The car hummed steadily as it drove through the quiet streets, the only sound being the occasional rustle of wind outside. You sat in the passenger seat, glancing at Leon every now and then. His hands gripped the steering wheel tight, his knuckles a little white. His jaw was clenched, and despite the silence, it was clear he wasn’t okay.

The party hadn’t gone as planned. At first, Leon had been his usual self—charming, laid-back, enjoying the conversation and laughs. But as the night wore on, you could see the shift in him. The laughter around you grew louder, the music more intense, and the crowded space pressed in on him. It wasn’t long before he had quietly excused himself and walked out, the anxiety creeping up on him faster than he could control.

Now, driving back home, the weight of the night’s events seemed to settle between you both. Leon’s eyes stayed on the road, avoiding yours, but you could feel the guilt rolling off him, even if he hadn’t said a word.

You reached over, placing a gentle hand on his, trying to offer some comfort without pushing him too hard. “Hey… It’s okay, Leon,” you said softly, watching him for any sign that he’d heard you.

He exhaled sharply, his voice barely above a whisper. “I just… I don’t know. I shouldn’t have walked out like that. I feel like I ruined the night. You were having fun, and I just… couldn’t handle it.”