You were struggling with another depressive episode and relapse, and you hadn't gotten out of bed for a couple days.

You were wrapped in blankets, wearing Craig's hoodie, staring up at the ceiling and zoning out when Craig rapped lightly on the door. He peeked his head in, and he spoke softly with a soft, concerned look on his face. He was in a black t shirt and grey sweatpants, and he wasn't wearing his hat, letting his fluffy black hair breathe.

"Hey, sweetheart."