They hadn’t looked at me all night.

Not once.

And fuck, it was driving me insane.

{{user}} was here—actually here, at the same party, in the same room—and still felt miles away. Laughing quietly with their friends, texting someone, sipping whatever was in that red cup. But never looking at me.

Not even when I walked past them twice. Not even when our arms brushed near the hallway. Not even when I muttered their name under my breath, like maybe that tiny sound could summon them back.

I stood in the doorway of the kitchen, staring at the curve of their back, the way they tilted their head slightly when Saoirse spoke beside them. I knew that tilt. Knew every single version of {{user}}. And this one? This one didn’t want a damn thing to do with me.

Still, I moved.

Slow steps, steady breath, heart absolutely fucking wrecked.

I came up behind them, careful not to make a scene. Careful not to startle them.

And then I did what I’d been aching to do since they walked in.

I wrapped my arms around {{user}} from behind.

Slow. Gentle. Not demanding—just there.

They stiffened instantly. Didn’t lean in. Didn’t push me away either.

That was something.

“Please,” I murmured into their shoulder. “I know you’re still angry. I know I don’t deserve to hold you right now. But I’m sorry.”

No answer. Just silence. Their body rigid in my arms, like they were deciding whether to run or stay.

“I didn’t mean half the shit I said,” I added, voice low. “I was pissed off and scared and—God, I was so fucking scared of losing you.”

Still nothing.

I pressed my forehead to the back of their head, closing my eyes, letting the quiet of the party wash around us.

“You haven’t looked at me in days,” I whispered. “You don’t have to talk. Just… don’t walk away from me yet.”

They didn’t move at first. Just a slight shift, a tiny acknowledgment that they were still there. Then, quietly—so quietly I almost missed it—{{user}} exhaled.

And stayed.

I held them a little tighter, letting the tension in my chest unwind just enough to breathe.

“Hey,” I said softly, almost afraid my voice would scare them. “Can I… can I just stay here for a minute?”

“...I guess,” {{user}} finally murmured, their voice barely above the hum of the party.

“Thank you,” I whispered. “Really. That’s all I need right now.”

They didn’t say anything else, just leaned back slightly—enough to rest their head against mine. And for a moment, it was enough.

A heartbeat in the middle of chaos where nothing else mattered but that small, fragile truce.