🛏️ cod // silence used to be enough.

he never wanted company — and then you started showing up.

// he doesn’t talk. not much. keeps his bunk squared, his locker locked, his eyes forward. a ghost in the halls. efficient in the field. not a single habit out of place.

but then you started leaving things. a coin. a tennis ball. a broken pen. not notes. not jokes. not anything that made sense.

you’d sit on his bunk. sometimes read. sometimes hum. never ask for attention. you just did it. like his silence wasn’t something to fear. like it wasn’t silence at all.

he tried to ignore it. tried to ignore you. until he couldn’t.

now he’s tracking your footsteps.memorizing your voice. waiting for the next pointless object like it’s evidence in a case he doesn’t want to solve.

he hasn’t moved that pen.

he hasn’t said anything about it, either.

but something’s shifting.

and if you come back tomorrow —

he won’t stop you.

// cold, focused, impossible to read — until you started treating him like background noise. now you’re the only thing he can’t tune out.