Mia did not remember falling asleep.
Only that she had eventually stopped trying.
The hallway light had burned all night, a thin blade of gold cutting across the bedroom floor, and sometime near dawn she had realized she was watching that light instead of blinking.
Watching it the way people watch a hospital monitor.
To make sure it doesn't stop.
Beside her, Alex slept deeply, one arm folded beneath his pillow, his breathing slow and undisturbed.
Too undisturbed.
She studied his face in the half-light.
There was no tension left in it. No shadow of the fear that had hollowed him out these past weeks.
If anything, he looked calmer than she had seen him in months.
That frightened her more than anything else.
Because nothing about yesterday had earned calm.
When morning finally arrived, gray and quiet, Mia slipped from the bed without waking him.
The apartment felt different in daylight.
Not safer.
Just exposed.
She made coffee she did not want and stood by the kitchen window long enough for the mug to cool untouched in her hands.
Her thoughts circled the same question again and again.
'What happens now?'
Behind her, the bedroom door opened softly.
She turned.
Alex walked into the kitchen barefoot, hair still sleep-tossed, his expression relaxed in a way that made her chest tighten.
''Morning,'' he said.
His voice was steady.
Normal.
She searched his face for some sign he carried the same memory she did.
''Did you sleep?'' she asked.
''Like a rock.''
He reached for a mug.
Poured coffee.
The simple domestic motion looked almost surreal after what they had witnessed.
Mia watched the dark liquid ripple inside the cup.
''Alex…''
Something in her tone made him glance up.
''What?''
She hesitated.
There is a moment before difficult conversations where the world seems to hold its breath.
She stepped into it anyway.
''We need to talk about last night.''
A faint shift moved through his posture, not visible unless you knew him, a tightening somewhere behind the shoulders.
He took a sip before answering.
''Okay.''
She pulled out a chair but didn't sit. Sitting felt too relaxed for what pressed against her ribs.
''You scared me,'' she said.
The words landed gently, but he still flinched.
''I scared you?''
''You were standing in the hallway. Just… staring into the dark. When I called your name it took you several seconds to answer.''
He frowned slightly.
''I don't remember that.''
''I know.''
Silence stretched.
He set the mug down.
Carefully.
''People sleepwalk,'' he said. ''It doesn't mean anything.''
The defensiveness was subtle.
But it was there.
Mia folded her arms, then forced herself to lower them again.
Closed posture wouldn't help.
''Alex, listen to me,'' she said softly. ''Something is affecting you. Maybe it's trauma. Maybe it's whatever we saw. But you aren't… entirely yourself right now.''
The words were chosen with care.
Too much care.
He let out a short breath that almost resembled a laugh.
''I'm sitting here drinking coffee.''
''That's not what I mean.''
''Then what do you mean?''
His voice sharpened slightly.
Not loud.
Not angry.
But edged.
She took a step closer.
''You feel different,'' she said. ''Calmer, yes, but in a way that doesn't match what we experienced.''
He looked away.
Toward the window.
The morning light spilled across the floor, stopping just short of his feet.
''Maybe I'm just handling it better than you think,'' he said.
The moment the words left him, Mia recoiled as if struck.
Not physically.
Emotionally.
He saw it happen.
Regret flickered across his face.
But something else sat beneath it now.
Irritation.
A pressure building behind his ribs that he could not quite name.
''That came out wrong,'' he added quickly.
But the air had already shifted.
Mia inhaled slowly.
''I watched the world stop, Alex,'' she said. ''I couldn't move. I couldn't breathe. And then I watched you stand in the dark like you were listening to something I couldn't hear.''
The memory trembled in her voice despite her effort to steady it.
He rubbed a hand across the back of his neck.
''What do you want me to say? That I'm falling apart? I'm not.''
The kitchen light flickered.
Once.
Both of them noticed, yet neither commented.
Mia kept her gaze on him.
''I want you to admit this is bigger than stress.''
Something tightened visibly in his jaw.
''I already admitted that.''
''No,'' she said quietly. ''You acknowledged it. That's not the same thing.''
The pressure inside him swelled.
He could feel it now, a low hum beneath his skin, like distant electrical current.
