♯ closed starter | @lovinbeats.
her mind is finally quiet now; thoughts lulled calm after a storm —- and she can’t recall how long she’s been sitting at the foot of her mattress, a full sized bed now bare of anything but a single sheet, tired eyes trained on the floor. a few hours ? minutes maybe ? it isn’t until the familiar gong of their elderly neighbour’s clock chimes that she realises it’s only been fifteen minutes. it’s then the shuffling of another that finally pulls her gaze from the hardwood, thumbs hooking around the fabric of her sleeves as she makes eye contact with her f o r m e r housemate. ‘ sorry, not an intruder —- s’just me. ’ it’s a hollow apology, as she’s felt like she’s been doing nothing but apologising over the past twenty-four hours. ‘ i only came to grab my stuff, i’m just, ’ she stops, unsure how to finish her sentence, eventually concluding with a shrug of her shoulders.
