The room was dark, save for the blue light of the digital clock on my nightstand showing half past ten.
Julian lay on his side, his back to me, his shoulders rising and falling in the shadow.
Usually, he slept on his back, his arm stretched out so I could rest my head near his shoulder.
I pulled the heavy quilt up to my chin, the flannel sheets feeling unusually cold tonight.
Julian let out a long, ragged sigh, the sound vibrating through the mattress before he shifted his weight further toward the edge of the bed.
I stared at the ceiling, listening to his unusually heavy breathing, wondering when he had started keeping his wrists hidden from me.
The coffee maker gave its final, sputtering hiss, leaving the kitchen in a quiet that felt too large for the house. I sat at the table with my laptop open, the screen glowing against the grey light of the kitchen window. Outside, a cold autumn rain tapped against the glass, matching the dull rhythm of my own thoughts.
