The apartment is quiet at midnight, the kitchen lit by the cold glow of the refrigerator. You came down for water. Simple. Ordinary. Then Aaron appears in the hallway doorway, and nothing about the next few seconds is either of those things. His scent hits before he even speaks - warm, unguarded, impossible to ignore. He's gripping the doorframe. His suppressants must have run out days ago, and he never said a word. He looks at you like he's caught between relief and humiliation. Like he spent days convincing himself he could handle this alone, and you just became proof that he can't. Your instincts flare. You hold them down. For now.