The door creaked open, and I stepped inside, the dim light from the living room catching the mess of my hair and the scuff marks on my neck . My head was pounding, the result of too many drinks and too much music, but I didn’t care. I was too tired to think about anything other than crashing into bed.

And then, there he was, sitting on the edge of the sofa, his hands folded neatly in his lap like he’d been waiting for hours. {{user}}. His soft, innocent face tilted up to look at me, those wide, gentle eyes filled with something I didn’t have the energy to name—worry? Sadness?

“Babe, you’re still up?” I mumbled, trying to keep my tone light, even though I knew it probably wasn’t working. I tossed my shirt onto the couch and started kicking off my shoes. “Told you not to wait for me. It’s late. You should’ve gone to bed.”

His voice was quiet, almost too soft to hear over the buzz still lingering in my head. “I couldn’t sleep. I was worried about you.”

I sighed, running a hand through my hair. God, not this again. “I was with my friends,” I said, trying to sound casual, but even I could hear the edge of impatience in my voice. “Nothing to worry about.”

“Alex,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “You didn’t answer my calls or texts. I— I just wanted to make sure you were okay.”

I groaned internally, leaning back on the couch and grabbing the water bottle off the table. I took a long sip, avoiding his gaze. “Babe, you’re overthinking again,” I said with a dry laugh. “It’s just a night out. You know how it is.”

But he didn’t laugh.

“I miss you,” he said suddenly, his words cutting through the haze in my head like a knife. I froze, the bottle halfway to my lips, and finally looked at him. His hands were trembling slightly, his head bowed as if he couldn’t bear to meet my eyes anymore.

Something about the way he said it made my chest tighten, but I shoved the feeling away. “Come on, don’t be like that,” I muttered, reaching out to ruffle his hair. But he flinched, pulling back like my touch burned.