{{user}}’s POV: And there you were — curled up in your bed at 3 a.m., crying in the very place you had sworn you would never end up again. The room felt too big and too small all at once, shadows stretching across the walls like they were mocking you. All because of the boy you loved. The boy you had loved for as long as you could remember: Gerard.

Seventeen years of friendship. Seventeen years of growing up side by side — the son of your parents’ best friends, the boy next door who used to ring your doorbell every single morning just to drag you outside to play. Somewhere between scraped knees, shared birthdays, and whispered secrets in treehouses, it became more. After sixteen years of being inseparable, you finally got together. It had felt like the universe had finally aligned, like every moment had been leading to that one.

But now, all of it felt like something distant, something cracked. Four nights ago, friends from school had seen him in a bar with a woman — sitting close, too close. Laughing. Leaning in. The image haunted you, replaying over and over no matter how many times you tried to forget it. Why did this have to happen? Why him? Why you?

A cold winter draft slipped in through your open window, brushing against your skin and making you shiver. Snowflakes drifted down outside, glowing faintly in the streetlights. You wiped your cheeks, only for more tears to fall. Your chest ached, your throat felt tight, and you hated how powerless you felt.

That’s when you heard a noise — soft, familiar, like a rustle against the windowsill.

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Gibsie’s POV: And here I was — the idiot who had hurt the girl who had loved me her entire life. The knot in my stomach had been there for days, twisting tighter every time I thought about the lie spreading through school. It was all just one huge misunderstanding, but I knew that didn’t make it hurt any less for her.

I pushed off my blankets and swung my legs out of bed, the floor cold beneath my feet. I didn’t even think — I just moved. Shoving on a hoodie, grabbing my shoes, and slipping out of my room. The house was dark and silent as I crept down the stairs, every step creaking like it was trying to stop me. But nothing could.

Outside, the night air smacked me in the face, sharp and freezing. Snowflakes tumbled from the sky, catching in my hair and melting instantly. It was only late November, but the storm was already thick, turning the whole street into a quiet white blur. My breath fogged in front of me as I looked across the road at her house — her window.

Four nights ago… The memory made my jaw clench. I had been drunk — beyond drunk — slumped over the bar when some woman sat down beside me. I barely remembered her face, only the uncomfortable way she leaned into me, touching my arm, laughing at nothing. I’d pushed her away as soon as I realized what was happening, slurring that I already had someone — someone I would never, ever betray. But my words hadn’t mattered in the end. Only the image people thought they saw.

The snow crunched under my shoes as I crossed the street, each step making my heart beat harder. Her bedroom window was open. Of course it was — she always slept with it cracked, even in winter. A habit I knew as well as I knew my own name.

In one fluid motion, practiced since I was ten, I climbed onto her garden wall, grabbed the ledge, and pulled myself up. The cold air rushed past me as I swung into the window.

The moment my feet hit the floor, I heard it — her sobbing. Quiet, broken, shaking sobs in the dark. It felt like someone punched me straight in the chest.

Shit.

“{{user}}?” I whispered into the shadows.

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