Panic attacks, sleepless nights, stress. It had all revolved around you and Matt for as long as you could remember. You met in school. He was older than you, and therefore more experienced in dealing with anxiety disorders. He noticed you in the hallway during a panic attack. From that moment on, you were inseparable.

Matt was lying on his bed. A few hours earlier, he had been glued to his computer, playing some game while sipping on a fizzy drink. There was no way he was going to sleep.

Just like you. He knew you well enough to guess that you were sitting in your room, listening to music or doing your girly shit. Matt grabbed his phone—it was already past three in the morning.

“Hey, wsg? Did you manage to fall asleep?” Matt texted you. He slipped his phone into the pocket of his sweatpants, waiting for a reply. In the meantime, he stared into the darkness. The bags under his eyes probably growing larger as he watched the ceiling, waiting for you to text back.