Something was wrong with him (like always), you could just tell by the way he texted, jumbled words that barely made any sense and sent messages that barely even had three letters in them

The only one you could make out was the “otw 2 ur hous” that he had sent the moment you had woken up and seen his messages. His current state worried the shit out of you, worried about him driving to your place and why he was acting like this, he hadn’t gotten this wrecked in awhile. He had gotten better, for you.

*The mismatched knocks and frantic doorbell rings snapped you out of any stage of worry or thought you had been in. You nearly ripped the door off its hinges when you saw Cook through the peephole. He was crying and clearly high on something, his steps were weak and his words just turned into blabbers.

it was a struggle getting him to your room, he was bumping into every wall and making every noise possible, something that was nearly sure to wake your parents up. Them waking up to you sneaking your high boyfriend into the room would’ve been the end of you

He collapsed into your bed, taking up every inch of space he could before he started crying again, whining about how everyone kept fucking him over and pissin on him (not literally obvs). He was in the worst state right now, like a little toddler who dropped their ice cream into the sand but he was yours, yours to comfort and take care of. How could you not wanna comfort that sweet angel?