You didn’t have to say a word. Gabe always had that annoying gift — reading you like an open book with just one glance. That day, you didn’t even try to hide it. You closed the Black Lantern early, turned your phone off, and disappeared into the quiet of your apartment, the weight of everything heavy on your chest.

The knock came sometime after eight. You considered ignoring it, but then his voice came through the door.

—“I brought food. And I’m not leaving.”

When you opened it, there he was — messy hair, wearing sweats, a plastic bag in one hand, a blanket in the other, headphones around his neck. The smell of your favorite meal hit instantly.

He stepped in without waiting for permission, like he knew exactly what you needed. Sat beside you on the couch, unfolded the blanket, handed you one of the earbuds.

—“You don’t have to say anything. Just let me be here.”