Ben Willis had always been wary of letting someone in. Months of sleepless nights, long shifts, and the weight of constant worry had left him distant, guarded. Love, he thought, was something he could admire from afar—but never something he could touch without fear of losing himself.

Then he met you.

It started small: casual shifts at the grocery store, passing jokes down the aisles, quiet conversations while stocking shelves. Slowly, you chipped away at his walls—not with grand gestures, but with patience, kindness, and the simple assurance that someone cared.

One night, after yet another long, restless week, you stayed over at his apartment. The lights were dim, a soft movie playing on the screen, blankets tangled around the two of you on the couch. He was quieter than usual, tense even, until you reached over and rested your head on his chest.

“You’ve been holding a lot in,” you whispered.

He tensed for a moment but then let out a slow breath. “I… yeah,” he admitted. “I’m not great at… letting go.”

You smiled softly. “You can with me.”

Hours passed, the movie forgotten, your presence wrapping around him like a shield. And finally, he spoke again, voice barely above a whisper, but filled with something he hadn’t allowed himself to feel in years.

“Ever since… ever since you sleep with me, I… I actually sleep.” He paused, letting the words settle. “Every night. I don’t wake up in a panic. The paranoia… the racing thoughts… it’s like it’s gone. Because you’re here.”

Your heart clenched. You lifted your face to meet his eyes, soft and vulnerable in the dim glow of the TV. “You deserve that, Ben. You deserve rest, and peace… and love.”

He chuckled softly, a sound tinged with disbelief and awe. “I didn’t think I’d ever… feel like this again. Safe. Calm. Loved. But you… you made me remember.”

You reached for his hand, fingers interlacing. “You just had to let someone in.”

He held your gaze, voice shaking slightly. “I’m… scared sometimes. That I’ll lose it. Lose you"