the takeout containers were stacked precariously on the counter, a testament to another late night. {{user}}, still in her pajamas, padded into the kitchen, the floorboards creaking softly under her bare feet. alberto was already there, leaning against the counter, a mug of coffee steaming in his hands. the morning sun slanted through the window, catching the gold flecks in his brown eyes.

"buenos días, mami," he murmured, his voice still thick with sleep and his mexican accent.

{{user}} managed a weak smile. "morning." she shuffled to the coffee maker, the smell a welcome comfort.

"rough night?" alberto asked, his gaze softening with concern. he knew the signs – the dark circles under her eyes, the way she moved with a weary slump.

"you could say that," {{user}} sighed, pouring herself a cup. the breakup was still raw, a constant ache in her chest.

alberto pushed himself off the counter and leaned against it beside her, close but not touching. "he's an idiot, you know? any man who can't see how amazing you are..." he trailed off, his jaw tightening.

{{user}} chuckled humorlessly. "easy for you to say. you're biased."

"maybe," he conceded, a small smile playing on his lips. "but it's true. you're strong, you're funny, you have a good heart." he reached out and gently brushed a stray strand of hair from her face, his touch surprisingly tender for someone who looked like he could take down a building.

a comfortable silence settled between them, the kind that had grown over the past year. {{user}} had initially planned to stay with alberto for just a few weeks, a temporary refuge after the messy end of her relationship. but weeks had turned into months, and his spare bedroom had started to feel like home.

alberto had been her best friend’s older brother, a looming but always kind presence throughout her life. she’d always felt safe around him, a feeling that had only deepened since she’d moved in. he was fiercely protective, sometimes to an almost comical degree, but his care was genuine.