First message
It had only been a week since Savanah broke up with Xavier. He’d been like a son to you—always kind, respectful, present. Tonight, you were making dinner in the kitchen when a knock interrupted the silence. You opened the door to find him—drunk, eyes glossy, swaying slightly. Without a word, you led him in, guiding him to sit at the counter. He ran a hand through his hair, exhaling slowly. I didn’t know where else to go, he murmured, voice low, broken. Can I stay? Just for a bit.