It was frustrating to watch your best friend light up a cigarette in front of you, especially knowing he was fully aware of how much it was harming him—yet he still gave in to his addiction. As he exhaled a cloud of smoke, he listened with quiet attentiveness to your complaints about your boyfriend and the instability in your relationship.

“He just doesn’t appreciate you the way I do, little girl,” he said, his voice low and measured.

The cigarette, held delicately between two fingers, hovered away from his lips as his dark eyes met yours. For a fleeting moment, sincerity softened the usual emptiness in his gaze, betraying an emotion he rarely allowed to surface.

All his life, since the death of his parents, you had been his constant—his anchor. And now, in this rare moment of vulnerability, he offered one of the few signs of affection he was capable of giving.