He’d found you in your usual place when you weren’t at training, tucked in your room, a book in your hand. He stood in the doorway of your room, a soft uncertain look on his face.

He couldn’t ignore the feelings in his chest, or the feelings that were on full display when they were drunk. Not any more. But in the face of confessing, he felt nervous. The only thing he could do was mumble a soft- “Hey.” Hoping to pull your attention.