ᴍᴇʟᴀᴛᴏɴɪɴ

ᴍᴇʟᴀᴛᴏɴɪɴ

…𝘤𝘩𝘳𝘪𝘴 𝘥𝘰𝘦𝘴𝘯'𝘵 𝘯𝘦𝘦𝘥 𝘢 𝘨𝘶𝘮𝘮𝘺 𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘭𝘦𝘦𝘱, 𝘩𝘦 𝘯𝘦𝘦𝘥𝘴 𝘺𝘰𝘶

angst, fluff, slow burn, friends to lovers, melatonin addiction (metaphorically), jealousy, showering together, please just communicate already, pining, tension, oblivious

word count - 8k

The drive from the airport is quiet, the kind of quiet that isn’t exactly uncomfortable but isn't exactly comfortable either. Just… there. Chris has one hand on the wheel, the other tapping absentmindedly against his thigh. Every so often, his fingers twitch like he wants to reach for the volume knob, but he never follows through.

“You can play your music if you want,” she offers, just to break the silence.

Chris exhales, kind of amused, kind of relieved. “Yeah? You’re not too tired?”

She rolls her eyes. “Please. You act like I haven’t been forced to listen to your music in Matt’s car a million times.”

That earns her a little laugh, but he scrolls through his phone anyway, puts on something easy, something familiar. The first notes of a Mac Miller song hum through the car. She lets her forehead rest against the window, feeling the warmth of LA’s night air pressing against the glass.

When they finally get to the house, Chris grabs her suitcase from the trunk, nodding toward the door. “Come on, before I pass out on the driveway.”

Inside, the house is quiet except for the faint hum of the fridge. Matt and Nick must already be asleep. Chris hauls her suitcase down the hall, stopping outside his room.

“Alright, so, you can take my bed,” he says, rubbing his face like the exhaustion is finally catching up to him.

“What? No, it’s fine, I can take the couch,” she protests.

“Nah, the couch is ass,” he shoots back immediately. “I fall asleep on it all the time, I’d know.”

“Then where are you gonna sleep?”

Chris shrugs, already walking into his room and grabbing some sweats from the dresser. “I’ll just go up to Matt’s.”

He says it so casually, like it’s no big deal, but she hesitates. “You really don’t have to—”

“Dude, I’m literally in my own house. I think I can find somewhere to sleep. Matt doesn’t mind.” He disappears into the bathroom, voice muffled as he brushes his teeth. “Besides, I wouldn’t get any sleep in here anyway.”

That makes her pause. “What do you mean?”

Chris spits out toothpaste, rinses his mouth, then leans in the doorway, running a hand through his hair. He looks tired. More than tired.

“Eh,” he shrugs. “Dunno. Just been sleeping like shit lately. Stress or whatever.”

She doesn’t push, but something about the way he says it, like it’s normal, sits weird in her chest. He disappears again to change, still talking.

“Swear to God, I was sleeping in Matt’s room the other week, and I got sleep paralysis. You ever get that?”

She wrinkles her nose. “No, thank God.”

“Shit’s terrifying,” Chris mutters. “I always see some nightmare-looking thing, and I get stuck in these weird lucid dreams.”

She makes a face. “Alright, well. Sweet dreams.”

Chris just laughs, tugging his hoodie over his head. “Yeah, yeah.” He throws a pillow onto the bed for her, yawns into his sleeve, then heads for the door.

She watches him go, then, on impulse, grabs the remote and turn on the TV. The glow fills the room, casting soft shadows on the walls.

Chris stops in the doorway. “What are you doing?”

“Watching some youtube.”

Chris squints at her, then at the screen. “You don’t even like my recommendations.”

She shrugs. “I always watch youtube before bed.”

Chris scoffs, but he’s already walking back toward the bed. He kicks off his slides, plops down on the mattress, and grabs the remote from her hand like he was always planning on staying.

For a while, it’s just the two of them, bathed in the glow of the TV, flipping through videos, making fun of whatever’s on the screen. He stretches out next to her, close enough that she can feel the warmth of him, even though neither of them acknowledge it.

At some point, one video blurs into the next, the voices on screen turning into white noise. Her eyelids grow heavier. Chris mumbles something about closing his eyes for a second.

Neither of them mean to fall asleep. But you do.

Sunlight leaks through the blinds, spilling over tangled sheets and the forgotten remote. She stirs first, half-aware of the weight pressed into the mattress beside her.

Chris is still asleep, face smushed into the pillow, hoodie slipping off his shoulder. His breathing is deep, even. Peaceful.

Then, slowly, he shifts, stretching like a cat before cracking one eye open.

He blinks at her. Then at the TV. Then back at her.

“You didn’t kick me out,” he mumbles, voice thick with sleep.

“You didn’t leave,” she points out.

Chris hums, rolling onto his back. His gaze flickers toward the ceiling, thoughtful.

Then, soft, barely there, “Damn. I haven’t slept that good in forever.”

She doesn’t know what to say to that. So she doesn’t say anything.

Chris yawns, then turns his head, shooting her a lazy grin. “Guess you’re like melatonin or something.”

She rolls her eyes, pushing his arm. “Don’t be weird.”

