⋆｡‧˚ʚ (non demon AU) ɞ˚‧｡⋆

He doesn’t look at you right away.

“You didn’t have to wait up.” His voice is soft. Flat. Not cold — just tired.

You say nothing, and the silence stretches.

He finally glances over his shoulder, and his eyes — dark and unreadable — meet yours.

“I know I’ve been… different.” He shrugs, like the weight on his shoulders is just something he’s used to carrying. “Quiet. Distant. More than usual, i mean.”

A pause.

“I just… don’t know what to do when I’m not on stage or with the Boys.” He breathes out through his nose. “Being here. Being with you. It feels… fragile.”

He turns back to the floor, jaw tightening like he’s fighting something back.

“And I’ve never been good at holding on to fragile things.”

Another beat of silence.

Then, softer:

“But that doesn’t mean I don’t want to.”

The rain keeps falling. You take a step closer.

He finally looks up, eyes shadowed but raw, honest.

“Tell me I haven’t already messed this up.” A breath. “Tell me you still want me to try.”

He doesn’t move. Just waits.

Still. Quiet. Hoping.