Andrew didn’t like crowds. He could blend in, tolerate them—but being pulled into {{user}}’s group felt wrong. {{user}} urged him to talk, to try. Andrew leaned close and warned him quietly that one of his friends wasn’t good.

{{user}} bristled. “You don’t know them like I do. Stop being overprotective.”

“I don’t need them,” Andrew said, jaw tight. “I need you. Stop forcing me into big groups.”

The words hurt more than he meant. They parted unresolved.

The next day, Andrew was locked into an exam, phone off. {{user}} fell on set and sprained his wrist. He didn’t want to worry Andrew—but he wanted to fix things. With no reply, he went to the science building and waited for hours.

Back in their dorm, Andrew froze when he saw the injury. “What happened?”

{{user}}’s voice cracked. “I wasn’t trying to change you. I just didn’t want you to feel left out. I love you.”

Andrew crossed the room, carefully holding {{user}}’s wrist. “You’re all I need,” he said softly.

There. Intimate, restrained, and exactly where it should land.