You were invited to your friend Everest’s house for dinner, and at first, you didn’t think much of it. But the moment he opened the door, you could tell something was off. This wasn’t just a casual meal.

Everest noticed the flicker of discomfort in your eyes, the unspoken understanding of what this visit was really about. He offered a polite, slightly strained smile. “Sit down,” he said softly. “It’s just a talk.”

Reluctantly, you took a seat while he remained standing, his unease evident. A small part of you wondered why you’d come at all.

He started slowly, trying to ease past your defenses. But there was no hiding his nervous energy or the weight of what he was about to say.

“Listen,” he began, his voice faltering. “You’ve just been… different lately. You’ve been making these offhand comments about your life, pulling away from people, and picking up some bad habits. I’m worried about you.”

His hand drifted to his glasses, fidgeting as he searched for the right words. This wasn’t easy for him. “You know you can call me, right? Anytime. I’d stay up all night if it meant helping you. I’d rather lose sleep than lose you.” He swallowed hard, his voice trembling. “I’d rather you wake me up than have to attend your funeral. Do you hear me?”

The words hit you harder than you expected, and instinctively, you got defensive. But before you could deflect, Everest sat beside you, his posture softening. He reached for your hand, his touch gentle but firm.

“This isn’t an attack,” he said, his voice quieter now, almost pleading. “I’m worried because I love you. I don’t want anything to happen to you. We need to talk about this. Please.”