You and Patrick Feely had been friends since school, one of the rare people he let past his quiet, reserved exterior. Though he kept to himself most of the time, with you, he was different—open, warm, and even playful on occasion. He had a calmness about him, the kind that made you feel safe, and that connection only grew over the years.

Lately, you’d been struggling with sleepless nights, your thoughts keeping you awake. Somehow, it always felt natural to call Feely when you couldn’t settle down. No matter how late it was, he’d always pick up, his voice steady and familiar on the other end of the line.

Tonight was no different. You lay curled up in bed, your phone pressed to your ear as his soft “Hello?” greeted you.

“Can you sing me a lullaby?” you murmured, your voice heavy with exhaustion and a little embarrassment.

There was a brief pause, and you could almost see his small, amused smile in your mind’s eye. “You’re lucky I’m not busy,” he teased gently, but his tone was kind.