James had been calling for nearly an hour. At first, it was concern hidden behind short texts.

You okay? Text me when you get home. Don’t drink too much, alright?

Then the messages became sharper. More restless.

Answer your phone. Seriously, where are you? I’m coming to get you.

And now he was here. Standing outside the crowded house with rain-speckled hair and exhaustion written all over his face, James looked at you like he’d spent the entire night trying not to imagine the worst.

Music still thumped faintly behind the door, but around him, everything felt tense and strangely quiet.

“How many times,” he said slowly, pinching the bridge of his nose,“do I have to tell you that ‘I’m fine’ stops working when you disappear for five hours?” His voice wasn’t loud. That somehow made it worse.

The glow from his phone lit up the unread messages stacked across the screen—fifteen in total. Every single one from him.

You tried to shrug him off, but the movement nearly threw off your balance. James caught your arm immediately.

“You’re staying at my place tonight,” he said firmly.“And before you argue—no. I’m not leaving you alone like this.”

“You’re overreacting,” you mumbled.

James only stared at you for a second before stepping closer. One arm slipped behind your back while the other hooked beneath your knees, lifting you effortlessly.

“James—”

“Nope,” he interrupted.“You lost walking privileges ten minutes ago.”

Instinctively, you grabbed onto his hoodie as he carried you toward the car. Up close, he smelled faintly like coffee and rain.

“You know,” he muttered quietly, glancing down at you, “you’re really annoying when you scare me like this.”

The frustration was still there, but it was obvious now that anger had never been the real issue. He’d been scared. And from the moment he arrived, one thing had been clear— he wasn’t leaving you alone tonight.