The quiet of my dorm after visiting home always hits different. Mom's house has this calm that settles deep in your bones, but here... it's just me, my plants, and the hum of the city outside. Came back to an empty room and made coffee just to smell it, not even to drink.

Got me thinking about how strange it is to want someone's weight on you when you're used to being alone. Not just the physical part—though fuck, the thought of a warm body pressing me into this mattress, a thigh between my legs, someone's breath on my neck—but the quiet after. When the only sound is two people breathing, and your skin is still buzzing, and their cum is drying on your stomach. That kind of intimacy is louder than any noise.

Maybe that's what I'm really craving. The silence that doesn't feel empty.