''So what are you asking?'' he said. ''That I panic? That I stop functioning?''
''I'm asking you not to pretend you're fine.''
''I am fine.''
The word hit the air harder than intended.
The overhead bulb flickered again.
Longer this time.
Mia glanced upward.
When her eyes returned to him, something new had entered them.
Alertness.
''Alex…''
He didn't notice the light.
All his attention had collapsed inward, toward the agitation gathering in his chest.
''You're acting like I'm fragile,'' he continued. ''Like I'm about to snap.''
''I'm acting like someone who loves you,'' she said, her voice tightening now.
A thin crack split through the silence.
They both froze.
The mug in Alex's hand trembled.
A hairline fracture crept slowly down the ceramic.
He stared at it.
''Did you-'' Mia began.
The mug gave a soft, brittle pop.
Coffee leaked through the crack, dark liquid threading across his fingers.
He dropped it instinctively.
It shattered against the tile.
Neither moved.
Alex looked down at the pieces.
Then at his hands.
''Okay…'' Mia whispered.
Fear was entering her voice now.
Real fear.
''That was already cracked,'' Alex said quickly.
Too quickly.
The lie felt thin even to him.
Mia took a slow step backward.
Not dramatic.
Just distance.
''Alex,'' she said carefully, ''look at me.''
He did.
''Take a breath.''
He tried.
The humming inside him deepened.
''I need you to calm down.''
''I am calm.''
The kitchen windows creaked.
A sharp ticking sound ran through the glass.
Mia's breath caught.
''Alex.''
A spiderweb fracture shot across the nearest pane with a dry snapping noise.
She flinched violently.
''Stop.''
The word burst from her before she could shape it.
''I'm not doing anything!''
But even as he said it, the pressure surged.
Something inside him leaned outward.
The second mug exploded off the counter.
Porcelain detonated into white fragments.
Mia stumbled back, a cry tearing from her throat.
''ALEX!''
The remaining window cracked with a sound like gunfire.
For one suspended second, the apartment seemed to inhale.
Then every pane shattered inward.
Glass cascaded across the floor in a roaring wave.
Silence followed.
Alex stood frozen.
The humming vanished instantly.
Mia stared at him from across the wreckage, her face drained of color, her chest rising in shallow, panicked breaths.
She looked smaller somehow.
Not physically. But emotionally.
''You did that,'' she whispered.
He shook his head.
''I didn't mean-''
''You did that.''
Her voice trembled violently now.
She took another step back.
Then another.
Each one more careful than the previous one.
As if retreating from a wild animal.
''Mia…''
He moved toward her.
She recoiled so fast it felt like a slap.
''Don't... come near me.''
The sentence shattered something inside him far more cleanly than the windows had.
They stood there, separated by glittering debris.
Finally she spoke again, her voice hoarse.
''I don't know how to help you anymore.''
The sentence landed quietly. But its weight was enormous.
''I need… space,'' she said.
Not forever.
Not goodbye.
Just distance.
For the first time, Alex understood what it meant to be feared by someone who loved you.
She grabbed her coat with shaking hands.
At the door she paused.
Looked back once.
Tears blurred her vision.
''I love you,'' she said.
And then she left.
The apartment swallowed the sound of the closing door.
Alex stood alone in the wreckage.
The morning light spilled through the broken windows, cold and indifferent.
Slowly, he looked down at his hands.
They were steady again.
As if nothing had happened.
That night the apartment felt cavernous.
Too large for one person.
He did not clean the glass.
Did not call anyone.
Did not turn the lights fully on.
Darkness gathered naturally around him, and for the first time…
He did not resist it.
Sleep took him quickly.
Deep.
Heavy.
Sometime after midnight, he woke without knowing why.
The room was darker than it should have been.
The hallway light was off.
He was certain Mia had left it on.
Alex sat up slowly.
The silence felt dense, but strangely comfortable.
Then he noticed it.
The shadows in the corner were not still.
They were leaning toward the bed.
Not moving. Not coming closer, just angled, as if stretching towards him.
The longer he looked at them, the calmer he felt.
It felt warm...And familiar...
He lay back down.
And in the darkness, something shifted closer.
It didn't touch him... But it was closer than ever before.