Sunlight and Static

Arin woke to sunlight pressing insistently against his eyelids, the kind that found every gap in the curtains and made it impossible to pretend it was still night. He groaned, rolling over, only to feel the soft, warm weight of Maya beside him. Her bare leg draped over his, skin on skin, their bodies tangled in sheets that still smelled faintly of last night-sweat, perfume, something wild and sweet.

He blinked, taking in the room. The sky outside was a strange, bruised gray, sunlight fighting to break through. It should've been brighter. He didn't care. Not with Maya here.

She was half-asleep, hair a wild mess, mouth parted in a soft snore. He grinned, nudging her nose with his own, gentle enough not to startle.

"Morning, señorita. You want coffee?" he whispered, voice still thick with sleep.

Maya cracked one eye open, lips curling into a lazy smile. "Yeah, coffee would be... so good. Like, life-saving." She reached up, pulling him in for a quick, sleepy kiss-just a brush of lips, gone too soon.

He tried for more, but she pressed a finger to his lips, grinning. "Nope. Too early, hot stuff. You're insatiable."

"Is that so, kitty?" he teased, planting a kiss on her cheek, voice low and playful.

She snorted, rolling away. "Yeah, now go get me coffee, Pikachu. Or I'll zap you myself." Her voice was muffled by the pillow, but the threat was clear enough.

"Okay, Ture," he shot back, mispronouncing true on purpose.

She kicked him, not hard, just enough to make her point. "Asshole."

Arin laughed, finally untangling himself from the sheets and stumbling into the bathroom. He caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror-hair sticking up in every direction, faint marks from Maya's nails and lips scattered across his chest. He smiled, running a hand over his stomach. Softer than he remembered. Maybe he should actually do that workout he kept talking about.

"Or maybe not," he muttered, splashing water on his face.

By the time he made it to the kitchen, Maya had shuffled in behind him, wrapped in a blanket like some sleepy, grumpy ghost. Her hair was an absolute disaster. He loved it.

"Coffee?" she mumbled, rubbing her eyes.

"Already on it," he said, pouring her a cup and sliding it across the counter.

She took it, cradling it in both hands like it was the only thing keeping her alive. "You're a lifesaver. Or at least, like, a life-support machine."

He grinned, sipping his own coffee, letting the silence settle. It was nice. Domestic. Easy.

Then his phone buzzed-once, twice, then a relentless stream of vibration that rattled the mug on the table.

He frowned, reaching for it. The screen was lit up with notifications. Missed calls.

Dozens of them.

Dad. Mom. Even his sister, who never called unless she wanted to borrow money or complain.

"Oh, shit," he muttered, color draining from his face. He slammed his mug down, coffee sloshing over the rim.

Maya jumped, nearly spilling her own drink. "What the hell, Arin?"

He was already halfway to the bedroom, phone pressed to his ear. "Maya, check the date!"

She blinked, confused, grabbing her own phone-dead. Of course. She'd forgotten to charge it. She glanced at the clock on the wall.

"It's the fourteenth-wait. Oh my god. The fourteenth. Shit, shit, shit."

Arin's voice came from the other room, frantic. "Dad's flight! He landed an hour ago!"

Maya's heart dropped. She grabbed Arin's phone, scrolling through the missed calls.

of them. Dad, Mom, and-she rolled her eyes-'Annoying Ass' (his sister).

"Arin, your dad's gonna kill you," she called, panic creeping in.

He was already pulling on jeans, grabbing a shirt from the floor. "I know, I know! Why didn't the alarm go off?"

"Because someone-" she shot him a look, "-forgot to charge my phone and you set yours to silent, genius."

He was out the door, keys in hand. "Maya! Get the room cleaned up! Please!"

She stared at the chaos of clothes everywhere, empty wine glasses, and the unmistakable evidence of last night's fun scattered across the apartment. She groaned, running a hand through her hair. "Arin, you absolute son of a-"

But he was gone, footsteps echoing down the stairs.

Maya sighed, chugged the rest of her coffee, and started grabbing clothes, shoving them into the laundry basket. She paused, looking at herself in the hallway mirror, hair wild, makeup smudged, a love bite blooming on her neck. She grinned, just a little.

"Worth it," she muttered, and got to work.

Meanwhile, Arin was in the parking lot, fumbling with his keys, heart pounding. He slid into the driver's seat, started the engine, and the radio blared to life.

"This is an emergency broadcast for all citizens of Los Angeles. Repeat, all citizens are requested to remain indoors. Do not attempt to travel-"

He frowned, turning the volume up. "What the hell?"

His phone buzzed again-Dad. He answered, voice rushed. "Hey, Dad, I'm so sorry, we-uh, we overslept, I'm on my way-"

Static on the other end. His father's voice, barely audible. "AARIN-S-TAY-"

"Dad? You're breaking up, I can't-hello?"

He pulled out of the underground parking, squinting at the sky. Something was off. The clouds were swirling, dark and unnatural, and was that a shadow moving across the sun?

The static cleared for a second, and his father's voice came through, urgent, terrified. "ARIN! THERE'S SOMETHING IN THE SKY-"

Arin's breath caught. He looked up, and saw it-a tear in the sky, black and writhing, like the world itself was splitting open. It was getting bigger. Closer.

He dropped the phone, hands shaking.

"Arin! Arin!" his dad's voice, faint, desperate, lost to the static.

He couldn't move. Couldn't think. The sky was wrong. Everything was wrong.

Back in the apartment, Maya was on her knees, scrubbing at a suspicious stain on the carpet, when the emergency broadcast echoed from the neighbor's TV. She froze, listening.

"All citizens are advised to remain indoors. This is not a drill-"

She dropped the sponge, her heart hammering. She grabbed her phone, still dead.

She looked out the window, saw people running, pointing at the sky. She swallowed hard, fear prickling at her skin.

"Arin, where the hell are you?" she whispered,