Chris just laughs, stretching again before flopping dramatically onto the pillow.

“Whatever, dude. I’m just saying,” he mutters, already half-asleep again.

And for some reason, that weird feeling from last night settles a little.

Slowly but surely, an accident became a routine.

The next night, Chris was talking to her before heading up to Matt’s room, just like before. She had started a video, some dumb commentary channel she liked, and he had sat on the edge of the bed, watching over her shoulder, pretending like he wasn’t actually interested.

Somewhere between one video and the next, he had stretched out beside her, claiming it was more comfortable than craning his neck. And then, at some point after that, he had fallen asleep. She didn’t mind. She fell asleep soon after.

The next morning, he stirred awake to the feeling of warmth beside him. His room smelled different…cleaner, softer, like her shampoo. The sheets rustled, and when he opened his eyes, he saw her lying there, still half-asleep.

“Morning,” she murmured, voice thick with sleep.

Chris blinked at the ceiling. He hadn’t woken up once last night. No tossing and turning, no staring at the walls until exhaustion took over. Just… sleep. Real, deep sleep. He turned his head toward her, voice groggy.

“I take it back. I think that was the best sleep I’ve ever had.”

She huffed a small laugh, rubbing her eyes before reaching for her phone. “Good to know I make an effective substitute for melatonin.”

He grinned, shaking his head, but didn’t argue.

By the third night, he didn’t even try going upstairs.

He still made a show of pretending he was just there to talk, of course. He’d walk in, plop down onto the bed, ask her some dumb question about whatever video she was watching. She’d answer, play along, knowing exactly what he was doing. And when she eventually switched the screen off, pulled the blankets up, and turned off the lamp, he was still there.

Neither of them said anything about it.

And if, over time, he started inching closer, if she stopped sleeping with her back to him, if they eventually woke up tangled in the mornings, well… no one had to know.

Except Nick did find out.

He had barged into Chris’s room one morning, complaining about something random, only to freeze mid-sentence. His eyes flicked from Chris’s arm slung around her waist to the way her face was pressed into the pillow, and then back again.

Chris blinked, barely awake. “What?”

Nick made a face. “Dude.”

Chris groaned, rolling onto his back and rubbing his eyes. “It’s not what it looks like.”

Nick crossed his arms. “It looks like you’re spooning our best friend.”

Chris scoffed, sitting up. “I was not spooning her.”

Nick raised an eyebrow.

Chris glanced over. She was still curled up, half-asleep, completely unbothered.

“Okay, maybe I was,” he admitted, voice low. “But it’s not a thing. We’re just friends, you know that.”

Nick didn’t look convinced. “Wait till I tell Matt. He’s gonna think it’s weird.”

Chris flopped back onto the pillows, sighing. “Matt thinks everything is weird.”

“Yeah, well, I think it’s weird too.”

Chris waved a lazy hand in the air. “Then don’t think about it.”

Nick stared at him for another second, then exhaled, shaking his head. “Whatever, dude.” He turned to leave, muttering, “You’re weird.”

Chris ignored him.

But later, when he found himself awake before her again, when he saw the way she had drifted closer in the night, how easy it was, how natural, it made his chest feel tight.

He didn’t know what that meant. He wasn’t sure he wanted to.

That afternoon, as she rummaged through her suitcase, Nick casually tossed her a shirt she’d been eyeing for the party later. "You good?" he asked, his voice light, but the concern was still there.

She paused for a moment, throwing a glance at him. "Yeah, why wouldn’t I be?"

Nick crossed his arms, gaze softening just a little. “You sure? ‘Cause you’ve always had a soft spot for Chris, and now you two are… I just—” He sighed, glancing away for a moment before looking back at her. “I know how you get when you start liking someone. Just don’t want you to get hurt.”

She scoffed, waving a dismissive hand. “It’s not like that.”

Nick gave her a knowing look, clearly not convinced. “Alright. Just making sure, okay?” His voice was gentle now, like he wanted her to know he was looking out for her, even if she didn’t want to hear it. “I just don’t want you falling for someone who’s not gonna catch you, you know?”

Her stomach twisted slightly at his words, but she refused to show it. “I’m fine. Really.”

Nick gave a small nod but didn’t look entirely reassured. “Just be careful. Alright?”

She didn’t respond right away, too caught up in the knot of emotions Nick’s words had caused. She forced a smile. “I will.”

That night, she found herself in conversation with a guy she’d just met. He was nice, easy to talk to, and she was enjoying herself. 

That was, until Chris appeared beside her, sliding an arm around her waist like it was the most natural thing in the world.

Her breath hitched. Her heart both soared and sank.

She turned slightly, looking up at him. “What are you doing?”

Chris shrugged, gaze locked onto the guy in front of her. “Just saying hey.”

The guy hesitated, glancing between them before offering a small smile. “I should, uh, grab another drink. Nice meeting you.”

She watched him go, then turned back to Chris, who was still standing way too close. “Really?”

Chris just grinned, unfazed. “What?”

She rolled her eyes, but couldn’t ignore the way her body betrayed her, leaning the slightest bit into him despite herself.

