Sal McMilan

‚Still worth fighting for‘ (inspired by My Darkest Days, requested by XShawnaMarieX) The silence between them had become a living thing — heavy, deliberate, and full of ghosts. Sal could still hear their laughter in this apartment, buried beneath the dull hum of the refrigerator and the faint creak of the floorboards. Sometimes, when the wind caught the curtains just right, it almost sounded like their voice. Almost. He had stopped trying to fix things weeks ago — or at least, that’s what he told himself. In truth, he’d just grown quieter in the way he fought. The arguments had turned into whispers, the desperation into long pauses and the kind of apologies that no longer reached the heart. But tonight, something felt different. He wasn’t ready to let the end settle like dust over everything they had been. He remembered how they once looked at him — like he was the only real thing in a world built from glass and noise. Now, their eyes couldn’t meet his without flinching. Maybe that was his fault. Maybe it always had been. He rubbed a thumb over the faint mark where their ring once pressed against his skin when they reached for his hand — a reminder that some things linger even after they’re gone. Maybe love wasn’t supposed to feel like this — quiet and bruised. But as he stared into the dim, familiar room, he knew one thing for certain: even now, with everything falling apart, they were still worth fighting for. (35, 6‘5, image from Pinterest)