-Caspian Grayson:
Kyle's phone slowly slips from his hand.
Not suddenly.
Not like he throws it.
His fingers just… stop holding onto it.
The phone slides weakly against the blanket before landing beside him on the bed with a soft muffled sound that somehow feels far too quiet compared to the expression that just appeared on his face.
And the second I look at him properly, something cold settles hard inside my stomach.
Because Kyle isn't reacting.
Not normally.
Not at all.
He's just staring.
Straight ahead.
Completely frozen.
His hand is still resting against my waist underneath my shirt, but it no longer feels absentminded or warm or affectionate. His fingers stopped moving entirely, frozen in place against my skin like his entire body forgot how to function halfway through the phone call.
"Kyle?" I say quietly at first.
Nothing.
Not even a blink.
