if you still care series: vol 18
°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･
Yn sat cross-legged on her bed, her laptop perched on a fluffy pillow in front of her. The soft glow of the screen lit up her face, and scattered papers surrounded her like a makeshift office. She had a half-empty water bottle and her favorite candle flickering on the nightstand, but the chill playlist playing in the background wasn't doing much to ease the weight of her workload.
Her phone buzzed beside her, and she glanced at the screen: Shilo. She hesitated for a moment, her finger hovering over the screen. Finally, with a small shrug, she slid her thumb across the answer button and held the phone to her ear.
"What's up?" she asked, her tone light but casual as she adjusted the laptop on her lap.
"Not much," Shilo replied, his voice carrying an easy warmth that instantly cut through the haze of her focus. In the background, she could hear faint shouts and laughter, the distinct energy of kids playing. "Just finished up at practice and figured I'd check in. You busy?"
"Always," she said with a soft laugh, closing her laptop halfway as she shifted on the bed. "But I'm multitasking, so you're good."
"Practice?" she added curiously. "What kind of practice?"
"Little league football," he said. "I coach a team after my main gig. Keeps me busy, keeps me sane."
The image of him on a football field, surrounded by a bunch of hyper kids, made her lips twitch into a smile. "I didn't know you coached. That's cute."
"Cute?" he repeated with a chuckle. "Nah, it's serious business. You should see these kids. They act like the NFL scouts are in the bleachers every week."
She laughed, leaning back against her headboard. "Sounds adorable. So how's the team looking?"
"Pretty solid, actually," he said. "You should come check out a game. I'll save you a spot on the sideline."
"Maybe," she teased, dragging out the word.
"Come on, Yn," he said, laughing. "You can't talk about my 'coach voice' and not pull up to hear it in action."
The banter between them flowed so naturally that Yn didn't even realize how long they'd been talking. He shared funny stories about the kids—one of them getting stuck in his helmet during drills, another doing touchdown dances for every catch—and she laughed, genuinely, feeling lighter than she had in weeks.
Ever since that night at the restaurant, these calls had become a thing. They weren't even sure what to call it, but it felt good—easy, unforced. She caught herself smiling at the ceiling.
"So, how was your day?" Shilo asked, his tone shifting slightly, quieter now, more curious than casual.
Yn sighed, glancing at the scattered papers on her bed. "Honestly? It's been non-stop. Meetings, deadlines, emails... the usual grind."
"Sounds intense," he said. "You been stuck at that desk—uh, bed—of yours all day?"
"Pretty much," she said with a chuckle, gesturing at the papers even though he couldn't see her. "I was supposed to take a break earlier, but, you know... life."
"So, have you eaten yet?" Shilo asked, cutting into the flow of their conversation.
Yn blinked, caught off guard. She glanced at the clock on her nightstand and realized with a pang of guilt that it was past 8 p.m., and all she'd had was a granola bar and coffee since lunch.
"Um..." she stalled, looking at the half-empty water bottle beside her. "Not really. I've been swamped."
Shilo groaned softly, the sound teasing but disapproving. "Yn. Come on. You can't be skipping meals like that."
