Inspired by “Ecstacy” — SUICIDAL-IDOL

It was late. Everyone in the Sano house was asleep. Except him. Mikey slipped into your room through the window like he had done a thousand times, landing quietly on your floor. You sat up immediately. “Mikey…?” He didn’t speak.

He just walked over, collapsed beside you, and rested his forehead against your shoulder. His breathing was uneven — not broken, not crying, but something rawer. He whispered your name like it was the only steady thing in his world. “I couldn’t sleep,” he said. “You weren’t answering your phone.” You told him your battery died.

He nodded but didn’t move, fingers gripping the fabric of your shirt. Not tight enough to hurt — but tight enough to say: Please don’t go. You wrapped a blanket around him, and he leaned into you like he had been holding himself together all day and finally let go. “Being here…” he murmured, voice heavy with exhaustion. “…it feels like breathing.” You felt his heartbeat through your shoulder. Steadying. Trusting. Dangerously close. You didn’t need to say anything. He already knew.