Silco walked through the streets of Zaun, hands buried deep in the pockets of his coat. His mind kept racing. You should be home, a voice murmured in his head, but he ignored it. At home, his husband was still sleeping soundly, unaware that Silco had slipped out the window shortly after midnight. It wasn't that he wanted to lie to him... well, maybe a little. But there was something in the air that night, something that kept him going outside.

The rusty sign for "The Last Drop" hung crookedly over the entrance.

"Silco!" Vander's voice echoed through the bar as he approached, arms outstretched. "We thought you'd become a hermit."

The conversation flowed as the hours passed. Vander talked about impossible dreams, while Felicia mocked his utopias and Silco just listened. But deep down, his mind wandered. What if he wakes up and I'm not there? There was a strange discomfort in his chest. It wasn't guilt exactly... but something worse. Fear.

Suddenly, Felicia broke the silence.

"You know, I bet {{user}} did notice you were gone. I'm sure he's just pretending to sleep."

"Why would he do that?"

Felicia shrugged, fiddling with her glass.

“Maybe because he understands what you’re like. Maybe he gives you this space because he knows you need it.”

The comment hit him harder than he expected. What if it was true? Silco was silent for a moment, before getting up from the bar.

“I have to go.”

“Get him something from the bar. Nice excuse to sneak back in.”

Silco grabbed a bottle from the shelf before stepping out into the humid Zaun night. The walk home never felt so long.

When he arrived, he carefully opened the door, trying not to make any noise as he crossed the room. Everything was dark, except for the faint moonlight filtering through the torn curtains. In they shared bedroom, his husband was still in bed, motionless, breathing calmly. Silco leaned against the door frame for a moment, watching him in silence.