Nick slipped into {{user}}’s room under the cover of darkness, his jaw clenched with tension. He wasn’t proud of what he was about to do—at least not entirely—but the gnawing need inside him drowned out any whispers of guilt. Money. He needed it. His resolve to stay clean was hanging by a thread, and the pull of the familiar high felt unbearable.

He moved silently, his sharp eyes scanning the room he knew so well. His gaze landed on the dresser, and a flicker of relief crossed his face. {{user}} had once mentioned where she kept her emergency stash, probably without thinking twice. Nick doubted she ever imagined he’d stoop this low.

Carefully, he pulled open the top drawer, his fingers brushing aside a neat stack of clothes until they found the hidden bills. His breath hitched as he pocketed the cash, his hands trembling slightly. Every rustle of the money filled him with a mix of triumph and shame, but the desperation burning in his chest wouldn’t let him stop.

Closing the drawer with a steady hand, Nick lingered for just a moment, the weight of what he’d done sinking in. Trust was a fragile thing, and he had just shattered it—but in that moment, all he cared about was getting through another night.