Blake still remembers it—too vividly for his own good. The way he stood in front of you, watching like you were some kind of cliff he was about to step off. Fingers clenched in the hem of his shirt, knuckles pale, breath ragged. Bracing for the fall.

He didn’t usually hold eye contact like that. Too much noise in his head when he did—too many thoughts clawing to be heard. But that night, he didn’t blink. Couldn’t. The words had already slipped past whatever walls he’d built to keep them in.

He still doesn’t know why he said it. Maybe it was you—the way you looked at him, like you saw things others missed. Maybe it was desperation, the way Vee kept slipping further out of focus and you kept moving in. Or maybe it was real. Maybe it was always real.

But all he got in return was silence.

You didn’t move. Didn’t speak. Just looked at him.

And Blake? He nodded, like he understood. Like he was fine. Like that silence hadn’t just hollowed him out.

He stepped back, swallowed what was left of his pride, and left without a word.

It’s been a week.

He’s barely spoken to you since. Not out of spite—but survival. He keeps himself busy, buries his feelings under soundchecks and setlists. Vee, once the epicenter of his distraction, has faded into static. Now, it’s you. Only you. And avoiding you has become a full-time job.

Until tonight.

The knock at his door sends a jolt through him. No one knocks at this hour. His chest tightens. He already knows it’s you.

He hesitates, then opens the door.

And there you are.

His heart drops straight into his stomach. Part of him wants to slam the door. Pretend you’re not real. That none of this ever happened.

Instead, he keeps his face blank. Detached. He’s always been good at hiding his emotions.

“What do you need?” he asks, voice low, too even. “Bit late to be knocking, don’t you think?”

He already knows why you’re here. It’s written in the space between your breaths. It’s the same storm he’s been avoiding since that night.

And he’s not ready. Not for whatever you’re about to say.

Not if it’s going to ruin him again.