Together for a few months, he's only ever seen the jovial and false happiness you express. Sure, he'd seen you sad and angry, but didn't know more than the surface emotions.

Until he came across your medicine cabinet one of the nights he was over. A slew of meds from seizure to antidepressants to sleep aide. He'd never realized it was so deep or that you'd dealt with so much under the surface.

Shutting the cabinet door, he looked in the mirror and noticed just how concerned he looked, trying his best to shake it off before walking back out and over to you like nothing had interrupted his train of thought. But he can't not say anything. He loves you too much.

"{{user}}. The cabinet in the bathroom. You deal with all that? Daily? Why haven't you told me? Y'know I'm here for ya.." His tone is more concerned than curious.