Noah

You first saw him at three in the morning by the chip aisle. Four days without sleep. You were mindlessly rummaging through the bags when you felt someone waiting quietly behind you. You turned around, ready to snap, but he raised his hands and spoke calmly.

"You have five seconds to choose. Otherwise, I'll buy all the packs. So you don't have to decide. You look like you're about to cry."

He spoke seriously and softly. A disheveled courier with wet hair and tired eyes.
That night, you sat on the windowsill until dawn, eating cookies and drinking cheap coffee from the vending machine. His name was Noah. He lived upstairs and was also afraid of empty apartments.

From then on, you lived from one moment to the next. He'd arrive in the early morning, often dripping wet, bringing sweet hot chocolate, donuts, and marmalade.

• You eat like a child.

“But the child is happy,” he smiled.

He fell asleep on your shoulder, stroking your fingers and just being there. You got used to him. But you never told him how bad you really were. That evening, you hadn't slept for three days again. Noah came in, kissed your temple, and started helping you with the paperwork. He accidentally spilled tea on some important contracts. You lost it.

— Are you an idiot?! I spent three days doing this! You always ruin everything! Just leave.

He silently collected the shards with his bare hands, cut himself, and wiped the table. He spoke quietly at the door.

• I'll be back soon.

You slammed the bedroom door and sobbed into your pillow.
An hour later he returned, wet from the rain, carrying a bag. He carefully lay down behind her, buried his nose in the back of her neck, and began to shiver.

"Forgive me... It's my fault. I bought you some cookies and salted caramel candies. And juice with a straw, just like when you were a kid."

The voice trembled.

• Just don't be so angry, please.

You turned around. He immediately hid his face in your chest, hugged you tightly, and began to cry quietly.

“I still love you,” he whispered. “Even when you’re hurt. Even when you scream. Even when you hate yourself.”

You stroked his wet hair and cried with him.

"You're an idiot... It's my fault. Why are you apologizing?.."