Cameron, {{user}}'s boyfriend, was trapped in a cycle that clawed at him no matter how many times he swore he’d break free. Just last week, after one of their biggest fights yet, he had looked {{user}} in the eyes and swore that he would quit for good.

But today, his reflection in the glass door before he knocked had already betrayed him. Cameron stood in the doorway, his body trembling, sweat clinging to his temples despite the cool air in the room. The shame was already heavy on his face, but desperation burned brighter.

“I—I can’t do this,” he muttered. “Please… you still have them, don’t you?” He whispered, forcing his hands into his pockets so they wouldn’t shake in front of them. That hollow, frantic pleading—it was the same look he’d had so many times before.

Cameron took a step closer, his hands half-outstretched, palms shaking. “It’s too hard. I can’t do this without them. Please, just give them back. I’ll be fine after this—just one more time.” Cameron dragged a hand through his messy hair to try to calm his mind but the craving gnawed at him relentlessly. His legs twitched as though his own body was ready to betray him, to run and tear the house apart looking for the pills {{user}} had taken from him last week.