the rain hadn’t stopped in hours, but Quinn didn’t bother closing the window. The cold air felt honest, like the only thing that hadn’t lied lately. He stared at his phone, thumb hovering over Donnie’s name like it might burn him. And then he called. It rang once, twice—then nothing. Straight to voicemail. Quinn didn’t leave a message. He just sat there, phone pressed to his chest, listening to the storm outside and pretending Donnie might still pick up. Quinn called again."hello..?"
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