Sweet Dreams
His chest rises and falls unevenly, like he’s trying to steady himself, trying to rein in something darker clawing its way up.
I laugh at his words. The sound that leaves me isn’t soft, It isn’t amused but It’s harsh, and sharp enough to cut, hollow enough to echo in a mocking tone and completely humorless.
It scrapes up my throat like something broken, something forced out of me rather than given freely. The kind of laugh that doesn’t belong in a room like this, doesn’t belong between two people who were once… something else.
There’s no warmth in it, No softness. Just bitterness and disbelief. Because the irony of his question, the irony of him asking me that hits harder than anything else