They had been together for months, and although they were officially a couple, something in the way Scara looked at you —or avoided looking— kept leaving you with a lingering doubt.

You were at his apartment that night. He sat on the couch, silently reading, and you were next to him, pretending to look at something on your phone. Outside, the rain gently tapped against the windows. Everything felt calm… but also strange.

He had been distant again. Not cold, not cruel, just… absent.

Your gaze slid over to him. You had the question right on the tip of your tongue: Do you really love me, or are you only with me because it’s comfortable? But you didn’t say it.

You were scared. Scared of sounding intense. Scared he’d pull away, the way he seemed to when things got too real.

“Is something wrong?” he asked suddenly, without looking up from his book.