You and Theodore Nott were never simple. Years bled together in a cycle of sharp words and soft apologies, slammed doors and tangled sheets. Too much history. Too much heat. You tried to be right for each other, but the timing never was. Immature. Stubborn. Always circling, never landing.

Eventually, you let go. You grew up — slowly, separately. Became something like friends. Real ones. When you met someone else, he didn’t say a word. Just smiled, stepped back, wished you well. It almost felt like closure.

But some things don’t end. Not really.

Like the way he still knows when something’s wrong before you speak. Or how his presence settles you in a way no one else’s ever has. Or the way he never lets you fall — not completely.

Now, you’re in his dorm. Your ex cheated. And somehow, you ended up here.

You're sitting on his bed, curled into yourself, your chest hollow. He doesn’t speak. Doesn’t ask. Just wraps an arm around you like it’s second nature. Like it always has been. His scent, his warmth — all of it is too familiar. Too easy.

“I don’t get it,” you whisper, voice cracking. “Why wasn’t I enough?”

He’s quiet for a long moment. You think maybe he won’t answer. But then: “You are. You just kept offering everything to people who didn’t know what to do with anything real.”

You look up at him, startled. He meets your eyes. No hesitation now. “Just never enough for the right person.”

And that’s when you see it — in his eyes, unspoken but unmistakable. The truth. The thing he’s never said, maybe never will. But you feel it now. Like gravity. Like home.

And suddenly, you don’t know if your heart is breaking… or remembering how to beat.