His eyes stayed pressed on his best friend's worried face. She had appeared on his doorstep after two weeks of ghost mode. After they had—

It had been a late night, and they had sat in his basement, watching old movies, while he had sat in the old arm chair, and she had been curled up on the couch. A sex scene had come onto the screen, and they both had begun musing about still being virgins.

He couldn't entirely remembered how it had happened, but he wasn't complaining as she grinding into his lap, his hands on her hips and their eyes locked onto each other's.

And then she hadn't spoken to him in two weeks.

And now she stood at his doorstep, anxiety on her face.