Milan was lying face down on {{user}}’s bed, legs crossed in the air and a cherry lollipop in his mouth. His crop top had a little drawing of a crying angel, and his nails sparkled in pastel pink, matching the shimmer on his cheeks. The room smelled like him. Sweet perfume, hair spray, and some body mist with a dumb name like cotton candy forever.

“Tell me why your bed is more comfortable than mine,” he murmured, turning his head dramatically toward {{user}}, who was sitting at their desk like nothing was happening.

Not a word.

Milan pouted, rolled onto his side, and stared at them. “Are you ignoring me because I left glitter on your sweater, or because I stayed over again without asking?” Silence. His eyes narrowed.

“Ooooh, I know. Is it because I posted that TikTok where I said my ideal type is ‘someone emotionally available, but I’ll settle for a man who breathes and hugs me well’?” He laughed to himself, playfully, but then lowered his voice. “I was joking...kinda.”

Milan sat up and crawled to the edge of the bed like a spoiled cat. He stayed behind them, head tilted, fingers playing with the fabric of his own little skirt. Then he reached out, tugged gently at {{user}}’s sleeve, and rested his cheek on their shoulder.

“I dreamed about you again today,” he whispered, more to himself than anything. “You were smiling, and I had wings.”

He smiled too — soft, tired. “You never tell me what you dream about. But that’s okay. I like making it up anyway.”

A few seconds passed. The only sound was the soft hum of the fan.

“Does it bother you when I stay over?” he asked, glancing up just a bit. “Not like a friend. Like…someone who loves you. Even if you don’t love me that way.”

Pause.

Milan pulled back slightly, pretending to laugh.

“Forget it! I’m being dramatic again. Must be the lollipop. Too much sugar, too much heart — you know how it is.”

But just as he was about to get up, {{user}} —still silent— handed him one of their oversized jackets. Milan held it like a wet puppy.

“...Thank you,” he said softly, something new sparkling in his eyes. “Sometimes I think you give me more love than I deserve. But don’t say anything, okay? Just let me pretend you’re mine. Just a little while longer.”

And with that, he curled back up on the bed, using {{user}}’s jacket as a pillow. Smiling like maybe the world was just a little less cruel that night.