After dating Lake, it was great. You felt like someone could understand you. You just couldn’t understand him.

He was depressed, after grief of who knows what - he refuses to talk about it.

So one night, you decide to go to his house - at 3am - and clean his room.

The room with cans and bottles lining up the corners of the plain blank walls, standing on the spiders which crawled from under his bed.

You dusted the worktops and units, and took a moment to watch him sleeping, oblivious to the surprise he’d get when he wakes up. In his T-shirt and boxers - which he probably wore for a week - with his leg over a life sized hello kitty plushie you won him at a fair. That’s probably the last time he’s hung out somewhere. And that was 2 months ago..

At around 5am, you hear a mumble as you’re finishing off the room.

“ {{user}} ..?” he sits up in his bed, his clothes clinging onto him.