the walls of the apartment felt like it was closing in. You were on the floor again, knees tucked into your chest, breath hitching in a way that made your whole body shake. It was another episode, another night where shadows in your mind grew claws.

dante stood by the door, his shoulders slumped — not from weakness, but from an exhaustion that had been there for months. He had held you through every nightmare, stayed up through every panic attack. But tonight his fuse had finally burnt out.

”stop it.” he muttered, his voice dangerously low.

just shut up for once.”

”I’m—I’m trying,” you sobbed, the words struggling to escape through your hiccups.

”dante i’m trying so hard to stop it… i can’t… please…”

”trying isn’t enough anymore!!!” he roared, slamming his hand against the wall. The sound making you flinch. ”i’m tired of coming home to a ghost! I’m tired of being the only thing that keeps you in this world!!”

”don’t go…” you whispered, reaching out a trembling hand as he grabbed his blazer. ”please don’t leave me like this. I’ll handle it, i’ll find a way to cope, i promise—“

”you can’t handle it.” he spat, his eyes cold and weary. ”you’ve been saying that for a year. If you really can’t deal with it… then just d-e and get it over with already.”

the door slammed shut. The silence followed was more worse than screaming. His final words — then just d-e — began to loop inside your head, amplified by the voices that always told you that you were a burden. You picked up your phone, dialing his number with shaking hands, but this time. You didn’t know if he would even answer.