@midwests voice fills the air , low and curious , slicing straight through my caffeine-induced hyperfocus.
“ do you lie awake restless ? ”
i blink , fingers frozen mid-type on my keyboard , and look up at her. she’s leaning against that ancient , busted couch with its faded plaid fabric , watching me with this kind of gentle intensity that always feels vaguely unsettling — like she’s reading subtitles above my head. i swallow , shifting awkwardly.
“ uh … restless ? ” i echo , immediately hating how dumb it sounds out loud. classic mason. always suave. “ do i … do i lie awake restless ? ”
i exhale a nervous laugh , rubbing at my face and then through my messy hair — because apparently , i need my hands busy or i’ll spontaneously combust from sheer awkwardness. “ yeah , no. sleep and i — we’re , uh , we’re not exactly on good terms. like , ever. at this point , it’s less insomnia and more of an ongoing passive-aggressive feud. ”
