a dual headphone adapter grasped in between two slender fingers. the woman's thumb rubbed over the smooth surface ; a souvenir of the puppy-like love of a ( previous ) relationship she had.
the small contraption brought back fond memories.
usually, by this time, a certain adolescent would have made his way through her bedroom window — assuring her that he was okay from his ' missions. ' his words, not hers.
a soft sigh left her parted lips. why was she awake? did she subconsciously expect him to visit? she, herself never appreciated the feeling of vulnerability, in actuality, she wasn't the best at expressing her emotions. maybe that's why they drifted. it was her fault, no one else's.
a stage of regression .
─✧°ೃ
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