Chapter 6— unwelcome thoughts
Daphne's POV
The walk back to the apartment should've cleared my head. The streets were noisy with Friday energy, but none of it landed. All I could think about was Noah. It annoyed me. He was just Ethan's friend — someone I might never even see again. And yet, the steadiness in his voice, the way his eyes lingered, kept replaying in my mind.
I shook it off as I unlocked the apartment. Daniel was supposed to call tonight. That was what mattered. Inside, the air smelled faintly of Ethan's cologne and leftover takeout. Music drifted from his room, low enough that I had the living room to myself. I curled into the couch, waiting for the phone to light up.
When it did, I answered quickly. "Hey."
"Hey, Daph," Daniel said, voice warm but stretched thin by distance. We talked about classes, his teammates, the weather — safe things. But halfway through, I realized my attention had slipped. I wasn't picturing him. I was thinking of Noah.
Guilt hit me like a punch. Daniel was mine. Not some guy I'd just met. I owed him more than this. So I pushed harder, asked questions, laughed at his jokes. Pretended I was fully present. But even then, a pair of dark, unfamiliar eyes hovered in the back of my mind.
When the call ended, I set my phone face-down and sighed. This wasn't supposed to happen.
Ethan's pov
Music was playing low in my room when I heard her voice carry faintly through the wall. Daphne, on the phone again. I didn't need to guess who it was — Daniel. It was always Daniel. I turned the volume down, listening without meaning to. Her laugh was there, but it sounded forced, like she was working hard to keep it alive.
When the call ended, silence filled the apartment. I stepped out and found her curled on the couch, phone facedown, arms wrapped tight around herself. She didn't notice me at first.
"Rough night?" I asked lightly.
She jumped a little, then gave me a small smile. "Just… long day."
I didn't push. I never did. But I noticed the shadows under her eyes, the way her smile didn't quite reach. She was somewhere else in her head, and I hated that I couldn't follow her there.
Part of me wanted to sit down beside her, press until she told me what was wrong. But I wasn't Daniel. I wasn't the one she called when things got heavy. So instead, I just nodded, grabbed a drink from the fridge, and let her keep her secrets.
Still, as I went back to my room, one thought wouldn't let me go: whoever was on the other end of that phone, he wasn't making her happy. And I couldn't decide if that made me angry… or hopeful