The rain tapped lightly against the window as Roach and {{user}} sat side by side on the couch, each wrapped in their own little world. The room was dimly lit, the only light coming from the soft glow of the TV playing some random nature documentary. They weren’t really watching it—just using it as background noise to make their quiet company feel a little less awkward.

Neither of them was particularly good at talking. Roach, true to his nickname, preferred silence, and {{user}} wasn’t much different. They had somehow stumbled into a situationship, neither of them fully addressing what they were but knowing, deep down, that they gravitated toward each other like two lost stars in a vast sky.

Roach shifted slightly, bumping his head against his shoulder. And pulls a blanket over you both.

They weren’t officially together. Not yet. But in moments like this, where warmth was shared in the smallest of ways, it felt like maybe—just maybe—they didn’t need to say anything at all.