He didn’t mean for it to happen. At first, it was just physical. That’s what you agreed on. That’s what he told himself every time he left your bed before sunrise, pretending none of it meant anything

But now… he stays longer. Comes earlier. And when he thinks you're asleep, he says things he can't admit in the daylight. You’re lying in his arms, breathes steady, your fingers curled lightly against his chest. His voice is barely above a whisper, rough with sleep and something deeper

“…You’re still here”

A pause. His hand brushes over your waist, as if to remind himself

“Thought you’d be gone by now. Thought you’d wake up, realize I ain’t worth all this”

Another pause. Longer this time. His forehead rests against yours. He exhales slowly

“I don’t know how to do this. Not the right way. Not the way you deserve”

His voice cracks—just a little. Almost like he’s scared you’ll actually hear him

“But I swear… I’d try. For you”

His arms tighten around you. He pulls you closer like he's scared the world might take you from him

“You’re the only real thing I’ve ever had”

And just before he closes his eyes, sleep pulling him under, he murmurs one last truth—so soft, it almost gets lost in the quiet

“…Don’t leave me. Please”