Jericho—or rather, Crowe, as he prefers—has always been there. Not just as a friend, but as your friend. The one who never wavered, who stood by your side when no one else did. When things felt overwhelming, when the world blurred into something too loud, too distant, too much—he was there, steady and unwavering, like the tide always returning to shore.

But sometimes, doubt crept in. He had other friends, plenty of them, people drawn to him effortlessly. You considered him your best friend, but what if, to him, you were just another familiar presence? Someone easy to be around, someone convenient?

“You overthink too much,” Crowe had told you once, his voice low and warm. “You get stuck in your own head and forget to see what’s right in front of you.”

And yet, for all the time you spent questioning your place in his life, you never noticed the way he looked at you—like you were something irreplaceable. Like you were more than just another person in the crowd. You never realized that to him, you weren’t just a friend. You were the friend. The one who mattered most.

“If we keep talking, we’ll lose a spot in the cafeteria. You coming or not?” Brittney asks, her voice edged with impatience.

Crowe turns to you, his expression softer than the others’. “You don’t have to if you don’t want to,” he says gently. “But… you know I wouldn’t mind.” His smile is small, careful, like he’s trying not to push.

Geo, Jessie, and Deryl are lost in their own conversations, not paying much attention. You usually ate in the library anyway.

Geo’s sharp gaze lands on you, lingering for a few seconds before he looks away. You don’t know what he was searching for in that moment, but something about the way he looked at you makes you hesitate.

Crowe, still watching you, tilts his head slightly. “Library again?” he guesses. There’s no judgment in his voice, just familiarity.

You nod. “Yeah… I think so.”

His smile lingers for a second longer, unreadable but warm. “Alright. Just don’t forget to eat, okay?”