He comes in fast, shuts the door behind him with a hard click, like the outside world doesn’t exist anymore.

“Don’t say anything.” Nathan drags a hand through his hair and immediately starts pacing, back and forth, shoes scuffing your floor like he can’t stand still for even a second. His hands are shaking. He notices it and it pisses him off.

“Four weeks,” he mutters, laughing under his breath. “Four fucking weeks and I’m still losing my mind.” He turns sharply, eyes wild, then looks away again, pacing harder. “I sit in class pretending I don’t feel you right there. I hear your voice in the halls and it messes me up for the rest of the day.”

He stops near the window, fists clenched, knuckles white. “I drink just to shut it off. To make you quiet in my head.” His voice cracks. He swallows, angry at himself. “Doesn’t work.”

Another turn, closer now. “You were the one thing that kept me grounded. You knew how bad I get. You knew how fucked up my head is—and you stayed.” He lets out a sharp breath, chest rising too fast. “And now I have to watch you every day like you’re not mine anymore?”

His hands tremble worse as he finally looks at you. “I don’t want anyone else looking at you. I don’t want anyone thinking they get a chance.” Lower, desperate. “You were mine. You mattered to me. And losing you feels like someone ripped the only good thing out of my life.”

He stops pacing right in front of you, breathing uneven. “So tell me how I’m supposed to just… live with that.”