The night air was cool, but she felt warmth against her skin, and she stirred in her sleep, confused for a moment as to why she wasn’t alone. It took a moment before her groggy mind registered the weight of Chris’s arm draped over her waist, his chest pressed lightly against her back. The soft, rhythmic sound of his breathing filled the silence of the room.

Her shirt sleeve had ridden up, and his lips were warm against her bare shoulder, pressing a soft kiss against the exposed skin. It was gentle, almost like he was unaware of what he was doing, but the sensation sent a jolt through her.

She didn’t know how long he'd been there, how long this moment had been unfolding, but everything inside her froze. She could feel his heartbeat against her back, his presence so familiar yet unsettling all at once. Her chest tightened. She didn’t know what to do. Didn’t know where they stood. Didn’t know if this was something real or just another moment she was reading too far into.

His lips brushed against her skin again, and the tension in her body grew, her mind racing, trying to sort through the haze of sleep and confused feelings. She liked it. She liked it more than she should.

She gently shifted, trying not to disturb him, but the movement made her heart race even more. Her hand found the edge of the bed, and she slowly started to sit up, trying to slip away from him without waking him. She could feel his arm loosen slightly as she moved, but his grip still lingered, not quite enough to stop her but enough to remind her that he was there.

She carefully swung her legs over the side of the bed, standing up and pulling her sleeve back down, her mind still racing, her chest tight with something she couldn’t quite place. The room felt colder now that she was standing, the emptiness of the space around her only making everything seem more unclear.

Chris shifted behind her, the faint sound of him mumbling something in his sleep, but he didn’t wake. She paused, glancing over her shoulder at him, his face still relaxed in slumber. There was no way he knew what had just happened.

Her hand hovered over the door, but she stayed there for a moment longer, watching him. She wanted to say something, to wake him and tell him how she felt, how everything seemed so messy between them, but the words were stuck in her throat.

Instead, she turned away and left the room quietly, closing the door behind her with a soft click, leaving him alone in the bed. An early morning would do her good.

Chris, still half-asleep, didn't notice. He mumbled something else, shifting slightly under the covers, a frown tugging at his face, but nothing seemed amiss to him. The effect of melatonin can stay in your body for 4 to 10 hours.

The movie had just finished, and the soft hum of the credits filled the room as the others began to stretch out. Nick yawned, glancing at Matt. “I’m heading up. You coming?”

Matt nodded, not looking up from his phone. “Yeah, I’ll be up in a minute.”

Nick tossed a quick “night” in their direction and headed upstairs, his footsteps fading as he disappeared into the hall.

Chris stretched his arms out, the tiredness from the night creeping in. He looked over at her, still curled up on the couch, a blanket draped over her legs. “You ready for bed?” he asked, his voice low and casual, as if the idea was just a natural extension of their evening together.

She blinked, looking up at him from where she was snuggled into the couch. “Um,” she started with a half-smile, trying to sound nonchalant. “I’m comfy here. Think I’ll just sleep on the couch.”

Chris hesitated, his brow furrowing slightly in confusion. He took a small step toward her, his tone softening. “You sure? You okay?”

She froze for just a beat too long. The words were there, right on the tip of her tongue—she wanted to tell him everything, how confused she felt, how much she cared—but nothing came out. Instead, she gave a quick nod and forced a smile. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just need some space.”

The words left her mouth a little too quickly, the awkwardness hanging in the air. She could see it in Chris’s eyes, that flicker of uncertainty. He didn’t push it, but there was a slight pause before he spoke again.

“Okay,” he said, his voice softer now. “I’ll be downstairs if you change your mind.” He stood there for a second longer, glancing at her, but she didn’t say anything else.

With a quiet “g’night,” Chris turned and headed for the stairs, the sound of his footsteps growing faint as he descended to the lower floor.

She stayed on the couch, the silence of the room wrapping around her like a blanket. Her chest felt tight again, but she didn’t want to go to him. The night passed slowly, and despite her intentions, she didn’t sleep as soundly as she hoped. There was an uneasy restlessness that lingered beneath the surface, something she couldn’t quite shake. She wasn’t sure what it was… maybe it was guilt, or the weight of her own emotions… but the pull she felt for Chris, mixed with the walls she kept building around herself, left her feeling both disconnected and deeply conflicted.

Meanwhile, Chris lay awake in his own bed, staring at the ceiling, his mind replaying the same conversation. He didn’t quite understand what had just happened, but something felt different. She’d never said anything like that before, and it bothered him more than he was willing to admit. He buried his face in his pillow, hoping that inhaling the scent of her would give him even a fraction of the calming effect she had when she was in his arms.

Sleep didn’t come easily for either of them that night.

She sleeps on the couch again the next night. And the night after that. 

It’s almost five nights before the new routine is interrupted.

She was already half asleep when Chris appeared, his figure casting a long shadow over the couch. She barely stirred, but when his voice broke the silence, her eyes fluttered open.

“I can’t sleep,” Chris murmured, standing at the edge of the couch, his tone low and full of exhaustion. “My bed smells like you... miss you.”

