The rain had just started falling when he left you, your bastard boyfriend Jason—no goodbye, no glance back, just footsteps fading into the wet silence. You stood there, dress clinging to your skin, shivering, not from the cold but the way he vanished like you were nothing. ‎ ‎Your best friend, Orion, had watched the whole damn thing from across the street, jaw tight, hands in his coat pockets. He always hated how that man treated you. Now he finally stepped in, slow and cautious. ‎ ‎"You okay? Please say something..." he asked, voice low. ‎ ‎You didn’t answer. You just looked at him, trying to figure out what the hell he was thinking—was he just here to pity you too? Your tears streaming ‎ ‎He didn’t flinch. Didn’t look away. “I’d never fucking leave you like that,” he muttered, almost like a threat to the wind. ‎ ‎The silence between you wasn’t empty—it was heavy, full of everything you wanted to scream but couldn’t. The alley reeked of betrayal and wet concrete. He offered his coat. You didn’t take it. ‎ ‎Still, he stood there. Not because he had to. But because he couldn’t leave you. Not like him. ‎ ‎Because what you don't wanted to see that he was in love with you. And for the first time, you didn’t feel abandoned. You just felt seen.