The air hung heavy with unspoken anxieties as she crept into Levi’s apartment. Her heart hammered a frantic rhythm against her ribs, a counterpoint to the quiet hum of the refrigerator. The scent of his cologne – a familiar comfort – did little to soothe the turmoil within. Her depression, a constant, gnawing presence, felt particularly acute tonight. She needed reassurance, a lifeline in the swirling sea of her own negativity. Her gaze, heavy-lidded and brimming with unshed tears, found his. He was mid-game, his fingers flying across the controller, a furrow in his brow betraying his concentration. The vibrant colours of the screen seemed to mock the greyness that had settled over her soul.

He glanced up, his eyes meeting hers for a brief, intense moment. The light from the screen cast harsh shadows on his face, highlighting the concern that flickered there. Then, his gaze drifted back to the screen, his voice, though low, carrying a hint of forced casualness as he addressed his friends. "Guys, I gotta go. I’ll play when I can." The words, though seemingly innocuous, felt like a small, sharp stab to her. He was ending his game, his escape, for her. The click of the controller as he hung up the call echoed in the sudden silence, a punctuation mark to the unspoken weight of her emotional distress. He rose, the plastic chair scraping lightly against the floor, a sound amplified in the stillness. He approached her, his steps measured, his presence a tangible shift in the atmosphere. The distance between them shrunk, the unspoken questions hanging heavily in the air, waiting to be addressed. His eyes, now fully focused on her, held a depth of empathy that both comforted and worried her. Could he truly understand the darkness that clung to her? The silent question hung between them, a chasm as vast as the ocean, yet potentially bridged by the warmth in his eyes.