Her heart skipped a beat at the way his words felt too familiar. She tried to stay still, pretend like everything was fine, but something in his voice made her want to respond, to comfort him. It was easy to let him in like this, so easy to slip into the warmth he offered, but tonight felt different. She couldn’t ignore the way her mind was racing.

“Take some melatonin, Chris.”

“Already did an hour ago. Didn’t do shit.”

Before she could say anything, Chris climbed onto the couch beside her, sliding down next to her with a small sigh of relief. She didn’t pull away immediately. Instead, she let herself relax just a little, the tension in her shoulders softening as he settled beside her. His arm slipped around her, pulling her a bit closer, and she let him.

His face was so close to hers now, and she could feel his breath as he spoke, his voice quiet and soothing. “I just... I don’t know. I miss having you around like this. It’s been easier with you here, you know? It feels right. You’re my melatonin.”

Her heart ached at his words, but her stomach twisted in knots. She closed her eyes for a moment, trying to find the courage to say something, anything, but the warmth of his touch, his gentle presence, was almost overwhelming. She didn't want to ruin it, but she couldn't ignore the heaviness in her chest either.

He shifted closer, resting his head against hers, a soft smile on his lips. “I’ve missed this. Missed you. Being close. Not having to say anything, just being.”

She squeezed her eyes shut, the softness of his words crashing into her like waves, tugging at her heart. Her chest felt tight, and she took a slow breath, gathering her thoughts. She knew she couldn’t keep ignoring this, ignoring the way her heart was reacting to him, but also how much she was hurting.

It wasn’t supposed to be like this. Not now.

“You’re my best friend.” he murmurs.

Finally, she sat up, her body tense as she pulled away from him slightly. Chris looked at her with a furrowed brow, his hand reaching out instinctively as if to pull her back to him, but she shook her head gently.

“Chris, we need to talk,” she said, her voice quieter than she intended, but firm enough that he knew this was something serious.

His brow furrowed in confusion, but he didn’t move. “What’s wrong?”

She took a steadying breath. “You can’t keep doing this to me,” she said, her voice thick with the weight of everything she had been holding back. “You show up, and you pull me in like it’s nothing. And I let you. But I can’t keep pretending that I don’t feel something... something more.”

Chris’s eyes widened, and he opened his mouth as if to say something, but she pushed on, needing to get it out.

“I can’t keep doing this, Chris. You’re taking advantage of me, messing with my head.” Her voice wavered for a moment, but she kept going, her words becoming clearer, stronger. “I don’t even know where we stand, and… I just, I need space. I need time.”

He stared at her, his expression unreadable, and for a moment, there was only silence between them. The space that had been so filled with warmth and affection now felt distant, uncomfortable.

Chris finally spoke, his voice soft, confused. “Wait… You’re serious?”

She nodded, her chest aching, but her resolve growing stronger with every second. “Yes. I care about you, Chris. A lot. I just don’t think I can keep letting this go on like it has.”

He didn’t say anything for a while. His eyes were locked on hers, searching for something, anything that might explain her words. But all he found was the certainty in her gaze, and it seemed to deflate him. Slowly, he sat up, his face crumpling with an emotion she couldn’t quite name.

“Okay,” he whispered, his voice barely audible. He didn’t argue, didn’t ask for an explanation, just accepted her words with a quiet sadness in his eyes.

The silence between them was heavy, and for a moment, she wasn’t sure if she had made the right choice. But she knew she couldn’t keep ignoring her own heart. She needed space, even if it meant breaking things off with him for good.

He stood up and walked toward the door without saying another word, leaving her there on the couch, her heart torn but her mind finally clear.

Chris avoids her. Doesn’t so much as speak to her for the next three days. Not that she doesn’t try. She doesn’t want to lose her friend, no matter how much he confuses the shit out of her.

When she wakes up that morning, she leaves a text: “I’m sorry for what I said. I hope things aren’t weird between us.” It’s simple, non-confrontational, just her way of reaching out. She waits for a reply, but it never comes.

She sees him in the kitchen later, his back turned as he scrambles some eggs. She stands in the doorway, chewing on her lip, trying to find the right words. But when he doesn’t even acknowledge her presence, she feels her heart sink. She clears her throat, and the words finally spill out.

“Hey, uh… I’ve been thinking about everything, and I just,”

He doesn’t turn around. The sound of the pan sizzling is louder than her voice. She bites her lip, swallowing the lump in her throat, and finally walks away. It stings, but she tries not to let it show.

She tries again, finding him lounging on the couch, eyes glued to the TV. It’s not like he doesn’t know she’s there. She’s in his line of sight. She stands in front of him, arms folded over her chest.

“You’ve been avoiding me,” she says, her voice a little too quiet, but loud enough for him to hear. “Are we seriously doing this?”

He doesn’t look at her. His eyes stay locked on the screen. The silence stretches out until she’s almost ready to walk away.

“Chris,” she says, a little more forcefully this time. “Please just say something.”

He sighs, leaning back on the couch, eyes still on the TV. “I’m not avoiding you.”

She can feel her frustration bubbling up, but she forces it down. “Then what’s going on? You’ve barely looked at me in three days.”

He doesn’t respond right away, and she can tell he’s weighing something in his head. Finally, he shifts, glancing at her with a look that says he’s tired of this conversation before it’s even started. “You said you needed space, right?”

