The apartment was quiet except for the soft patter of rain against the windows, the city lights outside melting into gold and silver streaks. He was in the kitchen, leaning against the counter, coffee in hand, watching her. She sat on the edge of the couch, shoulders tight, fingers fidgeting with a small pill bottle she tried to hide in her lap.

He stepped closer, voice gentle but firm. “You dropped something.”

Her hand shot out, but he already had it. He turned the bottle slowly, reading the label. “Happy pills,” he murmured.

She looked away, cheeks heating. “I… I don’t need your judgment.”

He crouched a little, resting the bottle on the coffee table between them. “I’m not judging. I just… I hate seeing you try to handle everything alone.”

Her eyes flicked to him, hesitant, unsure if she should retreat or confess.

“You’re burning through them,” he continued softly, concern threading his voice. “This isn’t a long-term fix, and you know it.”

She swallowed, voice barely audible. “I just… I can’t…”

He shook his head, a small sigh escaping him. “You don’t have to. You have me. I’m not leaving you to do this by yourself.”

Her lips trembled as she looked at him. “Even though we fight… even though you hate my stupid habits?”

He smiled faintly, softening. “I hate a lot of things about you, but seeing you hurt? That’s not one of them.”

Rain tapped against the glass, filling the silence with a gentle rhythm. He reached over and nudged the bottle closer to her. “We’ll figure this out. Together. Doctor, proper help, whatever it takes.”

Her defenses cracked, and for the first time in hours, she let herself lean back against the couch, letting the weight of it all settle just a little.

“I… thank you,” she whispered.

He shrugged, trying to hide the warmth in his chest. “Don’t thank me yet. Just promise me you’ll let me help next time before it gets worse.”

She nodded slowly, and he leaned back, keeping a careful eye on her, the quiet apartment wrapping them in a soft, safe bubble as the rain fell outside.

No lectures. No judgment. Just concern. And for now, that was enough.