The playlist was in random mode, low light in his room, his shirt still on his body. You were lying on your side, watching him mess with his cell phone distractedly.

Until a song started playing. One of those slow, kind of melancholic, with lyrics that talked about being screwed and in love at the same time.

“This song... reminds me of you,” he said, without staring at you.

“Because I’m a walking tragedy?” You joked.

He laughed through his nose, still serious. “Because you break me... and I let you.”

Your smile disappeared. You approached, touching your forehead to his. And there, in the silence that came after the confession, Harris let the walls lower a little more.