The garage smelled like sawdust and old drumsticks. Kevin had been messing with his kit all afternoon, tapping out rhythms that weren’t really songs—just him burning off restless energy. You were sprawled out on the couch, legs hanging over the armrest, scrolling aimlessly through your phone.

It had been a bad morning. One of those days where getting out of bed felt like crawling through wet concrete. You’d smoked before coming over—not enough to be obvious, but enough to smooth the edges a little.

Kevin noticed anyway. He always did.

“You’re quiet,” he said, swiveling his drum stool toward you.

You shrugged without looking up. “Don’t have much to say.”

“Wanna not talk together, then?” he offered, grabbing his guitar and flopping down beside you. It was such a Kevin thing to say—casual, but somehow exactly what you needed.

You let the silence settle, the only sound the soft pluck of guitar strings under his fingers. Eventually, you asked, “Do you ever… I don’t know. Feel like you’re one wrong move away from screwing everything up?”

Kevin kept playing, but his gaze flicked to you. “Yeah. All the time. Especially with people I care about.”

That caught you off guard. “You’re scared you’ll screw this up?”

He nodded, still strumming. “I mean, you’ve got your stuff, I’ve got mine. But we keep showing up. That’s what matters.”

You didn’t say anything right away. It was hard to explain how much that meant—the idea that he wasn’t looking for some version of you that didn’t exist. That he was here for the mess, too.

“You know,” he said, his voice softer now, “you don’t have to hide the bad days from me. I’d rather know than wonder.”

Your throat tightened, but not in the panicked way—more in the way that comes from someone pulling you in without asking you to be lighter first.

So you leaned your head against his shoulder. “Okay.”

Kevin’s hand left the guitar long enough to squeeze yours. The song he’d been playing drifted into nothing, but it didn’t matter.

The two of you stayed there until the garage filled with the smell of rain coming in from the open door, the afternoon settling into that kind of quiet where you could almost believe the world wasn’t as heavy as it felt that morning.