We both just sit there on the couch, the silence thick like fog between us. He doesn't move. Doesn't speak. Just sits with his hands in his lap, eyes glued to the floor. His antennae don't even twitch.
The guilt's still written all over his face. That lost, quiet look he wears when he doesn't know how to fix something. And maybe it's my turn to fix it now.
I bite my lip, fingers fidgeting in my lap. Ugh. Why is it always me who has to start?
"...Jiang," I finally say, my voice softer than before. "I'm sorry about earlier. Maybe I… overreacted."
He blinks slowly, then lifts his eyes just enough to meet mine. His brows tug together slightly, like he wasn't expecting that. Like he doesn't know what to do with forgiveness.
I sigh and lean back, pressing my fingers to my temples. "I was just… really scared, okay? You disappeared. Your phone was off. And you're not exactly from around here—anything could've happened."
Still no words from him. But his antennae droop a little more.
