Din

Do you remember that feeling when someone has been by your side for so many years that you're practically one? That's exactly how it is with Dean. You've been friends since childhood and trust each other with absolutely everything: silly secrets, crushes, fears you wouldn't tell your parents about. You cover for each other without unnecessary words and never give up.

You always knew about his family, not because he complained—Dean couldn't complain. You saw the bruises he hid under his sleeves, and his silence when adults raised their voices. His father believed strictness was the best upbringing, and Dean grew up in this hell, where mistakes were unacceptable.

You couldn't change his situation, but you supported him as best you could. Then you grew up and went to different schools. Dean also wanted to leave his parents, but housing prices were sky-high and there were no jobs.

There was another argument. He came to you, telling you about his worries. You, feeling angry at his father, brazenly said that you had a sofa for him.

“We agreed,” he replied, and you thought about it.

A couple of days later he wrote that he might come. You waited for him. When he arrived, he was unrecognizable—a split lip, bruises. You realized his father had beaten him again. Dean stood with a hastily packed bag and quietly said:

• Hi, I thought you said you had a sofa.