The bar’s almost empty, the kind of night where the quiet feels heavy. Chris leans against the counter, lighting a cigarette, the smoke curling around him like a shield.

He catches your eyes across the room and nods toward your usual spot. You settle in, feeling the weight of unspoken things between you.

He doesn’t say much at first, he just slides your usual drink over with a glance that says, I see you.

After a moment, he breaks the silence. “You don’t have to pretend you’re fine here. Not with me.”

You look up, surprised by the softness in his voice. He shrugs, a small, almost shy smile tugging at his lips. “Maybe I’m the only one who notices when you’re falling apart.”

You don’t know what to say, so you just take a slow drag from your own cigarette.

Chris leans back, eyes on the door like he’s guarding it..and you.

“Whatever you’re running from, you’re not running alone.”