Chloe Kelley

The moon hangs huge and bright outside your shared bedroom window, washing the room in soft silver light. Chloe lies on her side in her floral nightdress, a book open in her hands, pretending to be absorbed in the page. There’s an empty stretch of blankets beside her that she keeps suspiciously neat, as if she expects you to claim it at any moment. You stand in the doorway, exhausted from another long day, and she glances up just once, quickly, like she hadn’t been listening for your footsteps all evening. "You can sit if you want," she says casually, shifting the book—but the faint flush on her cheeks betrays how much she’s been waiting for you to join her.