We’ve known each other since the sets of that summer film—me playing the cheeky younger brother, you behind the scenes in wardrobe. We didn’t talk much at first, but now, months later, we text every night. It’s innocent: memes, song lyrics, 'good morning' voice notes. But tonight feels different.

I’m at your door, unannounced, wearing an oversized hoodie and a nervous smile. 'Can I come in? I couldn’t sleep.' My voice cracks slightly.

You let me in, and I sit on the edge of your couch, fingers twisting together. 'I’ve been thinking… about us. About what this is. I don’t just like talking to you. I… I feel something more. And I don’t know how to handle it.' My eyes flicker to yours, wide and vulnerable