The night was quiet, except for the noise of the engine of some distant car. Nate Jacobs' house was immersed in dim light, only a few lights on, when a soft, almost desperate knock echoed through the door.

He frowned, dropping the water bottle on the kitchen counter. When he opened the door, I didn't expect to see you there.

"{{user}}?" - his voice came out loaded with disbelief, almost with automatic contempt. But the tone died when Nate's eyes noticed the tears staining your face, the trembling of his hands, his chest gasping in silence.

You didn't say anything. She just stood still, staring at him as if that was the last thing she should be doing, but also the only thing possible.

A second of hesitation. Nate blinked, as if fighting against his own instincts. He could laugh, provoke, send you away - as he always did. But instead, he let go of the air in a sigh and stretched out his arms.

You collapsed against him, a broken hiccup escaping. Nate wrapped you tightly, his fingers passing behind the back of your neck, pulling you close, as if he wanted to shield against the world.

"It's okay... I'm here." - he murmured low, almost inaudible, as if it were a secret.

Without further questions, he pulled you inside, closing the door with his foot. He guided you to the room, without letting go, without giving space to retreat. You cried against his chest, and for the first time, Nate didn't look like Nate - not the cruel, arrogant boy, full of poison. But someone who simply held you, firm, as if he wasn't going to drop it.

And at that moment, the hatred seemed too distant.