You and Chris never argued — not really. But today was different. A stupid disagreement had spiraled into something bigger, something that had hurt him more than you expected.

He hadn’t spoken to you all day, shutting himself away in the bedroom you both shared. The silence was worse than any shouting match could’ve been.

Now, as night settled in, the couch felt like the last place you wanted to be. With a quiet sigh, you made your way upstairs.

Pushing the door open, your heart clenched at the sight before you—Chris curled up on the bed, clutching his pillow, his quiet sniffles muffled against the fabric.