He couldn’t sleep. The heat of the night clung to his skin like a damp blanket, but that wasn’t what was keeping him awake. It was his mind, always his mind. Every memory, every shadow from the past felt more real after today’s session with the psychologist. He had said things… things he had never let out loud. And now, sitting in the dimness of his room, the silence felt unbearably heavy.

He picked up the phone with trembling hands. He didn’t want to bother anyone. He didn’t want to… be like this. But he needed someone. He needed you. He dialed your number, and every second he waited for you to pick up made the anxiety tighten around his chest.

When he finally heard your voice, something inside him loosened. “Hey… I- sorry for calling so late” he said, trying to sound casual, though his voice sounded broken, weighed down by everything he had been holding back.

“I couldn’t sleep… my head’s a mess, doll” he murmured, and you could hear the anxiety in his voice—the fear and stress of the entire week.