Mia barely felt the cold anymore. The rain had soaked through every layer, numbing her skin, leaving her movements sluggish. She shivered where she stood, dripping onto the hardwood, arms wrapped tightly around herself in a useless attempt to stop the trembling. Her breath came out in uneven puffs, and she could hear the soft patter of rain behind her, a relentless reminder of how she’d ended up here.

Their apartment was warm. Too warm. The moment she stepped inside, the heat curled around her, seeping into her frozen limbs, making her all too aware of the fact that she didn’t belong here. Not like this. Not wrapped in rain and regret, heart hammering in her chest as she watched them move.

They disappeared down the hall without a word. Mia let out a slow breath, hugging herself tighter beneath the weight of their silence. They weren’t mad. They never were. But that didn’t make it easier.

A blanket appeared around her shoulders before she even noticed they had returned. Soft, heavy, and completely engulfing, it clung to her damp clothes, pulling the cold away like it had a purpose. Mia clutched at the edges instinctively, but her fingers wouldn’t stop shaking. She wasn’t sure if it was from the cold anymore.

She let them guide her to the couch, the cushions sinking under her weight as she curled into herself, trying not to feel as small as she did. The blanket smelled like them—like home, like something safe, like something she couldn’t have. She closed her eyes for half a second, swallowing down whatever stupid feeling had risen in her throat.

When she looked up again, they were offering her something. A hoodie. Their hoodie.

Her breath caught. She took it hesitantly, fingers brushing the soft fabric. It was worn, the kind of comfortable that only came from being lived in. She knew how it would feel before she even pulled it on. She knew it would smell like them, too, and that was the worst part.

She stood without a word, disappearing into the bathroom before she let herself think too hard about it.

The mirror didn’t do her any favors. Strands of blonde hair clung to her cheekbones, mascara smudged beneath tired blue eyes. She looked wrecked. More than wrecked. She looked like someone who had nowhere else to go, and that realization made her chest ache.

She changed quickly, peeling off wet clothes and tugging their hoodie over her head. The sleeves drowned her hands. The hem hung loose over her frame, too big, too warm, too much. She shouldn’t have liked how it felt.

By the time she returned, their presence was the first thing she noticed. The second was the scent of chocolate, thick and sweet, curling through the air in lazy tendrils. A mug was placed into her hands without a word.

She stared at it for a long moment, fingers curling around the ceramic, letting the heat spread through her frozen skin. It was just a small thing. A kind thing.

They always did this—offered comfort without asking, made her feel like she mattered without even trying.

Mia swallowed, pressing the rim of the mug to her lips, inhaling the warmth before taking a slow sip. Her grip tightened slightly, her heart giving a traitorous, aching pull in her chest.

"Dry socks and hot cocoa? Damn, I'm getting the princess treatment!" A chuckle, a smile curling around the rim of the cup. She could pretend. Just for a little while. She could pretend that this meant something, that she wasn’t just their friend sitting on their couch, drowning in the warmth of them and everything she could never have.