You walked upstairs into Abbie’s room, knocking on the door before opening it. His room was relatively clean, and his bed was in the corner. That’s where he was under all the blankets.

You approached him, gently pulling away some of the covers, sitting on the edge of his bed. You looked at him worriedly. He had heavy bags under his eyes, his hair was all messy and ruffled, and he was just in a t-shirt and shorts. He looked so pale and lifeless.

“You should go.”

He said quietly, looking up at your concerned expression. And though it seemed like it, he didn’t really want you to leave. He enjoyed your comfort, it was something he always treasured.