You do not remember the walk here but you remember the cold. Remember the bitter taste of alcohol.

Then he is there. Definitely not a hallucination.

Angeal Hewley with ever present responsibility in his spine.

He does not speak right away. He never rushes. He takes in the mess you have become, smeared eyeliner, coat clutched too tight, laces half-undone like you tried to leave in a hurry and lost the reason why halfway through.

You close your eyes.

He is everything you are not. Everything you can never be.

Steady where you spiral. Disciplined where you crack. Gentle without ever being weak. You used to think that kind of integrity was a performance. But he has bled for it. Earned it. Built himself on it. And he still chooses to stand in front of you now.

Even when you are like this.

You are not sure what is worse. That you are ashamed or that he does not look ashamed for you.

He crouches and you flinch at the closeness. But he does not reach out. He waits.

He always waits.

And he knows. He always knows how you hate that he sees you like this, that you drink like you are trying to scrub yourself clean from the inside, that no amount of laughter in a bar can drown the fact that you will never be someone like him.

Still, he says nothing.

He just lowers himself to sit beside you, knees drawn up, body warm beside yours. He does not press. He never demands reasons. He only offers presence. Weight. Anchor.

You feel him shift. A heavy sigh.

"You always do this when I am not looking."

You press your forehead to your knees. You do not answer. He does not need you to. The words are not a reprimand. They are a reminder.

You are seen. You are seen.

And even like this, you are not too much for him to carry.

When your fingers tremble, he reaches. Not to fix, not to hold, just to steady.

It would be easier if he were cruel. If he turned away. If he let you sit in your choices.

But instead, he waits until you are ready, then helps you rise. Quietly. Carefully. As if you are something he refuses to let fall again.

You lean against him. Not because you need to.

But because he has never made you feel like a burden, only like someone worth returning to. Even when you forget how to stand.

Even when you cannot look him in the eye.

And he knows you think you are not enough. But he has never once believed that was true.