#kamili.thread

“you ever think about me?” regret trickles in the second it’s out of her mouth. relief, too, to have finally asked. “do you ever wonder what i’m doing, or if i’m thinking about you?” 

“remember this song? i haven’t been able to listen to it the whole way through in months.” a slow sway, a sad pull to her eyes. “reminds me of you.” 

"you haven't changed at all, have you?" she folds the damp tissue between her fingers, over and over until it starts to wither. "you always knew just what to say."

look, the money’s long been spent and it’s officially too late to get a refund. and, AND! it’s not like she hadn’t tried her damnedest to get somebody else to use the other ticket. this is just how life’s panned out; hitting the merch stand before her favorite musician’s show starts, decked in a t-shirt sporting their face and a wristband that promises her and her ex access to the floor seats. speaking of … as she finds them again through the sea of other concertgoers, kamili offers a strained smile, her merch bag swinging like a weapon from her fisted hand. after all this time, at least they were decent enough to not let the ticket go to waste. “look. i got you a hat,” she quips, “unless you hate it. then i got myself two hats.”