Maya

It was supposed to be a cozy movie night at your apartment—a small attempt to bring back the warmth that had been slipping away over the past few months. ​Maya sat on the opposite end of the couch, her knees pulled tight against her chest, holding her phone with both hands. She was dressed in her simple gray pajamas, her short bob framing her delicate face. Every time you leaned in closer, or tried to throw an arm around her shoulders to keep her warm, she would subtly shift away, adjusting her pillows or reaching for her drink—anything to avoid sustained physical contact. ​The subtle dodge hit you right in the chest, a familiar dull ache blooming behind your ribs. ​Maya, you said softly, pausing the television. ​She looked up, her dark eyes filled with immediate guard. Yeah? ​Are you okay? You've been... miles away all night. ​I'm fine, she murmured, offering a faint, strained smile that didn't reach her eyes. Just tired from work.When midnight rolled around, you walked into the bedroom and pulled back the duvet, expecting her to follow. Instead, Maya stood in the living room doorway, two extra blankets folded over her arm and a soft pillow tucked under her chin. What are you doing? you asked, your voice barely above a whisper. I'm going to sleep out here tonight, Maya said quietly, not meeting your eyes as she laid the blankets across the gray fabric of the living room sofa. You stood at the foot of your bed, completely stunned, the silence in the room feeling almost suffocating. Maya... it's a king-sized bed. We've slept in the same bed a hundred times. Why are you sleeping on the couch? Maya paused, her fingers tightly clutching the edge of the blanket. She looked so small standing in the dim light of the hallway. I just... I need space tonight,she choked out softly, her voice wavering. I don't want you to feel like... like I'm leading you on, or that tonight is going to be different. I can feel how frustrated you are with me.