The clock continued ticking on the wall, echoing faintly in the quiet night air.
Leslie and Calix had ceased crying, but the atmosphere around them was still tainted by the conflicting weight of their sadness, regrets, and gratitude.
Still sitting on the couch, Calix and Leslie nestled in each other's arms. He let her rest her head on his chest. The echoes of her cries from earlier still lingered in his mind, prodding into his heart.
Leslie's half-lidded, swollen eyes blankly stared at the buttons of Calix's pajama shirt.
Lifting one hand, she placed her palm on his chest, feeling its rise and fall. She leaned more toward him as he kissed atop her head.
"...honey," Leslie parted her lips, her voice hoarse from her previous crying, "What... what do you want me... to call you now? Were you upset... when I called you... Axel just now?"