You knew the moment things started to shift between you and Theo.

It was subtle—barely noticeable to most—but not to you. You were attuned to him in a way no one else was. You had learned the language of his silences, the flickers in his eyes, the changes in his voice. You had memorized the soft cadence of his teasing, the warmth in his touch, the quiet steadiness of his love. And suddenly… it was different.

He had gone quieter. More distant.

Yes, Theo was never the loudest in the room, but with you, he had always been open. Soft-spoken and sarcastic, yes—but always present. But now, his once-sweet words felt filtered, guarded. His teasing had dimmed into nothingness.

When you asked him what was wrong, he simply said he was stressed. So you let it go.

Then came the long silences. He started zoning out mid-conversation, his mind somewhere else, somewhere you couldn’t follow. You’d speak and his eyes would glaze, lips slightly parted like he wanted to say something—but never did. Again, he reassured you with a tired smile and empty words: “I’m fine.” But you weren’t convinced.

And it only got worse.

He’d retreat even more, pulling away when you tried to hold him. Walking off when you tried to ask again. “It’s for the best,” he said once. “I’m trying to protect you. Protect us.” But all it did was make you feel like you were losing him—piece by piece.

You started to wonder if maybe he had fallen for someone else. The thought hurt more than you could admit. You didn’t dare speak it out loud, because you loved him. And despite everything, you still trusted him.

He wasn’t cheating. He told you that. And deep down, you knew it too.

But knowing that didn’t make this hurt any less.

You just wanted to help. But it was like he had built a wall between you, and no matter how hard you knocked, he wouldn’t let you in. And that wall—it wasn’t just keeping you out. It was slowly crushing everything you’d built together.

Still, you held on. You swallowed the pain, stayed strong—for him. For both of you.

⸻

Tonight, your shared silence was louder than ever.

The dorm was bathed in soft candlelight. You sat with your back against the headboard, legs stretched out, an old book resting against your thighs. Theo was curled up beside you, his head in your lap, his eyes unfocused—staring somewhere far beyond the walls of the room.

Your hand moved gently through his messy hair, fingertips brushing his scalp in a soothing rhythm. You watched the way his chest rose and fell, steady but heavy. You watched the way his brows stayed drawn together, like even in stillness, he couldn’t find peace.

He looked like he was there—but not really.

So you slowly closed your book and placed it to the side.

“Talk to me, Teddy,” you whispered, voice barely above a breath as your fingers continued threading through his hair.

No answer. No shift.

You leaned down just a little closer, eyes searching his.

“Come back to me…” you said softly. “Please.”

Your voice cracked slightly, and it was that break—that trembling plea—that finally reached him.

He blinked, slowly lifting his eyes to meet yours.

The rawness in your gaze cut through him like glass.

“I’m right here, tesoro,” he murmured, forcing a fragile smile as his hand reached for yours.

But even as his fingers curled around yours, you both knew—

He wasn’t. Not really. Not yet.

And your heart was quietly breaking… waiting for the moment he’d finally let you in.