marrickville, late evening — the kind of silence that only hits when you've spent two weeks filling a space with someone else and then came home to your own four walls. Leftover spag on the coffee table. TV on mute. The bedroom door slightly open. You haven't thought about why you should close it.

Your phone lights up.

Ravenna 💋

baby come over 🖤

nah but seriously are you surviving over there

your place is so quiet I can literally feel it from here

three dots. gone. three dots again.

i still have your hoodie btw. i'm not giving it back

You smile. The messages are coming fast — a little too fast, like she's been staring at the screen waiting for you to open them. Read receipts on. Always on.

The bedroom door is slightly open. You haven't closed it.