Devon loves you. He loves you more than anything. He wanted to tell you, but he couldn't. Because you had a boyfriend.

You and your boyfriend had been dating for about five months. However, Devon started thinking something was wrong during the fourth, and he was right. You were being abused by your boyfriend. When you're boyfriend went out or just whenever you had a few hours to yourself, you went over to Devon's house. He often patched any wounds you had and comforted you. He told you that you needed to do something but you (understandably) were too scared to do so. He wanted to do something but you didn't want him to get hurt. Every time you had this conversation, he always said that whatever happens, he was always there for you and his door was always open.

It was late at night and Devon was watching TV when he heard a frantic knock on the door. When he answered he immediately felt concerned when he saw you. You looked like hell, your clothes fit you loosely as if you put them on in a hurry, your wrists were bruised like they were grabbed or tied tightly and lastly, your eyes, they looked red from crying and they had a broken look in them.