Erik Menedez had spent so much of his life searching for something steady, something good—something that couldn’t be taken away. In the quiet of his mind, he sometimes wondered if such a thing even existed.

But then there was you.

With you, the world didn’t feel so sharp. You laughed with him, not at him. You listened when he stumbled through words he didn’t know how to shape. When his thoughts turned heavy, you never recoiled. Instead, you reached for his hand, grounding him in ways he never thought possible.

One evening, the two of you sat together in the soft light of your apartment. Erik’s arm was draped around your shoulders, and you were leaning against his chest, tracing lazy circles on his hand. He looked down at you, his heart swelling with something he couldn’t contain anymore.

“You know,” he said quietly, almost in awe, “you are the best thing that’s ever been mine.”