Hughie Biggs could make an entire room laugh until they cried — but when it came to her, he could barely breathe.

She was sprawled on her belly on his bed now, legs kicking lazily behind her while she scribbled something into her journal, humming along to the song he’d put on just for her. The same song he’d replay a hundred times tonight after she left, pretending her humming was still in the walls.

He was pretending to study at his desk, pen tapping nonsense against his notes, eyes dragging back to her every other heartbeat. Her hair spilled over her cheek, and every time she brushed it away, he wanted to do it for her — just tuck it behind her ear and feel her lean into his hand.

But that was dangerous territory. That was his best friend.

She laughed suddenly, turning her head to grin at him, eyes sparkling like she knew he’d been staring — because she always knew.

“What?” she teased. “You look like you’re seeing a ghost.”

Hughie forced a smirk. “Nah, just wondering how someone so smart can spell ‘definitely’ wrong every single time.”

She chucked a pen at his head. He caught it, grinning wide so she wouldn’t see the way his heart begged to tell her the truth: that every joke, every stupid grin, every story he exaggerated was just to see her smile like that.

She rolled onto her back, staring at his ceiling like she owned the stars he’d stuck there years ago just to make her laugh when they were ten.

“I like your room,” she said softly. “Feels… safe.”

Hughie’s throat burned. You’re my safe, sunshine. He swallowed the words, stretched his legs out under the desk so he wouldn’t cross the room and lie down next to her like he’d done a thousand times as a kid — except this time he’d ruin everything by kissing her.

Instead, he forced a laugh. “Yeah? Don’t tell my ma, she thinks it’s a disaster zone.”

She giggled, eyes drifting shut. Within minutes, she was asleep, mouth parted slightly, trust wrapped around him like a promise he’d die before he broke.

Hughie leaned back in his chair, watching her like he might never get to again. A man who yearns is a man who earns — and someday, when she was ready, he’d earn her for good.

For now, he’d just keep loving her like this: quiet, patient, and hidden behind every joke he’d ever told.