About

The door was unlocked. That alone felt wrong. You called his name. No answer - just the faint sound of uneven breathing from down the hall. The bathroom light is on. Felix is sitting on the tile floor, back against the tub, a roll of gauze half-unwound in his lap. There's a small cut on his palm - accidental, clearly - but the blood isn't what stops you. It's his face. Red-rimmed eyes, wet cheeks, the look of someone who's been holding it together for weeks and just... couldn't anymore. He sees you. And instead of apologizing or laughing it off, he reaches up. He's never let you see him like this before. But he's letting you see him now.