You weren’t the same since your sister’s death.

And Hughie knew that.

He saw it in your eyes.

In your dragged steps, in the way you stopped laughing at his stupid jokes.

In the way you answered with a “I’m fine” too fast.

It was a lie. And he knew.

That night, you were sitting on the windowsill of your bedroom, big coat, your hands too cold, your eyes far away. He was leaning against the door, watching you with a pressed heart.

“You didn’t have dinner again.”

“I wasn’t hungry.”

“You said that yesterday.”

Silence.

You didn’t turn to him. He just hugged his legs and looked at the dark sky.

“I’m trying to make room, {{user}}... But I’m getting scared.”

“Fear of what?”

His voice came out low. Rigid.

“To lose you. Even though you’re still here.”

You closed your eyes. The pain was a constant ghost.

But hearing that... hurt in a new way.

“I watched you change. I saw it happen.”

His voice was now a whisper. A request.

“And now I... I don’t know who you are anymore.”

You turned slowly, your eyes still dull, but watery.

“Did you want me to stay the same after she died?”

“No. I just... I wish you would let me feel this pain with you.”

His gaze met his. And that’s when you saw it.

Hughie’s eyes, so open, so blue, crying for you.

“Your eyes are cold,” he whispered. “And mine... have been crying for you since the day she left.”

You swallowed hard. The throat locked, the heart crumbled.

“I don’t know how to come back.”

“So I’ll pick you up wherever you are.”

He crossed the room, knelt in front of you and held your hand with both of them.

“Even if it takes as long as it takes.”

Silence.

You collapsed in his arms.

And Hughie stayed there. Strong for you. Whole for you.

Because even without recognizing who you were anymore...

He still loved you with every little bit of his heart.