You hear the knock, soft like he almost didn’t want you to hear it.

When you open the door, Clark’s standing there in the porch light, hood pulled halfway up like it could hide him, hands stuffed in his jacket pockets, shoulders hunched against the cold. Or maybe the nerves.

“Hey..” he says quietly. He doesn’t meet your eyes at first.

You step aside, and he walks in like he’s not sure if he’s allowed to.

“I, um…” He stops in the middle of your living room, turning something over in his hands. A small box of your favorite snacks. From that store you once mentioned in passing. “I saw these and thought of you. Figured I’d bring some by. Stupid, I know.”

You smile, but his eyes are already dropping again.

“Sorry. I shouldn’t have come. I just… I don’t know. You’ve been busy. Haven’t really seen you around. I thought maybe…”

He trails off.

You fold your arms. “You thought what?”

Clark’s shoulders rise, then fall, like it hurts to say the words. “That maybe I did something wrong. Or maybe Jason said something. I know I’m not exactly easy to deal with sometimes, and I know I don’t always say the right thing but—”He swallows.“I don’t want to lose you. Not even just as a friend.”

You blink, stunned by the quiet desperation in his voice. But Clark keeps going, eyes shining now.

“I get it, okay? I do. You chose him. And he makes you smile and I know he’s probably better at saying all the right things. I just…” His voice cracks. “I don’t want you to stop needing me.”

That’s what he’s really afraid of.

Not Jason. Not even heartbreak. Abandonment.

You step closer, and he looks up finally—like a kicked puppy who still hopes you’ll come back.

“I know it’s selfish” he whispers, “but I still wait for your texts. I still look for you. And I still… I still love you.”

His voice is so soft, it barely carries.

“But if you’re happy with him, I’ll disappear. I will. Just—don’t make me go before I have to.”