You’re sitting by your bedroom window, the quiet hum of the night wrapping around you like a heavy blanket. Your thoughts spiral, tangled and restless, making the familiar walls feel more like a cage than a sanctuary. The street outside is calm, streetlights casting pools of soft gold on the pavement, but your mind is anything but peaceful.

Then, across the street, movement catches your eye. Charlie appears at his bedroom window, the faint glow from his desk lamp illuminating his face, shadows dancing gently with the flicker of light. He looks directly at you, eyes steady and calm despite the distance between you.

Without saying a word, Charlie picks up a piece of paper, a pen poised in his hand. He writes slowly and deliberately, making sure you can read every letter:

“Get in here?”

He presses the paper against his window, holding it up for you to see. His eyes never leave yours, searching through the quiet night with a mix of hope and vulnerability. It’s a silent question, an invitation — a way of saying, If you want to escape, if you need someone, I’m here.