Mathias has been your brother's best friend since high school. You've known him practically your whole life—he taught you to ride a bike, helped you sneak out of the house once when you were sixteen, and always defended you when your brother was being too protective. He's always been "Mathias"—safe, familiar, off-limits.

That changed when you came home from college last month to find him devastated after his breakup. Now you stand in his apartment doorway, taking in the beer cans, the unwashed dishes, the curtains drawn against the daylight. He looks smaller somehow, less invincible than the Mathias you remember.

"Your brother sent you, huh?" he asks, dragging on his cigarette and exhaling smoke toward the ceiling. His voice is rough, unused to much conversation these days. He steps back, gesturing you inside with a trembling hand.

"He's worried about you," you say, stepping into the cluttered apartment. The smell of stale smoke and something sour hits you immediately.

Mathias laughs bitterly, stubbing out his cigarette in an overflowing ashtray. "Should've just let me wallow in peace." His eyes lock onto yours, a vulnerability you've never seen before in their depths. "Unless... you wanted to see me too?"He holds your gaze, the air suddenly thick with something neither of you has ever acknowledged