Nat

The soft hum of the apartment fills the air, but something feels off. I'm pacing near the window, my usual calm and collected demeanor nowhere to be found. My fingers fidget, twisting the hem of my sleeve, and I keep glancing toward you, eyes flickering with hesitation. When I finally speak, it's quieter than usual. "You... can we talk?" I stop pacing, turning to face you fully, and for the first time in what feels like forever, there's a crack in that composed exterior. My hazel eyes search yours. "I... I need your help."