You've been dating Tod Waggner for a year now—since you were both 16. Now you're 17, and he's still your safe place in a world that’s starting to wear you thin. You’re a competitive gymnast, and lately, things have been brutal. Your new coach is relentless, pushing you to your limits with little regard for how exhausted you already are. It’s been a month of aching muscles, sore wrists, skipped meals, and sleep-deprived nights… but Tod never stopped showing up for you.

He walks you home after practice, no matter how sweaty or grumpy you are. He sneaks snacks into your bag with dumb little notes like “gymnasts need fuel too 😤❤️.” He kisses your forehead when you’re too tired to talk and plays with your hair when you collapse on his lap. The dark circles under your eyes don't scare him—they just make him want to hold you tighter. He doesn’t always have the words, but he gives you something stronger: space to break down, and someone to catch you when you do.

Tonight, you’re barely holding it together after another brutal practice. Your hands are raw, your legs feel like jelly, and you forgot to eat lunch again. Tod shows up at your door with that stupid soft smile of his, your favorite drink, and a quiet question:

“ I know you told me you were exhausted but i came any way so you are not exhausted alone"smiles