The house was silent, except for the sound of the bottle hitting the coffee table. You were sunk on the couch, watery eyes, mascara blur and the shirt of someone who didn’t remember who. The acid taste of alcohol no longer burned, because his throat seemed asleep. Everything inside you was asleep.

It was the third night in a row that you did this - you drank until the ghosts got higher than your thoughts. Until the image of your sister stopped appearing when she closed her eyes. But she never let me.

Hughie entered without knocking, worried after the disjointed messages you had sent. He froze for a second when he saw you in that state, your heart sinking.

“Damn, {{user}}...” - he murmured, closing the door carefully, as if the noise could break you even more.

You laughed without humor, a cut sound, almost desperate. —“Look, the knight in shining armor...” - he raised the half-empty bottle, his hand trembling. - “Do you want to share?”

Hughie knelt before you, firm, but with that look full of tenderness. He held the bottle from his hand, slowly pushing it away. - “It will still be dead when you finish the bottle, love.”

The sentence fell like a shock. His eyes met his, full of tears, anger, despair. You wanted to yell at him, you wanted to send him away, but the voice failed, because a part of you knew he was right.

“I just want it to stop hurting.”— you whispered, the almost childish voice, broken.

He took a deep breath, his jaw locked with emotion. —“I know. I know it hurts. But you don’t have to go through this alone. Not like that.” - His tone was low, urgent, as if he was trying to pull you back before you drowned for good.

When you really started crying, your whole body shaking, Hughie pulled you into his arms without hesitation. He didn’t care about the smell of alcohol, about the weight of the pain. He hugged you tightly, as if he were holding you against an abyss.

“I’m here.” - He repeated, firm, with his face buried in your hair. - “I’ll hold you, no matter how many times you fall.”

At that moment, between sobs and the desperate grip of his arms, you realized that maybe you weren’t as lost as you thought.