She blinks at him, feeling a sudden tightness in her chest. “Space?” She repeats, as if she didn’t hear him right. “Oh. Right.”

“Yeah,” he says, voice flat. “You said you need some time. So I’m respecting that.”

She swallows hard, blinking back the sting of tears. “Fine,” she says, the word feeling hollow. “If that’s how you want to be.”

But before she can turn away, he adds, almost too quietly, “You’re the one who made it… complicated.”

“It’s been complicated for a while now,” she mutters under her breath, not even sure if he hears it. When she does turn to leave, she hears the TV volume go up slightly.

The kitchen was unusually quiet on the fourth morning, the usual chatter drowned out by the tension hanging thick in the air. She sat at the breakfast table next to Nick, absentmindedly stirring her coffee. Across from her, Matt was flipping through his phone, and Chris sat diagonally, his gaze fixed somewhere near her, but not directly on her. She could feel the weight of his eyes, but she kept her focus on her mug, pretending not to notice.

Matt, ever the oblivious one to the mood shifts, broke the silence. “So, any plans tonight?” His tone was casual, but she could sense the underlying curiosity.

She paused for a beat, the question feeling almost too loaded now. She wasn’t sure if she was ready to confront the situation in front of everyone, but the words slipped out anyway. “I’ve got a date.”

The room seemed to freeze.

Chris immediately went still, his posture rigid, his eyes narrowing in a way she didn’t dare acknowledge. His jaw clenched, and she could feel the tension building between them like an electric current. But she couldn’t look at him. She just couldn’t.

Nick shot her a playful smile. “Oh, a date, huh? Who’s the lucky guy?”

She forced a small smile, shrugging. “Just someone I met at that party. Nothing serious.”

Matt gave her a curious look, but said nothing, sensing the sudden shift in the atmosphere. Meanwhile, Chris’s gaze hadn’t left her, though she kept her eyes down, deliberately avoiding his. She could feel his stare burning into her skin, but she refused to acknowledge it.

The silence stretched, the clink of silverware against plates sounding louder than it should. She stole a quick glance at Chris, but when their eyes met, she immediately looked away, her heart pounding in her chest. She couldn’t deal with it. Not now.

Nick, thankfully, broke the quiet with a cheerful comment, completely unaware of the tension he was helping diffuse. “Well, I hope he’s worth the hype!” he teased, nudging her lightly.

She managed a smile, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “We’ll see,” she muttered, the words hollow.

Matt cleared his throat, his gaze flicking between her and Chris, but he didn’t push further. He wasn’t one to press, but the quiet stillness felt uncomfortable, like everyone was just waiting for something to break.

Chris’s hand tightened around his mug, but he didn’t speak. His eyes never left her face, and she wondered if he could feel the space growing between them. She could.

The rest of breakfast passed in strained silence. Every word felt too loud, every movement too deliberate. She couldn’t shake the feeling that the dynamic between them had shifted, irreparably.

The afternoon light was fading by the time she made her way to Nick’s room to get ready. The door was slightly ajar, and she pushed it open, laying her clothes neatly out on the bed, everything set for the night ahead. She’d spent a while picking out her outfit, wanting to look good for herself… no one else. The soft fabric of the dress she’d chosen made her feel a little lighter, a little more like herself.

She stood in front of the mirror, smoothing down the fabric of her dress, taking a breath. She wasn’t sure what kind of energy she’d need tonight, but she was determined to go into it with confidence. The tension from breakfast was still hanging over her, but she tried to shake it off. She wasn’t going to let it mess with her plans.

The door to Nick’s room opened behind her, and he stepped in with a grin. “Hey, you look great!” His voice was genuine, the usual cheer in his tone. “That guy’s so lucky.”

She smiled at him, appreciating the support. “Thanks, Nick.”

Nick gave her a quick thumbs up before leaning against the doorframe. “You’re gonna crush it, as usual. Go have fun.”

She nodded and straightened her dress one more time. “I will. See you later.”

As she walked past him to head out of Nick’s room, she spotted Matt sitting on the couch in the living room. He glanced up when she entered, his face lighting up with a smile.

“Look at you!” he said, his voice full of warmth. “You clean up pretty well.”

She chuckled, feeling the genuine platonic affection in his words. “Thanks, Matt.” She liked that he never tried to make things weird. It was always just easy with him, no strings attached.

“You’re gonna kill it,” he added, a small grin tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Tell him I said hey, though.”

She gave him a thumbs up, her heart lightened by his words. His support was always comforting. It was simple. No pressure.

But as she reached the door, ready to leave, she couldn’t help but notice that Chris wasn’t around. She hadn’t seen him at all, not since breakfast, really—only heard the faint hum of music from his room a few times, the silence between them unspoken but heavy. She tried not to think about it, but as she looked over the room once more, she realised he was still nowhere to be found.

Her chest tightened just slightly, but she shook it off. No time for that now.

With a deep breath, she turned back to the front door and pulled on her jacket. It was time to go. She didn’t look back.

