I was reaching for my headphones, needing the music to blot out the throbbing in my ears, when the knock came.

Three soft taps. I froze. Then a second knock—louder this time, urgent. My chest tightened. My feet moved before my brain could process the fear, carrying me across the room and to the door.

{{user}} stood there.

Their eyes were red and glassy, their lower lip trembling like they were holding back a scream. Their tie was loose, the sleeves of their white shirt rolled up, exposing shaky hands. Their whole body looked like it was about to collapse.

I blinked, the sound of the music fading completely. “{{user}}?”

They didn’t say anything. Just launched forward, a desperate, silent plea in their movements. I barely had time to react before they were crashing into me, arms wrapping around my waist, fingers digging into the back of my hoodie like they were afraid I’d disappear. Their body was shaking, their breathing ragged and uneven.

“Hey, hey…” I whispered, my arms wrapping around them tightly, holding them close. The scent of their perfume, usually so comforting, now carried the sharp tang of fear. "What happened?"

Their body trembled against mine, a silent storm raging within. The unspoken question hung heavy in the air between us, a question I knew, in my heart, the answer to. But I waited, letting them find the strength to speak, to unravel the reason they had come to me, broken and seeking solace in the quiet space of my room.