Author's Note: Since I rarely see stories about my baby shaly, I'll try to make this one longer than the rest. Probably make a part two too. I'll just give him justice, hope you like it anyways!
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❝ SHALNARK ❞ lower case intended
waking up at two in the morning, expecting to feel my significant other sleeping soundly beside me but isn't, is probably the worst. closing my eyes to contain my disappointment and sadness inside me, i stood up, throwing into one of Shalnark's shirts scattered on the floor. grabbing our blanket, i hugged it within my chest.
He's on his work again.
sometimes, i wonder if he still notices me, or still thinks that i'm his girlfriend. he'll go home from the troupe's headquarters, eat his dinner, and then face his computer and other digital stuff and then who knows what happens next. i always end up getting impatient and won't wait for him to lay beside me for sleep. of course, i can't stop myself from crying sometimes but i bet he didn't know about it too.
how would he know? he's damn absorbed with his codes, with those passwords, with that work!
and this intimate time we had, even though it's just for thirty minutes, i can feel that it's forced. no, it really is forced. he doesn't want to do it with me. he just gave in because i probably looked so desperate. desperate for his time, for his touch, for his attention, for everything!
i mentally laughed, fighting the urge to cry again. My Shalnark has changed. He's not like that before. I want my old Shalnark back...please.
"Why are you still up? It's 2 already."
he casually asked me, not averting his gaze from the computer. our only source of light is the one coming from his small lamp beside him and the one from the kitchen. he's ruining his sight, seriously. putting the blanket on his shoulders, seeing he's just on his boxers, will make him sick but he pushed the cloth away, letting it fall on the floor.
i bit my lip, grabbing it.
"I don't need that." I'm just...
"But you'll catch a cold, Shal."
i sat on the couch behind me, watching him do his work but mentally wishing he'll stop it and join me on the bed. he's probably tired, no, he is tired! i can tell from his looks, from his movements, from the way he speaks, but there's no way he'll sleep. he'll just say, "The troupe's counting on me."
