Vanilla coke Zeke x Reader

Call from the void

The screen lit up in Zeke's trembling hand. He hadn't expected her to actually call. The name hit him like a wave:

"Bunny 🩷"

The photo almost knocked the breath from his lungs — her in his oversized baseball tee, tongue out playfully as he kissed her cheek, both of them sun-dazed and glowing like they didn't know how fragile that moment really was.

He smiled faintly. "Hi, Bunny."

There was a long exhale from the other end. "Hi, Zeke."

Her voice. Softer than he deserved. Steady, but dulled at the edges. Like someone who'd cried herself quiet.

Zeke swallowed. "You know... I still have the picture from our second date? The one where you called me from the bathroom just to say you missed me?"

He laughed under his breath. "You were tipsy, in that stupid glitter top, and your voice was all raspy. You said, 'Don't tell anyone but I think I'm obsessed with you, Yeager.'"

There was a pause.

"Zeke," Y/N said gently, "What do you want?"

He didn't answer right away. Just took a long breath, cigarette forgotten between his fingers, the glow at the tip flickering low.

"I want to apologize," he said finally. "For what I said today. I was drunk, and bitter, and scared, and it came out like poison."

Y/N exhaled slowly. "I'm sorry too," she said, voice quiet. "I said some really shitty things."

There was silence between them. The kind that says everything neither of them could.

"Funny, huh?" Zeke murmured. "How love can pull two people together so hard... and still turn them into strangers. Or worse — enemies."

"I don't hate you," Y/N whispered.

"I know. But I made you feel like you should."

She didn't deny it.

"I keep thinking about the version of us that used to just laugh at everything," she said softly. "The one that danced in the kitchen and stayed up too late watching shitty horror movies."

"I think about them too," Zeke said. "A lot."

"And it hurts," she admitted. "Because I didn't stop loving you, even when I wanted to."

Zeke's breath hitched. "I know."

There was a small, broken sound from her side. Then, silence. And then:

"Zeke... I need space," she said finally, voice barely above a whisper. "It's too much for me right now. All of this."

He closed his eyes, resting his forehead against the window. The cold glass grounded him more than anything else had in days.

"Okay," he said quietly. "I understand."

"Please don't text me for a while."

"Can I call you again someday?"

"Maybe," she said. "But not soon."

He nodded, even though she couldn't see it. "Alright. I'll wait."

"Don't wait for me, Zeke," she whispered.

"I'll still be here anyway."

A silence so heavy it almost rang in his ears.

"Goodnight, Bunny."

"Goodnight, Zeke."

She hung up first.

And just like that, he was alone again. Only now, the silence didn't echo with anger.