Aiden's Point of View
The morning light seeps through the c***k in the blinds, painting pale golden stripes across the ceiling. I blink against it, disoriented for a moment, caught between sleep and the heavy, lingering haze that’s clung to me since I got back last night.
My apartment is quiet. Too quiet. The kind of quiet that presses against your ears, makes your heart beat just a little louder in your chest. I lay there for a while, staring at the ceiling, listening to the silence. Everything looks the same, the worn dresser in the corner, the boots kicked haphazardly by the door, the photo of me and Abby framed on the nightstand, but it all feels different. Off. Like I’ve stepped back into a version of my life that doesn’t quite fit anymore.
I push the covers off and sit up, muscles
