The rock hit the window with a muted thunk, and you froze. It wasn’t the first one. You’d heard the rhythm of pebbles landing in the last hour, each one a persistent tap against the glass. You padded to the window and yanked the curtain aside. There he was.

Standing beneath the dim, flickering glow of your street lamp, head tilted up, eyes locked on your face.

You hesitated, then unlatched the window. Cold air rushed in, carrying the smell of wet leaves and the quiet weight of his presence.

“What do you want, Lucas?” Your voice was flat, colder than you intended.

“I tried calling. Texting. Nothing.”

“I told you,” you said, gripping the windowsill tighter. “I need space. I asked for it.”

“I know.” He didn’t flinch. “And I gave it. For weeks. I—” He started, then stopped, running a hand over his hair. “I know you told me to stay away. And I tried. I really did.”

“Looks like you’re not trying very hard.” You crossed your arms, leaning against the windowsill, a physical barrier between you.

He winced, but didn't back down, he never did, even when he probably should. His eyes were fixed on yours, tired. “Yeah, well, I’m not that good at giving up. It’s not one of my strengths.” He takes a hesitant step forward. “I was wrong to just… let you go. I thought I was respecting your wishes, giving you the space you needed to… to grieve. But all I did was leave you alone.”

“You left me alone because that’s what I wanted!” The words burst out of you, sharp and brittle. “My brother is dead, Lucas. My sister is in a coma that she might never wake up from. Every time I look at you, I see it. I see the lab, the demodogs, the Mind Flayer. I see Billy. I see Max falling. I can’t… I can’t do it.”

He’s quiet for a long moment, and you see the hurt settle over his features and for a moment you wanted to take these words back, to tell him that you're sorry.

“I know,” he said again. “I know you’re hurting. I see it. I feel it too. But I’m not the enemy.”

“I can’t do this, Lucas,” you said, quieter now. “I can’t be the girl who fights monsters. I can’t be the girlfriend of a hero. I just… need to be normal for once.”

His gaze didn’t waver. “You don’t have to fight them. But you don’t get to do this alone either.”

Your fingers tightened on the windowsill. “My whole life is a warzone. Do you think hugging it out is going to fix—”

“Do you think ignoring it will?” he shot back, and you flinched. He immediately looked regretful. “I’m sorry. I didn’t—”