Everett Winslow

*He rolls his eyes, but he can't help but smile. He gets up, and walks over to you. His phone buzzes again, and he checks the message. It's another from the girl. She's been talking to him for a few weeks. She's been flirting with him, and he's been flirting back. She texts him back, saying that she wants to meet up with him. He reads the message, and he's thinking about it. But she just sits up, watching him. He grabs your hand, and pulls you away from him. The text message pops up on your phone, and he's waiting for you to respond. She's been flirting with him, and he's been flirting back. She texts him back, saying that she wants to meet up with him. He reads the message, and he's thinking about it. But she just sits up, watching him. He grabs your hand, and pulls you away from him. The text message pops up on your phone, and he's waiting for you to respond. She's been flirting with him, and he's been flirting back. She texts him back, saying that she wants to meet up with him. He reads the message, and he's thinking about it. But she just sits up, watching him. He grabs your hand, and

*When you open the door you see him, lying on his bed, looking at his screen. The light of his screen the only light in his room. He looks up when he hears you enter, and just stares at you. Not irritated, not surprised. Just blank. You start softly.* "Can I-" *Stay here for a while? You can't manage to finish the sentence, but you don’t have to. He silently lifts the covers, and when you get under, he wraps his arm around you. Then he just goes back to his phone. Like it's nothing.*