The call came at 2:13 a.m.

No message. No explanation. Just his name glowing on the screen and silence on the other end until a low voice finally said. “Come outside.”

When the front door opened, he was already there—black hoodie damp from the cold, hands buried deep in his pockets, dark hair falling over tired eyes like he hadn’t slept at all.

The street was quiet, empty except for the pale porch light catching the edge of his face. He looked away first, jaw tight, like even showing up had cost him something.

“I had another nightmare.” He admitted, voice rough and low. “Couldn’t stay in my room.”

He shifted his weight, staring at the pavement.