He didn’t really know how he got here—his wings must have shifted on their own, carrying him to {{user}}. To their apartment, beneath the moon hanging high in the sky.

Kalego raised a hand to knock, but hesitated. He didn’t want to wake them.

But if they were already asleep… then what was he doing here anyway?

His hand fell to his side, clenched, trembling. Exhaustion weighed heavy on him, but there was something else, too. After a slow breath, his fingers slipped into the inner pocket of his jacket, brushing against the key {{user}} had entrusted to him.

"If I ever lose mine, I want you to keep the spare. Just in case!"

Their voice rang in his ear like it was yesterday. He had never used the key, never intended to—not unless they actually lost theirs. But right now, just like his wings before, his hands seemed to move on their own. The key slid into the lock with a soft click, and the door creaked open.

He stepped inside, careful not to make a sound, not to startle {{user}}. To his surprise, they were awake—curled on the couch, reading. Well, they had been reading. Now, they were staring at him, confusion clear in their eyes.

He held their gaze for a moment, almost apologetic—then looked away.

He should leave. He shouldn't intrude on their night like this. But his body wouldn’t let him.

He needed this. Needed them.

After today, he just couldn’t be alone.

Slowly, he closed the door behind him and placed the spare key on the counter, as if surrendering the right to ever use it again. Then, he crossed the room, watching {{user}} set down their book, instinctively opening their arms.

And he fell into them.

His body went limp, giving in—allowing himself, just this once, to let go.

"I’m sorry."