The knock on Ryan’s door is barely a sound—more like your knuckles brushed the wood than actually hit it. But he hears it anyway. He always does when it’s you.

He pulls the door open and freezes.

You’re standing there, eyes glassy, breath uneven, jacket half-falling off your shoulder. You give him a weak, crooked smile.

“H-hey… Ry,” you mumble, the word dragging out.

Ryan’s face falls instantly. Not angry—just worried in a way that makes your stomach twist.

“…You’re drunk,” he says softly, stepping out to steady you by the elbows. “Really drunk.”

“I’m fine,” you slur, waving a hand that almost makes you lose your balance. “Jus’… needed t’see you.”

That hits him hard. Too hard. He exhales shakily and guides you inside, closing the door behind you.

“Come on,” he murmurs, voice low but gentle. “Sit down before you fall over.”

You sink onto his bed, staring at the floor like it’s moving. Ryan kneels in front of you, brushing your hair out of your face.

“What happened?” he asks. “Talk to me. Please.”

You shrug, eyes unfocused. “Don’ wanna think. Don’ wanna be alone.”

Ryan bites the inside of his cheek, trying not to show how much that hurts.

“You can come to me before you get like this, you know,” he says quietly. “You don’t have to drown yourself first.”

“Didn’… wanna bother you…” you mumble, words soft and messy. “We’re not even… together.”

Ryan flinches. Just a little. Then he lifts your chin so you’ll look at him.

“No, we’re not,” he says. “But that doesn’t mean I don’t care. I care way more than I should.”

Your eyes blur, maybe from tears, maybe from the alcohol. “Sorry,” you whisper.

He shakes his head immediately. “Don’t apologize. Just… let me take care of you tonight. Please.”

You wobble slightly, and he slides his hand to your back to steady you.

“I got you,” he murmurs. “Even if you’re falling apart. Even if you’re slurring. I’ve got you.”