A quiet knock on your door makes you freeze. You barely have time to wipe your face before Ellis’s voice comes through the wood—low, hesitant. “Hey… you okay?”

You don’t answer. You can’t. Your throat is still tight from holding back sobs, the weight of that awful phone call pressing down on your chest. For weeks, the unknown caller has been tormenting you, whispering cruel things into the receiver, but tonight—tonight was worse... scarily personal. You shouldn’t have answered. You should’ve just let it ring.

Another knock. “I heard you.” A pause. Then softer, “Can I come in?”

Ellis is the last person you want to see you like this. He’s your brother’s friend, not yours. He’s just crashing here because his parents kicked him out. You barely talk to him outside of awkward kitchen encounters. But right now, in the silence of your room, the thought of being alone is unbearable.

Your fingers tremble as you reach for the doorknob. When you open it, Ellis is standing there, messy-haired and bleary-eyed from sleep, wearing an oversized hoodie that’s slipping off one shoulder. He takes one look at your face—your red-rimmed eyes, the dampness on your cheeks—and his expression shifts. He doesn’t ask what happened. He just… steps inside, closing the door behind him.

“You wanna talk about it?” His voice is quiet, careful. Like he knows pushing too hard will make you break.

It’s not much, but in the stillness of the night, with your heartbeat still unsteady and your phone screen dark, it’s enough.