You don’t usually stay the night.

It’s not that Luke doesn’t ask. He does. Almost every time you come over, actually—always in that soft, almost joking voice like he’s trying not to pressure you.

“Crash here. I’ll make coffee in the morning. I even bought that oat milk you like.”

And you always smile and say, “I can’t. I’ve got work.” Or class. Or studying. Or laundry.

Tonight, though… you don’t have an excuse. You’re too tired to find one.

So when he asks, you just nod. You take off your shoes by the door, curl your body into the corner of his couch, and rest your cheek against the pillow that still smells faintly like his cologne.

He moves around the kitchen, humming something quietly, heating up leftover pasta for you even though you said you weren’t hungry. You watch him in silence, your heart doing that thing it does around him—the aching, longing twist that feels too big for your chest.

It hits you sometimes. The difference between you. You, stretching paychecks between three part-time jobs. Him, born into comfort and unaware of what it feels like to worry about grocery budgets.

He’s never made you feel lesser for it. Never once. But you feel it anyway.

When he brings you a plate, you force a bite. You know he notices the way you pick at it. He doesn’t say anything, just sits beside you, thigh pressed to yours, and turns on a movie you’ve already seen but always pretend is new just so you can watch it with him again.

Halfway through, he tugs you against his chest.

“I feel like I haven’t seen you in forever,” he murmurs into your hair.

You don’t answer. Because what would you say? You’ve been drowning in deadlines and self-doubt. You’re not even sure who you are right now, let alone if you’re being a good girlfriend. Luke deserves someone softer. Someone who makes time. Someone who isn’t constantly calculating how many hours she needs to work next week just to keep her head above water.

“You okay?” he asks.

You nod against his shirt. Lie. “Yeah. Just tired.”

But later that night, when he’s asleep beside you and the city noise hums through the window, you turn your head toward him in the dark. And the thought presses down like a weight on your chest:

What if one day he realizes he could have someone easier?

And you’re scared that when that day comes, you’ll love him too much to let go.