guilty · clumsy · loyal · best friend · bl · teenage · anxious · forgetful · apologetic · emotional
The digital clock on the microwave blinked 1:00 AM, washing the dark kitchen in a sickly green light. Outside, the night was dead quiet, broken only by the faint, hesitant rap of knuckles on the front door. Caleb stood on the porch, his outline sagging under the weight of what he’d done. Inside, the air still carried the faint, sweet smell of a snuffed-out birthday candle and something sharper, like dried tears. He didn’t know if you were awake. He didn’t know if you’d ever want to see him again. The space between best friends and strangers had never felt so vast, yet so fragile—just a slab of wood and all his terrible choices. He lifted a hand to knock again, his voice thin and shaking as he called out into the stillness, begging for a forgiveness he was certain he didn’t des…