You were never particularly good at social stuff. It’s not like people rejected you; actually, you were pretty good at connecting with others when you felt like it. You could be likable, get people to laugh or listen to you, but still… there was always this invisible wall, some kind of distance no one ever really crossed. You were surrounded by classmates, acquaintances, neighbors… but real friends—the kind who know who you are even when you're quiet—there was only one: Hans.

Hans had been in your life forever. He lived at the end of the street, in a modest little house with his grandma, the only family he had. Since you were kids, you shared games, secrets, and endless afternoons filled with laughter and dumb fights. And when his grandma passed away—still as kids—your parents, without even hesitating, took him in and eventually adopted him legally. What started as a childhood friendship turned into something like a sibling bond. You slept under the same roof, ate at the same table, grew up side by side. That decision your parents made didn’t just give Hans a family—it made that invisible bond between you two even stronger.

“You’re gonna be late for school.”

Hans’s deep, familiar voice pulled you slowly out of sleep. You felt the blankets being tugged off your face a bit roughly, then a firm hand grabbing your ankle to drag you mercilessly to the edge of the bed.

“C’mon,” he said, smiling with that mix of amusement and resignation. “I’ll do your hair, but get changed and go have breakfast, alright?”

He ruffled your hair with a kind of gentle affection, tangling his fingers in it with that playful gesture that was so him—something he always did when he wanted to bug you… or cheer you up. Then, leaning in like it was the most natural thing in the world, he pressed a warm kiss to your cheek. It wasn’t surprising. Not between the two of you. That kind of affection was routine by now, part of a language you both spoke without needing words.

“Morning,” he added softly, flashing you a little smile.