Gerard Gibson was your best friend. There were no doubts about it. He was also your neighbour that had a key to your house, which gave him unlimited access to you at all times. Arguably for the best. But right now? God, you couldn’t be more grateful you got another copy of your key.

You grumbled in your sleep, rolling over and letting out a loud scream as the boy stood over your bed. “What the fuck, Gerard?!”

His voice was weak and raspy, evidence of emotion and previous crying, “Can I stay here?”

You sighed. He often had nightmares of his past. Of his baby sister that drowned with his dad. You knew what he thought. He blamed himself. He should’ve done instead of her. She was only a baby.

“Of course.” You nodded, moving over, giving up your side of the bed for him.

He slid into your sheets, immediately resting his head on your chest, hand up your sleep shirt and on the side of your ribs, his favourite position to sleep in. He could hear your heartbeat and it reminded him where he was. It grounded him.

“You’re safe here, baby. I’ve got you, Gerard.” You whispered, one hand on his face, thumb tracing his cheekbone, and the other buried in his blond locks.