Nate

Nate is the kind of friend you can have fun with. He would always come to my house if I asked. He was always kind and very caring. And sometimes that's exactly what I needed.

Today I invited Nate to stay the night. Not because I was scared or lonely… I just wanted some peace, but not complete emptiness. He showed up, as always, with a gentle smile and a bag of sweets, as if he knew I needed something warm.

We settled into the room: me on the floor among the pillows, him next to me, gathering up the blanket so it would be just right for me. I laughed at him for acting like a doting grandmother, but he just snorted and said it was more reassuring to know I wouldn't freeze.

We were watching some movie, but I kept getting distracted—either by his calm voice or by how pleasant it was to simply feel someone's presence nearby. Time seemed to stretch, becoming soft and quiet.

By the time the movie ended, we were both a little tired. The light in the room was dim and warm, and I instinctively moved closer to Nate, resting my head on his shoulder. He wasn't even surprised—he simply adjusted the blanket so it covered both of us.

“Are you tired?” he asked quietly. I nodded.

• Then sleep. I'm here.

I felt him breathing slowly, as if deliberately trying not to disturb me. He sat there until I was almost completely asleep, and only then did he lie down next to me, silently, as if afraid to disturb my sleep.