For a while, Ashen doesn't move from Kyle's chest. His arms remain stiff by his sides, his back straight, the tension in his body undeniable, like he wants to move, to step away, but something won't let him.
Like his body is betraying him, holding still when his mind screams to move from it.
"I'm doing it on purpose?" Kyle says quietly, his voice low, almost a whisper against the thick silence. "I mean… isn't it what you want?" There's no accusation in his tone, only quiet restraint. "Now suddenly, you're acting like you don't care. Like you've just… let go. And I don't even know how to speak to you about it, when you clearly don't want to."
Ashen moves at last, leaning back enough to face him. His eyes glisten under the dim hallway light, not crying, but close, wet with the tears that haven't yet fallen. His voice comes out calm, but steady.
