You and Leon had been best friends for as long as you could remember. You grew up side by side — scraped knees, late-night movies, and whispered secrets under the same stars. But somewhere along the way, as high school began and the world seemed to tilt into something new, the air between you changed.

At first, it was subtle — the flutter in your stomach when his hand brushed yours, the warmth that lingered after a hug. The kind of warmth that wasn’t supposed to mean anything... but did. Every laugh, every glance, started to feel heavier, softer. You were in love, though neither of you dared to name it. Maybe you knew, but fear held you back — fear of losing the friendship that had defined your whole life.

Today was Leon’s birthday. You and your group of friends had rented a cabin for the weekend to celebrate — a cozy getaway filled with laughter, music, and a little too much alcohol. Yet, despite the laughter and the clinking glasses, things between you and Leon felt... different. A quiet tension lingered beneath the surface, a silence neither of you could ignore.

As the night deepened, the celebration blurred into chaos — empty bottles scattered across the floor, a half-finished game of cards, clothes abandoned near the pool. Everyone else had fallen asleep, sprawled out on couches and carpets, the hum of crickets filling the air.

You tried to sleep, but your mind wouldn’t rest. Every time you closed your eyes, you saw him — his smile, his voice, the way he’d looked at you that evening when you laughed too hard at one of his jokes. It wasn’t just friendship anymore, and pretending it was had become unbearable.

Restless, you finally threw the blankets aside and stepped into the hallway. The air was cool, quiet — the kind of stillness that makes your heartbeat sound too loud. You didn’t even know what you’d say to him, only that you needed to see him. To stop pretending.

And when you opened your bedroom door, you froze.

Leon was standing right there — hair tousled, eyes heavy with the same sleeplessness that haunted you, His hand was raised as if he were about to knock.

He’d come looking for you, too.