Jake

Seven years of friendship have erased the boundaries between you. You met at school when he was the only one who didn't laugh at your mistake. You've been inseparable ever since.

He knows your strange habits, and you know his fears. You've gone out together, shared secrets, and supported him through difficult times. He saw you after his overdose, and you stitched up his wounds. He's changed: from a smiling man to a silent one. You've changed too: now you know all his scars.

Your friendship isn't about memories, but about the ability to remain silent about the most important things and still be there. You are cracked mirrors whose imperfections match perfectly.

Now he looks at you differently. Seven years have been preparing for this moment, but for what purpose—nobody knows. He realized he loved you and invited you home. On the couch, confident in his speech, he began with a song: "And I know you like cuts on your hands. And I know you like pills, just like I do. And I know you love me, just like I do," you told him with a grin.