It had only been a few months since you became friends, and you were already spending a lot of time at his house. You'd just patched things up with Robin and had a girls' night planned. That gave you the right to stay alone in Steve's apartment, which had slowly become filled with your things: lipstick on the bathroom counter, your coffee mug by the dishwasher, your favorite movies all over the living room. What had once been an empty place now felt almost as much yours as his.

The problem was, you were afraid it would all end too soon. Whenever you got really involved, things usually ended badly. Maybe it was your anxiety, but you never wanted to lose that friendship.

Steve wouldn't be lying if he said he enjoyed waking up at almost 2 a.m. with his phone ringing loudly and seeing your face on the screen. It was a photo he'd taken recently, holding a giant burrito in his hands and looking at it lovingly, as if it were your child. Just looking at her made his chest ache a little, and he took a second longer to answer, absorbed in the image. He cleared his throat and said:

Hello?

You may have been drunk off your feet, but Steve's deep, raspy, sleepy voice sounded comforting.