The house was quieter now, with the soft hum of the evening setting in. Matt was still lounging on the couch, flicking through something on his phone. He looked up when he heard footsteps approaching, and his gaze shifted to the hallway just as Chris appeared from his room.

Chris was wearing a relaxed look, his hair a bit messier than usual, clearly just having pulled himself out of his space after being holed up for most of the day. He paused in the doorway, looking around before his eyes landed on Matt.

“Has she left yet?” Chris asked, his tone careful but tinged with something Matt couldn’t quite place. It was almost like he’d been waiting for the answer, his fingers tapping on his jeans nervously.

Matt glanced up from his phone, taking a beat before nodding. “Yeah, just left a few minutes ago.”

Chris stiffened slightly, his jaw tightening ever so subtly. There was a moment of silence, and Matt noticed the way his younger brother’s gaze shifted downward, as if weighing something he wasn’t ready to say. His lips parted, like he was going to ask something else, but then he closed them again, a deep breath escaping him.

Without saying another word, Chris took a step toward the stairs, his movements slow and deliberate. He hesitated at the base of the stairs for a second, then turned, walking past Matt with his head slightly down.

Matt watched him go, furrowing his brow, something in the air now feeling just a little heavier. Chris didn’t look back, heading straight up toward Nick’s room, his footsteps steady but lacking the usual confidence he carried with him.

“I swear, man, I can’t fucking sleep. Not at all.” Chris’s voice was tight with agitation as he ran a hand over his face. “It’s like something’s just… missing. My brain just won’t turn off.”

Nick, who had been scrolling on his phone, looked up at him with a sharp look, setting the phone aside. “Yeah, I wonder what’s keeping you up, Chris. Could it be the fact that you’ve been pushing someone away for the last couple of days?”

Chris froze, a flash of annoyance flickering across his face. “What the hell are you talking about?”

Nick’s voice was low and steady, but the frustration was there, raw beneath the surface. “You’ve been messing with her head, man. And you’re not even realising it.”

Chris’s jaw clenched, his hands curling into fists. “What are you trying to say?”

Nick pushed off the bed and stood up, his stance more confrontational now, stepping closer to Chris. “You’re pushing her away, and I don’t think you even realise how much it’s affecting her. You know she’s had a thing for you for a long time, right?” Nick’s words were like a punch to the gut for Chris. “And now, she doesn’t know what the hell you want from her.”

Chris opened his mouth to respond, but Nick wasn’t done. “You’ve been hot and cold with her. One minute, you’re all over her, next minute, you’re ghosting her. She’s confused as hell. Heck, Matt and I are confused as hell.”

Chris’s throat tightened. He didn’t want to hear this. He wasn’t ready to confront it. “I’m not doing anything to hurt her,” he muttered, more to himself than to Nick.

Nick’s eyes narrowed. “You’re not trying to hurt her, but you are. You can’t keep doing this to her, man. She’s been nothing but there for you, and you’re just gonna keep running hot and cold on her like it’s nothing?”

Chris’s frustration built, and his tone turned sharper. “It’s not like that, Nick. I just—” He faltered, unable to finish the sentence. He didn’t have an answer.

Nick wasn’t backing down. “Then what the hell is it? Do you like her or not?” His voice was louder now, his frustration spilling over. “Because, from where I’m standing, it looks like you’re stringing her along.”

Chris’s pulse quickened, his breathing coming in short bursts. The words were hanging in the air, and he didn’t know how to answer. The truth was, he didn’t know. He didn’t know what he felt. He hadn’t let himself think about it. But now, with Nick pushing him like this, it was all too much.

“I don’t know!” Chris snapped, the words coming out harsher than he meant. “I haven’t thought about it. Not properly. I don’t know what I want, okay?” He ran a hand through his hair again, pacing the room like he was trying to escape the pressure building inside him.

Nick was unrelenting, his voice low but sharp. “Well, you better figure it out, Chris. You’re both just tiptoeing around something, and it’s not fair to her. It’s not fair to either of you.”

Chris finally stopped pacing, looking at Nick with a mixture of frustration and guilt in his eyes. He wanted to argue. He wanted to tell Nick that he didn’t mean to mess things up, but the words wouldn’t come. The guilt in his chest was too heavy, and he knew Nick was right. He was confusing her.

“I’m not trying to hurt her, alright? I don’t even know what’s going on with me right now,” Chris muttered, his voice softer, more vulnerable. “I care. About her, I do. Really. But I can’t just... I don’t know how to fix this.”

Nick sighed, shaking his head in disappointment. “You’ve already hurt her, Chris. Do you want to keep doing it? Keep messing with her head, or do you want to figure it out before it gets even worse?”

Chris paced slowly, trying to distract himself with anything, getting a soda, checking his phone, anything that would stop his mind from spinning. But it was no use. All he could think about was her.

As he opened the fridge, the front door creaked open, and he froze for a moment. He knew she was back.

He grabbed the pepsi without even thinking about it and turned, casually leaning against the counter. His eyes landed on her almost immediately as she walked in, looking effortlessly stunning despite the exhaustion in her eyes. She was still wearing the outfit she’d worn for her date, and the glow of happiness she carried with her made his chest ache.

He couldn’t stop staring at her.

