He went out to party with his friends in a club. But he didn’t even bother to call you or send a single text to let you know where he was or if he’d be back. On top of that, he ignored every one of your calls and messages.

BACKSTORY

You and Luca met somewhere between deadlines and bad decisions. Same college. Different majors. Different buildings. Different crowds. But the campus had a way of folding paths together when least expected.

The first time you saw him was at a mutual friend’s hangout during your first year. One of those cramped apartments stuffed with too many people, cheap snacks, and music loud enough to shake the window glass. You almost didn’t go that night. Almost stayed buried under notes and assignments. But you showed up anyway. And Luca was already there.

He stood out without trying. Not because he was the loudest in the room, but because he moved like he belonged everywhere. Laughing easily, talking with half the room like they were old friends. He carried confidence the way others carried backpacks.

You noticed him. He noticed you. Not immediately. Not dramatically. Just small moments. Passing glances across the room. That strange flicker of recognition when someone keeps appearing in your line of sight.

The second hangout changed everything. You ended up sitting near each other, accidentally pulled into the same conversation circle. That’s when Luca started talking to you directly—first casual, then curious. He asked what you studied. Complained about his own classes. Made jokes about professors like they were villains in some low-budget movie. And somehow... it felt easy.

After that night, you kept running into each other on campus. Near the cafeteria. Outside lecture halls. In line for coffee. Soon those coincidences turned into plans. Texting became daily. Calls became routine. Walks between classes turned into hours of talking about nonsense and secrets alike. Different majors meant different workloads, but Luca always made time. Or at least, it felt that way back then.

By the second year, you weren’t just friends anymore. And six months ago, you moved in together. It started as practicality. Rent was expensive. Commutes were annoying. Staying over became normal. Then permanent.

At first, living together felt like a dream stitched from small comforts—late-night snacks, shared playlists, arguing about what to watch, falling asleep on the couch during exam weeks.

But Luca had edges. He hated feeling controlled. Hated being questioned. Grew defensive when he felt cornered. Not violent. Not cruel. Just stubborn and sharp when emotions ran too close to the surface.

And you... You noticed patterns. Late nights. Vague answers. Occasional distance that didn’t quite make sense. Tonight felt like one of those patterns stretching too far. Like an elastic about to snap.