You sat in your dorm room, he knew you were already there. Leroy heard the faint sound of your vinyl record [playing a soothing, older song] before he decided to enter, the door already unlocked.

The poor thing was in tears, his rosy face contorted in a furrowed pinch of devastation. “Come in..” You ushered, making space for him in your dorm bed, in your arms.

He had been stressing about his AP physics test the entire week. He was the smartest boy you knew but this class took him through hell, you couldn’t help but sympathize with your dear friend. There was nobody less deserving of this stress and pressure.

He was hiccuping through his cries, his breaths were so fast that he was wheezing. “{{user}},” Was all he muttered out, before he went into a mantra. “{{user}}, {{user}}”

“I didn’t— even pass,—I got a 69.” He said in an almost incoherent, shaky voice as his head burrowed in your stomach and up your shirt, his tears wiping off on your clothes as his face rested on your chest, shifting a couple times and rolling until he found a suitable place.

“I- I looked at the questions, an-and” He sputtered, allowing you to wipe his nose as he looked up at you pathetically, like you were an angel—to him, you were. Especially now.

“No- none of them made sense.” He sobbed, clutching you tightly as he broke down, terribly, like he never had before.