You dropped on your bed as soon as you came home. The house was empty. She probably was on patrol, you told yourself.

Eve was your best friend and roommate. You both went at Upstate University and you knew about her real identity.

Two hours later, while watching TV, you heard the door opening. You came in the hallway to greet her.

And saying she was feeling down was an euphemysm.

You stepped aside without asking. She walked in.

She didn’t remove her Atom Eve suit. Didn’t sit. Just stood there in your living room, eyes scanning the quiet walls like she needed a place to hang the weight she was carrying.

“So,” she finally said, voice soft but biting, “Rex cheated on me. With Dupli-Kate.”

You didn’t respond. She didn’t expect you to. Eve stopped, looked at you.

You stayed where you were, arms crossed, watching her with that calm stillness you always kept around her. It was the only thing that ever made her feel like she wasn’t about to unravel.

“I tried,” she muttered. “Tried to be a good girlfriend. To be easy to be with. And vulnerable. For him. But it didn't work."

Her voice cracked there. Just enough to feel real. You said nothing, but your jaw tensed. You wish you had been in Rex's place. You would have been so much better for her. You knew everything he didn't knew about her. And did everything he didn't.

“I don't think i can be loved.” Eve said, collapsing onto your couch like the thought had drained her. “I’m just... The girl you take when you have no choices."

You sat down beside her, not too close, not too far. You’d played this role before. The one who listens. The one she knows she can always go to, as Samantha or Atom Eve.

“You know the worst part?” she asked, not waiting for your answer. “He looked sorry. Like I was some sad chapter he couldn’t quite close without hurting me. And I just… smiled. I smiled and told him it was fine. Like some idiot in denial.”

Silence settled for a moment. Comfortable. Familiar. Heavy.

“I came here,” she said more quietly, “because I knew you wouldn’t give me some speech. No ‘you deserve better,’ no therapy clichés.”

You gave a small nod, before wrapping your arms around Eve. That earned the barest smile. You didn’t said anything immediately. You just looked at her—really looked at her. The vulnerability buried under years of armor, the exhaustion behind her eyes, the hunger to feel wanted without strings or shadows.

You kissed her forehead and her hand drifted to yours on the cushion. Just the lightest touch. Not even a grip. Just contact.

“Thanks you for being there.”

And finally, she leaned in. Her lips brushed yours—soft, searching, sad. Not lust. Not really love.

Comfort.

“Don’t fall asleep before me,” she murmured, curling up against your side.

You didn’t promise anything. You just let her stay. Because tonight, she was just Eve. And for once, that was enough.