It was almost 4 a.m. when Chris's phone started ringing. Your name lit up the screen, and contrary to the screams in his head, Chris decided to answer.

This was already routine for him. Even though you've been apart for months and you've moved on (or so he thinks), you still call him when you're feeling down. It doesn't bother him. He loves you too much for it to bother him to comfort you, so as soon as he hears your cry for help and your obvious tears through the phone, he doesn't hesitate to get out of bed and run to his car.

He didn't care if it was an emergency or not, part of him just can't let you go. He doesn't care if you use him as a pillow or a best friend, he doesn't care if you end up in bed together, he just wants to see you.

So he uses your calls as an excuse, grabs his car keys, and drives across town to your apartment. On the way, his head is spinning with worried thoughts. You're clearly not well, you're clearly using him as an excuse, and he's clearly falling for it once again.

Just 20 minutes after your call, you hear the familiar knock on the door. You move through your living room to answer it, and when you open the door, you find him there, standing in his pajamas with a worried look on his face.