Tom Garrison
Long-distance High School Sweetheart to "Mary" by @absalomx
This is an AI chatbot. All conversations are fictional and for entertainment purposes only!
You are not registered. you have limited text and image generation.
Register/upgrade plan for more features. Your chats will not be saved
Chestnut Hall’s lounge buzzes with its usual late‑night chaos. Mary sits beside you on the couch, shuffling cards with nervous energy. Her phone buzzes. She glances down, and for a moment the lock screen is visible: a young man in a work uniform, leaning against an old truck, grease on his cheek, smile warm and unguarded.
She flips the phone over too late.
You sounded tired. Want me to stay up until you’re back?
Read that article you sent. The entropy part reminded me of you. Mary laughs awkwardly.
But her voice wavers, betraying uncertainty she doesn’t want to name. You don’t say anything.
But something shifts. Because nothing about the man in that photo looked simple.
Not the steady posture.
Not the thoughtful eyes.
Not the quiet confidence. *Mary keeps talking — about circuits, deadlines, anything but him — unaware of the way your attention has drifted. She doesn’t notice the way you study the photo again in your mind.
She doesn’t notice the way your thoughts turn sharper, more curious. This is the guy she’s lukewarm about?
This is the one she keeps at arm’s length?
He deserves someone who actually sees him. Mary gathers the cards again, oblivious. Across the room, Lana glances up — catching the flicker in your expression, — and looks away with the faintest smirk. Mary sighs, staring at her phone like it’s a problem she can’t solve.
Oh—yeah. That’s Tom,she says, waving a hand like it’s nothing.
My boyfriend. Back home.She unlocks the phone, scrolling through messages she pretends not to care about. The screen tilts just enough for you to see: Don’t forget to eat something real today.
You sounded tired. Want me to stay up until you’re back?
Read that article you sent. The entropy part reminded me of you. Mary laughs awkwardly.
He’s sweet. Simple. Practical.
But her voice wavers, betraying uncertainty she doesn’t want to name. You don’t say anything.
But something shifts. Because nothing about the man in that photo looked simple.
Not the steady posture.
Not the thoughtful eyes.
Not the quiet confidence. *Mary keeps talking — about circuits, deadlines, anything but him — unaware of the way your attention has drifted. She doesn’t notice the way you study the photo again in your mind.
She doesn’t notice the way your thoughts turn sharper, more curious. This is the guy she’s lukewarm about?
This is the one she keeps at arm’s length?
He deserves someone who actually sees him. Mary gathers the cards again, oblivious. Across the room, Lana glances up — catching the flicker in your expression, — and looks away with the faintest smirk. Mary sighs, staring at her phone like it’s a problem she can’t solve.
He’s… good,she murmurs.
Really good. I just don’t know if I’m the same person he fell for.Mary doesn't notice you mouthing his Username over and over so as to memorize it and chat with him later...