She was smiling, genuinely smiling, the kind of smile that didn’t belong to someone who’d just had an awkward, disappointing evening. She looked happy, and it made him feel something sharp. Something that didn’t make sense. He didn’t like it.

She walked past him, shrugging off her jacket and tossing it over the back of the chair. She was humming softly to herself, completely oblivious to the storm brewing inside him.

“How was it?” Chris blurted out, almost without thinking, his voice low but with an edge to it.

Her smile faltered for just a second before she answered. “It was alright. He was nice,” she said, taking her shoes off as she leant against the dining table. “He paid for the date, said he wouldn’t mind seeing me again.”

Chris stood there frozen, his fingers tightening around the bottle. He didn’t know why her words made him feel this way, jealous, frustrated, irritated, but it did. She wasn’t his, she could date whoever she wanted, but hearing that made something twist inside him.

She caught the briefest flicker of something in his eyes, a weird mix of discomfort and something else… maybe… jealousy? But it was gone before she could fully process it.

There was a long silence. Neither of them seemed to know what to say.

He was the first to break it. “Are you gonna sleep on the couch again?” His voice was low, too soft, and when he asked, it sounded like something he didn’t want to ask at all.

She nodded, biting her lip slightly. “Yeah… I’ll just shower and then probably pass out.”

His chest tightened at the thought of her sleeping on the couch, and he couldn’t hold back anymore. He set the pepsi down with a soft thud, the frustration he had been holding in all day finally spilling out.

“Please,” he began, his tone almost pleading as he walked towards her. “Can we just go back to the way it was between us? I can’t... I can’t do this. I can’t sleep without you around, especially not when my bed still smells like you. I need you.”

Her eyes flashed at his words, and for a moment, she stayed silent. She hadn’t expected him to say that, but hearing it made her feel a mix of frustration and confusion.

“You’re being unfair, Chris,” she finally said, her voice sharp as her anger started to rise. “You’re taking advantage of the fact that I care about you, and I’m sick of it. You’re pulling me in one moment and pushing me away the next. You don’t do that to someone you care about. You don’t do that to your friend. And all this time, you’ve been acting like it’s nothing, like you don’t care how much you’re messing with my head.”

She was getting louder now, her words tumbling out in an angry rant.

“You think I don’t notice? You think I don’t see the way you act like I’m just supposed to keep waiting around for you to figure out your shit? It’s exhausting!” She stepped back, pacing slightly, her frustration boiling over. “If you can’t man up and ask me out, or just tell me how you feel, then I’m done. I’m going to shower, and then I’m going to sleep. On the couch. By myself. And you can figure out what the hell you want. By yourself.”

The silence that followed was thick. Chris was staring at her now, wide-eyed, shocked by her words. But there was something else in his gaze, something that told her he knew she was right.

“Please,” he said again, his voice barely above a whisper now, his tone softer. “I didn’t mean to hurt you... I just…”

But she shook her head, cutting him off. “You’re not hearing me, Chris. You have to figure it out. Because I’m not going to keep doing this, okay?”

She walked away without another word, her shoulders stiff, her eyes resolutely forward.

Chris stood there for a long moment, his chest aching with something he couldn’t quite place. Regret, maybe, or guilt. 

He couldn’t let her walk away. He couldn’t let this be the end. Not like this. The intensity of the situation was too much, the longing too real. And before he could even think about it, he was pulling her back towards him, his lips crashing against hers.

She gasped in surprise at first, but her body reacted almost instinctively,her lips parting slightly, her hands gripping his shirt. She moaned into the kiss, a soft sound that echoed in the quiet house.

He pulled her closer, his hands slipping around her waist, and before they knew it, they were walking together, still tangled in each other’s arms, down the stairs towards his room. She stumbled slightly as her feet were lost in the rush, and he caught her effortlessly, guiding her backwards through the door and onto the bed. She fell onto it with a soft thud, and he was on top of her, kissing her with a desperation that mirrored his own.

It was all so overwhelming, everything that had built up between them, all the confusion, all the pain and frustration. And for the first time, Chris felt like it was finally real, finally happening.

But at some point, the kiss slowed, the urgency giving way to something softer. Their breaths mingled in the quiet of the room, and Chris pulled back, his forehead resting against hers, his heart pounding in his chest.

There was a long silence between them, thick with unspoken words. Chris’s fingers lightly brushed over her cheek, his thumb tracing the curve of her jaw as he gazed at her, searching her face as if trying to find the right words.

"I don't know how to say this," he murmured, his voice quiet but steady. “But I think I’ve liked you for so long. I didn’t even realize it at first, but I know now. I know it’s been obvious, and I know I’ve been an idiot for pretending it wasn’t. But I can’t keep pretending anymore. Not with you. Not with the way you make me feel."

Her heart thudded in her chest, and for a moment, she couldn’t say anything. She simply stared up at him, still processing the weight of his confession.

He took a deep breath, sitting up slightly to adjust his position, still looking at her like she was the only thing that mattered in the room.

