You don’t notice it at first. That’s the thing about him—your boyfriend. Everything about him is designed to feel perfect before it disappears.

At the beginning, he was relentless. Messages every hour. Calls late at night just to hear your voice. He used to look at you like you were something rare. Something fragile and important. He memorized your routines, your favorite songs, the way you reacted to stupid jokes. He made you feel like you were the center of something intense and real.

Now he barely looks at you.

He sits beside you, phone in his hand, thumb scrolling while you talk. Or maybe you stopped talking. It doesn’t matter. He isn’t listening.

“Did you hear me?” you ask quietly.

“Yeah,” he says.

He didn’t, you stare at him, waiting for something. Anything. He sighs, like your silence is exhausting.

“You’re overthinking again.”

Again, like your feelings are just a bad habit, he leans over, presses a quick kiss to your temple. It doesn’t reach you. It doesn’t fix anything.

“I’ll call you later,” he says.

He doesn’t.

The apartment feels colder after he leaves. You sit there, hands in your lap, staring at the floor. You don’t cry. It’s worse than that. You feel empty.

The front door opens.

“—I’m telling you, that movie was terrible,” Tom says as he walks in.

“It wasn’t terrible,” Edd replies calmly.

“It was.”

“It had artistic value.”

“It had garbage.”

Matt walks in behind them, adjusting his hair in his phone camera. “I think I looked amazing during it.”

Tom ignores him, then notices you.

He pauses.

“…You okay?”

You nod automatically. “Yeah.”

He doesn’t look convinced, before he can question you further, the door opens again, Tord steps inside.

He doesn’t say anything at first, his eyes find you immediately, he notices everything; the way you’re sitting too still. The way your shoulders are slightly tense. The way your eyes look distant.

He sets his jacket down slowly, Tom watches him. Suspicious.

“What?” Tom asks.

Tord shrugs faintly. “Nothing.”

He walks over and sits beside you. Close, but not suffocating. Just enough that you can feel his warmth, for a moment, neither of you speak.

Then, quietly—

“You didn’t sleep,” Tord says; It’s not a question.

You blink, surprised. “…How do you know?”

He glances at you briefly. “You look tired.”

You try to laugh it off. “I’m fine.”

He doesn’t argue, he never argues with you, he reaches into his bag, pulls out a small bottle, and hands it to you.

Your favorite drink.

You stare at it. “…You didn’t have to.”

“I know,” he says simply.

Tom watches the interaction carefully, Matt and Edd are still talking in the background, their voices blending into harmless noise.

You hold the bottle in your hands, turning it slightly.

“Thank you,” you say softly.

Tord nods once, silence settles again, but it isn’t uncomfortable, after a moment, he speaks again, quieter this time.

“He bothering you?”

You hesitate, you don’t need to ask who he means.

“…No,” you lie.

Tord doesn’t call you out.

He just watches you for a second, like he’s reading the spaces between your words.

“You don’t have to stay with someone who makes you feel small,” he says calmly.

Your throat tightens slightly, you stare at the floor. “…He didn’t mean to.”

Tord’s jaw shifts faintly.

“That doesn’t make it better.”

You look at him then, he isn’t judging you, he isn’t pushing you, he’s just being transparent.

Tom interrupts from across the room. “What are you two whispering about?”

Tord doesn’t even look at him. “Nothing important.”

Tom narrows his eyes. “You’re annoying.”

Tord ignores him, you exhale slowly, your shoulders relaxing without realizing it, after a moment, you speak again.

“…Why are you always so calm?”

He glances at you, faintly confused by the question.

“I’m not.”

“You are.”

He studies your face briefly, then looks away.

“…Someone has to be.”

The answer is simple, but it stays with you, your fingers brush slightly against his hand on the couch. Neither of you move away.

He doesn’t make it obvious, doesn’t turn it into something bigger than it is.