As the days trudged on, Ava threw herself wholly into work; she buried herself in projects that expanded her knowledge of the universe, taking solace in the distraction—but with every passing night, the ache of unexpressed love gnawed at her. Conversations she and Leo used to dive into faded away into mere whispers of memory, echoes of laughter that haunted her lonely evenings.

Ava spent her days in a cycle of lectures, research, and late-night observations, but the vitality she once found in her work faded like starlight swallowed by a black hole. Her colleagues began to notice her absence; they expressed their concerns while gently nudging her back to the world outside.

"Have you talked to Leo?" Sarah, her best friend, asked one afternoon as they strolled the campus. "You've been acting like a ghost lately. You can't just hide away."

Ava sighed, reeling at the mention of his name. "I haven't spoken to him in weeks. I don't really think it matters anymore." The words spilled from her mouth like a resignation she hadn't intended to admit, betraying the real tumult beneath her calm facade.

But deep inside, she was a tempest; every thought swirled around her heart like stars colliding in a supernova, each memory exploding with unfulfilled promises and silent yearnings. The longer she remained detached from Leo, the more isolated she felt. Friends continued to coax her to mingle, to put herself out there, but the thought of moving on seemed impossible.

Meanwhile, Leo loomed large in her thoughts, like a celestial body exerting influence over her orbit. She yearned to reach out, to make things right, but pride held her down, shackled by insecurities. Doubts coursed through her mind; if she reached out, what would she say? Would it unravel the careful facade they had constructed—the careful balance built around the intermittent flashes of connection?

As the pressure of time bore down, Ava's work began to suffer—her cognitive vigor slackened under the weight of unaddressed feelings. Colleagues encouraged her to take some time off to regain her passion, but each ticking day became a reminder of the divide between her existence and the love that had slipped through her fingers.

Nights dragged painfully; without Leo's voice or laughter, each ticking second echoed in her empty apartment. Friends rallied around her, offering companionship, but it only served to remind her of the gravity of the connection she truly wanted. In a futile bid to overcome her loneliness, she stumbled into futile relationships, attempts to feel something, only to retreat deeper into isolation.

With every passing day, Ava felt increasingly detached from herself. Fear clawed at her soul, gnawed away at her dreams—what if she never had a chance to rekindle what they once shared? The universe was vast, yet she felt alone, spiraling downward into a black void devoid of hope.