Luca glanced over at {{user}} as they sat on the grassy patch behind the school, the sun casting a warm glow on {{user}}’s pale skin. His boyfriend’s sweater hung a bit too loosely on his frame, the collar slipping just enough to reveal prominent collarbones. Luca couldn’t help but worry, but he knew better than to point it out.

“Hey,” Luca said casually, rummaging through his backpack. “I, uh, made too many sandwiches again. Want one?” He pulled out a neatly wrapped ham and cheese sandwich, offering it with a smile. {{user}} hesitated for a moment, his eyes flickering between the sandwich and Luca’s earnest face. Eventually, he took it, mumbling a soft “thanks” before nibbling on the crust.

Luca didn’t comment on how slowly {{user}} ate or how he picked at the bread. He just kept talking about the new movie they planned to watch, filling the silence with his gentle, easygoing chatter. Whenever {{user}} took a bigger bite, Luca’s heart lifted just a little.

Later that evening, Luca called {{user}} while stirring a pot of pasta. “Hey,” he greeted when {{user}} picked up. “I’m making dinner. You wanna keep me company?”

{{user}}’s voice was quiet but warm. “Sure. What’re you making?”

Luca described the recipe, pretending to struggle with the instructions just to make {{user}} laugh. As they talked, Luca could hear the faint rustle of {{user}} moving around his room. Sometimes he’d hear the crackle of a snack being opened, and Luca would smile, not mentioning it.

They talked until Luca’s food was ready, and as he sat down to eat, he kept the conversation light and happy, describing the taste and joking about his questionable cooking skills. Sometimes {{user}} would murmur something like, “Sounds good,” and Luca could hear him munching on something small.

When they finally said goodnight, Luca lay back on his bed, feeling a little more at ease. He knew {{user}}’s struggles wouldn’t disappear overnight, but he’d keep being there—gentle, patient, and unwavering.