It was nearly midnight again.
Maya lay on her side, phone in hand, the screen glowing against the pillow. The chat with Leo sat open—untouched since last night.
No new messages.
No typing dots.
No "online."
Her thumb hovered over his name like it could summon him.
Still nothing.
"You there?"
She typed it. Deleted it. Typed again.
"Don't keep me waiting, Leo."
Deleted. Again.
It wasn't like her to be this… restless.
But the silence gnawed at her pride.
He'd come back once. After two days of vanishing, acting like it was nothing. And now what? Another disappearing act?
She sat up, wrapping the robe tighter around her. The fan spun lazily in the corner, stirring the air but not her mood.
He's probably just asleep.
Or busy.
Or talking to someone else.
That last thought landed like a stone in her stomach.
Jealousy crept in, quiet and unwelcome. It wasn't possessiveness, not exactly. They weren't anything official. Hell, they hadn't even met. But the connection was real—at least for her.
And now he was gone again.
She opened his profile, staring at the little green dot that used to glow beside his name.
Nothing.
She flipped over to her photo gallery. Scrolled past selfies, quiet nights, the screenshot of his tattoo from last night.
That serpent. Wrapped tight. Coiled like control.
It hadn't told her anything, really—but it had meant something. He knew how to hook her curiosity. He knew how to make her wait.
And now he was doing it again.
Leo, meanwhile, sat in the back of his apartment, screen dimmed, notifications turned off.
Her message had popped up hours ago.
He'd seen it.
He just didn't open it.
Not yet.
He let his phone rest on the desk as he stretched, bare chest rising and falling slowly. He could feel the tension creeping in—tight in his shoulders, tighter in his thoughts.
Why was it so easy to crave her when she was far away… but so hard to respond when she reached for him?
He liked the control. The rhythm of their connection. But right now, he wasn't sure if he wanted to play or pull away.
Still, he could imagine her perfectly: curled up, staring at the screen, waiting.
And the thought of her being just slightly frustrated?
That turned him on more than it should've.
He leaned forward, cracked his knuckles, and tapped the screen.
Still unread.
He smirked to himself.
Not yet. Let her feel it a little longer.
Back on Maya's bed, the silence had gone from quiet to loud. Her screen was dim, but her mind wasn't.
What if he was losing interest?
What if last night had just been a moment—for him—and she was clinging to a spark that wasn't mutual?
She opened their chat again.
Maya: "You ghosting me already?"
She stared at it.
Did she want to send it?
She tossed the phone aside instead, letting it hit the mattress with a soft thud. She didn't want to look desperate. Or worse—attached.
But the truth curled in her chest like that same serpent on his wrist.
He had her attention.
And he knew it.
Leo finally picked up the phone around 2:13 AM.
He opened the chat.
He didn't reply.
He just read it.
Back in her room, Maya's phone buzzed once.
Read.
No reply.
Her lips parted slightly, a mix of heat and fury rushing to her cheeks.
So he was there. Watching. Choosing not to answer.
She laughed—bitter, quiet.
"Cute."
She whispered it aloud.
"You want me waiting? You think I'll come crawling?"
She stood, letting the robe slide off her shoulders onto the floor.
Two could play this game.
Maya: "You want silence? Fine. Let's see who can hold out longer."
She turned off her phone.
The room fell into real darkness—no buzz, no blue light, no green dot to haunt her.
Just her breath, steady. Controlled.
If he wanted a woman who begged for his attention, he had the wrong one.