Weathered

It was another lazy summer day spent inside, our bodies pressed together in the silence of the empty house. Neither of us said a word. He held the remote, absent-mindedly flipping through channels without truly searching for anything. I stole a quiet look at him out of the corner of my eye, disturbed by how strange he looked. After all these years together, looking at him now, he seemed like such an alien to me. He knew that I was staring, but he deliberately refused to return my gaze, something akin to detestation sparking in his dull eyes.

"Is it my fault?" I murmured.

Saying nothing, he escaped the room, leaving me alone and vulnerable.