Ashen doesn't speak. His lips part, but the words don't come, like the air itself has frozen inside his throat. He stands motionless, his hands slightly shaking at his sides, and the silence between them thickens into something suffocating.
Kyle walks over, his steps slow, deliberate, and heavy, every movement charged with weight.
His eyes never leave Ashen, sharp and unreadable, like he's waiting for an answer that refuses to come.
Without a word, he bends down and picks the phone up from where it fell. The screen is cracked, a web of damage splitting across the glass, but he doesn't flinch at that.
His attention is on the messages displayed across the screen. His thumb scrolls slowly, carefully, as his gaze traces every word.
His expression changes.
First, disbelief flashes across his face. His brows pull together in confusion, his mouth parts slightly as though caught mid-breath, and his body goes still.
