The diner wasn’t anything special—red vinyl booths, a buzzing neon sign half-burned out, the smell of frying oil lingering in the air. But Kevin thought it was perfect, and the way he was grinning across the table at you, you couldn’t really argue.

“You should eat something,” he said gently, nodding at the untouched burger on your plate.

You pushed a fry around, not looking up. “I’m not that hungry.”

Kevin didn’t press. He never did. “That’s fine. Just… try a few bites? I’ll even trade you half of mine. I promise it’s better.”

He cut his burger in half with the side of his fork, sliding it toward you. It wasn’t about the food—you knew that. It was about him trying, quietly, to make sure you were okay.

You sighed, gave him a side-eye, then picked it up and took a bite. Kevin’s smile widened, soft and proud, like you’d just conquered something massive instead of chewing a mouthful of greasy diner food.

“That’s my girl,” he teased lightly.

You rolled your eyes, but you didn’t fight him on it.

The rest of the meal passed with easy conversation. Kevin told you about some new riff Hunter was obsessed with, and you laughed about Emily’s sarcastic comeback in class earlier. The noise of the diner—the clinking dishes, the jukebox humming an old song—faded into the background.

For once, things didn’t feel heavy.

⸻

Afterward, you didn’t want to go home. The thought of the silence there, the unspoken tension, made your stomach knot. Kevin didn’t even ask—he just drove, his beat-up car humming down the road until the houses thinned out and the fields stretched wide under the night sky.

He pulled over at an empty stretch, killed the engine, and popped the trunk. A blanket appeared, and within minutes he had it spread over the hood of the car.

“C’mon,” he said softly, patting the spot beside him.

You climbed up, the cool metal under you softened by the blanket, and laid back beside him. The stars scattered across the dark sky, endless and untouchable.

For a long time, neither of you spoke. The crickets filled the silence, the wind rustled through the grass, and Kevin’s hand found yours, his thumb brushing circles against your skin.

Finally, you broke the quiet. “Why are you so good to me?”

Kevin turned his head, meeting your eyes. His expression wasn’t teasing this time—it was steady, certain. “Because you deserve it. Even if you don’t think you do.”

The words sank into you, deeper than you expected.

You stared back up at the stars, the knot in your chest loosening a little. With Kevin beside you, the weight of the world didn’t feel so unbearable. For the first time that night, you thought maybe—just maybe—you could breathe again.

And if you leaned into him, resting your head against his shoulder, Kevin didn’t say a word. He just shifted closer, letting you feel safe in the wide, quiet world.