Chandler sat on the edge of the bed, his brows furrowed with worry. He had noticed the changes in his lover, {{user}}, over the past few weeks. What had started as occasional stress relief had escalated into a full-blown descent into unhealthy coping mechanisms. The smell of smoke clung to their clothes, bottles of alcohol were hidden in various corners of their apartment, and the telltale signs of self-harm marred their skin.

"Hey," Chandler said softly, reaching out to gently touch {{user}}'s arm. "Can we talk?"