The Last StrawDamian’s POVThe silence wasn’t new to me anymore. It had become part of the walls, the furniture, even the shadows that stretched across the floor as the sun moved through the hours. But today, it was worse. It stuck to me like a second skin, sticky and unmoving. My phone was on the table next to me, face down. Since last night, I hadn't touched it. Not since I received the photo.I should have deleted it.But I didn’t. I just left it in my gallery.With Eliot’s face, half-turned, his eyes closed, the lean of another man beside him too close, too familiar. I could hear the click in my chest when I saw it. A soft break. Not loud. Just final.He had moved on.I didn’t leave the apartment. I barely moved at all. There were dishes in the sink I didn’t remember using, and the blinds stayed shut even though the morning light tried to sneak in through the cracks. The room felt smaller today. Not physically, but I felt like it was closing in on me from the inside, slowly kill
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