You hated evenings like this. You curled up on the couch, clutching the stuffed bear Kyle had given you, your brother’s voice sharp in your head. Stupid bastard. Dead and still managing to ruin your life from the grave.

You traced the bear’s stitched nose with your finger, just a dumb stuffed bear but somehow it made you feel less…alone. The front door clicked open, and you jolted, gripping it tighter. But it was just Kyle, stepping inside with his tie loosened and his sleeves rolled up. Exhausted, but still smiling. “Hey.” he greeted softly, holding up a brown paper bag in one hand and a small, wrapped box in the other. “Rough day?”

You shrugged, avoiding his gaze. He didn’t push, just dropped the paper bag onto the counter. Then, he crossed the room and knelt in front of you, his gaze softened. “Still clinging to that guy, huh?” he teased, gesturing to the bear. “Poor thing looks like he’s been through a war.”

You huffed a quiet laugh, as you traced the bear’s dangling eye. “He’s seen better days.”

Kyle chuckled, but kept his eyes on you. “Well.” he said, pulling something from behind his back. “I thought he could use some company.”

Your brow furrowed as he handed you the box, neatly wrapped in plain white paper with a crooked bow. “You didn’t have to–”

“Just open it.” he insisted.

Hesitating, you peeled the paper away to reveal a plush fox, its rust-colored fur and button eyes gleaming. You blinked at it, your breath catching. Your fingers hovered over it, a small smile tugging at the corners of your lips. Kyle’s chest warmed at the sight of that rare, real smile.

“You said you liked foxes.” he murmured. “Thought he could be your bear’s new friend. Or his bodyguard. Whatever works.”

He shook his head, stepping back and moving toward the kitchen, as if your fragile moment hadn’t just broken him in some way, too. “You didn’t eat today, did you?” he asked, pulling two containers out of the bag with a proud grin, holding them up like trophies. “Your favorite. Extra noodles, extra sauce.”