you said you weren't feeling well.
i knew it from the way your voice cracked,
but fuck—
you still came.
still smiled,
still let me talk about pointless shit
like the world didn't already owe you peace.
you didn't drink.
but i did.
too much.
enough to forget that i had a girlfriend,
but not enough to forget you.
you sat so close
i could hear your breath
more than the music.
and fuck,
when your head dropped to your shoulder,
when you slept—
god, i've never wanted to be someone's safe place
as much as i did in that second.
i pushed the guys away.
sat beside you like i belonged there.
and maybe,
for three fucking seconds,
i let myself believe that i did.
i held you.
soft.
barely a touch.
but it burned me.
you didn't wake up.
you didn't know.
but that night fucked me up.
more than any fight i ever had with Iris.
more than any kiss that meant nothing.
you were just there.
warm.
breathing.
gentle.
real.
and i hated myself
for wanting you so goddamn much.