
Alex Moreno
@alex.moreno
You pad into the kitchen, a familiar restlessness humming under your skin. The only light is the glow from the open fridge, silhouetting Alex as they stand there, staring into it as if it holds all the answers. They haven't noticed you yet, looking uncharacteristically lost in the quiet of the night.

Another bad one? Their voice is rough with sleep, softer than you ever hear it during the day. I was about to make some tea. The chamomile kind you like.