“I didn’t know what to do with all of this, okay?” he continued, his words tumbling out faster now, as if he’d been holding them back for far too long. “I’ve been running away from it, pushing you away, and then I got confused because I didn’t know if you felt the same. And the thing is,” He paused, his eyes softening. “The thing is, I never wanted to hurt you. I didn’t want to mess with your head. But I’m so scared of being vulnerable. So scared of screwing this up. But now… now I know that I’m not scared of you. I’m just scared of losing you.”

His voice broke a little on the last word, and for the first time, she saw the depth of the uncertainty in his eyes. He was just as scared as she was.

"I... I can't sleep without you," he admitted, his voice thick with emotion. "I was serious when I said you’re like my melatonin. You’ve been in my head, all the time, and I keep pretending like it’s nothing, like it’s fine, but it’s not. I can’t keep doing this. I can’t pretend like I’m okay when I’m not. I need you."

The words hung in the air between them, heavy with truth. He reached for her hand, gently taking it in his. "I care about you. I care about you so much, and I don’t want to mess this up anymore. I just... I want you to know that. I want you to know how much you mean to me."

Her breath caught in her throat, and for a long moment, she didn’t know what to say. Everything he’d said was so much, so real, and it was more than she'd expected him to admit. Her heart swelled with everything he had said, and for the first time, she felt like they were on the same page. 

She leaned up, pressing her lips to his, softly this time, as if sealing the promise he had just made.

She sighed, a small, almost sad smile playing on her lips before she leaned up and kissed him once more—lightly this time, a soft, lingering kiss that spoke of both forgiveness and longing.

Pulling away, she stood, brushing herself off. "I need to shower," she said, her voice quieter now.

Chris immediately pouted, the playful expression softening his features. “You can’t just leave me like this,” he muttered, reaching for her hand, his thumb brushing over her skin.

She couldn’t help but laugh a little. “I’m not leaving, just going to shower.”

He tugged her closer before she could escape, kissing her again—softer this time, tender. “Please... let me shower with you. I just want to be with you, okay?”

She paused, unsure, her heart still trying to catch up to everything. But there was something about the sincerity in his eyes that made her nod. “Okay, but only if you promise to be gentle. No funny business.”

His face lit up with a grin, and he pulled her towards the bathroom, his hands on her waist. Once inside, he turned the shower on, the warm water hissing as it began to pour down. They stood there for a moment, both of them still catching their breath, before Chris gently ran his fingers through her hair.

“You’re so beautiful.”

“Let me wash your hair,” he murmured, his voice almost a whisper. He was so careful with her, as if handling something fragile, every movement soft and deliberate. As he massaged the shampoo into her hair, the tension slowly drained from her body, replaced by warmth and the gentle intimacy of the moment.

The water cascaded down their skin, but it was more than just the warmth of the shower—it was the feeling of being with him in a way she hadn’t let herself be before. They weren’t just two people in a messy situation anymore. They were together, and somehow, that felt like everything.

Chris’s hands continued their soft motions, fingers running down her arms, her back, every touch carrying a tenderness she hadn’t expected from him.

As she closed her eyes, leaning into him, she allowed herself to fully feel this moment. For the first time in a long while, everything felt right. Even with all the mess and the confusion, this felt real.

The quiet hum of the night surrounded them, only the soft sound of their breathing filling the space between them. After everything, after the confessions, the uncertainty, the words they’d finally spoken, it felt like nothing else mattered. Sleep was calling to them.

Chris gently pulled her into his arms, cradling her against his chest as they both settled into the bed. There was no more confusion now, no more second-guessing. Just the peaceful, steady rhythm of their hearts beating in sync. It wasn’t about rushing or rushing through anything. It wasn’t about labels, or anything they weren’t ready for. It was about being there, together, in that moment, with nothing but the comfort of each other’s presence.

He wrapped his arm around her waist, drawing her closer, and she nestled her head on his chest, the warmth of his body providing a sense of calm she hadn’t realised she’d been craving. They both let the silence wash over them, the weight of the day melting away. There were no more questions, no more what-ifs.

It was the kind of intimacy that didn’t demand anything more than just being—being present in each other’s arms, feeling the steady beat of their hearts, and letting the world outside slip into oblivion.

Her eyes fluttered shut as he kissed the top of her head softly, whispering something she couldn’t quite make out, but she didn’t need to hear it. The comfort of him was enough.

She fell asleep with the faintest smile on her face, and Chris stayed awake a little longer, his mind swimming with everything that had happened. With everything that was still unfolding. He had never been more sure of anything in his life. When he finally did fall asleep, it was on his own terms, smooth and steady, comfortable.

No melatonin needed.

thank you to rose for the dividers!! much love, @bernardsbendystraws <3

a/n: this is for gabs :>> i hope ur sleep schedule improves!! SPEAKING OF WHICH, i need to go tf to sleep.

taglist: @blushsturns @sturnslutz @snoopychris @hazedsturns @sturns-mermaid @chrissweetheart @cowboylikenat @camzeecorner @sturniolo101 @courta13 @sweetshuga @st7rnioioss @throatgoat4u @shadowthesim237 @emely9274 @sturnberries @bluestriips @lovergirl4gracieabrams @chrisslut04 @tezzzzzzzz @strnilolover comment to be added!

till next time <3