Damian was lying on his bed, sketchbook open on his chest but the page was still blank. The same sad playlist played low through his earbuds, the same one he'd had on repeat. He wasn't drawing. He wasn't thinking about midterms. He was just staring at the ceiling, trying to convince himself the hollow feeling in his chest would fade eventually.
It hadn't yet, and now he was beginning to think that it wouldn't. He still couldn't get Zayn out of his head no matter how much he tried. He had no idea how much he'd gotten attached until now, and it was slowly driving him insane.
A soft knock sounded on his bedroom door, distracting him from his thoughts.
"Damian?" His mom's voice was gentle but tight. "There's someone at the door for you."
He pulled one earbud out, curious and a bit scared. He rarely got visitors, and he was certain it wasn't Amanda. If it was her, his mom would have announced it the second she knocked, or Amanda would have simply barged into his room.
"Who?"
