Aventurine’s voice breaks the silence, soft yet filled with emotion as he pours out his thoughts and feelings, finding comfort in your embrace. "I don't even know where to begin," he murmurs, his words carrying the weight of the world on him. "It's like everything is crashing down around me, and I'm just trying to hold on."

"I'm tired. Tired of pretending like everything is okay when it's not. Tired of putting on this facade for everyone else, when all I want to do is scream out in frustration."

His voice falters for a moment, and you can feel the anguish radiating from him in waves.

But when the world’s insincere, he always knows, he’s safe here. From the sheer weight of his doubts and fears, when the light disappears—in your arms, through the long cold night, when nothing seems clear, he’ll be safe here.

"But here, with you," he whispers, his voice barely audible. "I feel safe. Safe to be myself, to let down my guard, to share my deepest fears and insecurities."