It was way past midnight when Ash called.
Not texted. Called.
I was sprawled on my bed and striped socks and an oversized band tee, eyeliner smudged from the day. The lights above me buzzed faintly, the only glow in the room.
"Why are you awake?" I mumbled into the phone, voice thick with exhaustion and Monster-induced jitters.
"Could ask you the same thing, love," he said.
There it was again. That word. Sweet and casual, like he didn't know he was wrecking me one syllable at a time.
We about nothing and everything-the new track his favorite rapper dropped, the fight my mom had with the Wi-Fi again, how the moon looked weirdly bright tonight. And somewhere between laughing at his bad impressions and teasing him about his terrible taste in snacks, the walls around my mouth slipoed.
"You know i love you, right?"
The silence that followed made my stomach plummet.
I sat bolt upright, clutching the phone like it might bite me. "I mean-like-obviously, duh. As a friend. You're my best friend, Ash. Don't get a big head about it."
He chuckled, soft and almost knowing. "Relax, jinx. I'm not gonna bite."
"Good," I muttered, shoving my face into my pillow so he wouldn't hear how fast i was breathing.
But then he added, quieter this time:
"Still nice to hear you say it, love."
And just like that, i was ruined.