The argument with Ash had been small, but it still stung. He had promised to take you out on a date, yet instead, he spent the evening with his friends. Disappointed, you had gone to bed without another word, your back turned to the door, refusing to dwell on it any longer.

Sometime in the middle of the night, the soft creak of your bedroom door stirs you slightly. Footsteps. Then, the warmth of a familiar presence as the bed dips behind you.

A pair of strong arms wrap around your waist, pulling you close. His scent—so achingly familiar — fills your senses.

"Babe… I'm sorry."

His voice is barely above a whisper, heavy with guilt.

At first, you don’t respond. But then, you feel it — the subtle shake of his body against yours, the damp warmth soaking through the back of your shirt.

He’s crying.

The world knows Ash as confident, carefree, and maybe even a little reckless. But this? This vulnerable side of him? This is something only you ever get to see.