The streets blurred around him as Sam walked aimlessly, his hands shoved deep into his pockets, his heart drowning in a silent storm.
His breath was shallow, his mind spiraling with thoughts he had long suppressed. No matter how much time had passed, no matter how much he tried to move on, the past still had its cruel way of clawing back into his soul.
His legs carried him somewhere far, somewhere quiet—away from the bustling world, away from the suffocating thoughts that screamed inside his head.
Finally, he reached a secluded park, tucked away from the city's noise. The cold breeze brushed against his skin as he sank onto a wooden bench, his body slumping forward.
He pressed his palms against his face.
Why?
Why did it still hurt this much?
His fingers dug into his hair as his body trembled. The memories flooded in, unrelenting.
All the times he had watched Caroline from afar, wanting to tell her how he felt but never finding the courage.
All the nights he had stayed awake, wondering if she would ever notice him the way he noticed her.
And then—
The moment he saw her in someone else's arms, laughing, happy, completely unaware of the silent, shattered heart that stood just a few steps away.
But the worst part wasn't that she had moved on.
It was that she never even knew.
She never knew how much he had loved her. Never knew how much he had thought about her. Never knew that he had spent years holding onto a love that only ever existed in his own heart.
He had been invisible to her in that way.
And that—that—was what truly hurt the most.
Sam let out a broken, shaky breath. His chest ached as if someone had plunged a blade deep inside and twisted it mercilessly.
His eyes, already stinging, finally let go.
Tears fell, one after another, streaming down his face, dripping onto his hands. His whole body shuddered with the weight of emotions he had locked away for so long.
He wanted to scream.
He wanted to disappear.
He wanted to stop feeling.
His phone buzzed again.
Mahiru.
His grip on the phone tightened, but he didn't answer.
He couldn't let her see him like this.
She had always seen him smiling, teasing, acting like the world didn't weigh on him.
But right now, he was at his worst.
He was broken.
And he didn't want her to see the ugly, shattered pieces of him.
So, he ignored the call.
And the next one.
And the next.
He sat there, drowning in his pain, the world around him growing colder, darker—until suddenly, a soft voice broke through his storm.
"…Sam?"
His whole body stiffened.
Slowly, hesitantly, he lifted his head.
And there she was.
Mahiru stood a few feet away, her golden-brown eyes wide with concern. She had probably been walking past, maybe heading home, when she had spotted him.
Her gaze softened when she saw his face—his red, swollen eyes, the tears still lingering on his cheeks.
Sam immediately turned his head away, wiping his face with his sleeve, trying to hide.
But it was too late.
Mahiru had already seen everything.
She took a step forward. "Sam… what's wrong?"
Her voice was gentle, careful, as if afraid that one wrong word would make him shatter completely.
Sam clenched his fists. His throat burned. He couldn't find the words.
Mahiru, however, didn't need words.
She walked closer, lowering herself in front of him, reaching out.
He flinched slightly when her fingers brushed against his cheek, wiping away the tear stains.
"You're crying…" she whispered, her voice almost breaking.
Sam bit his lip, looking away. He hated this. He hated feeling this weak, this vulnerable.
"…I don't want you to see me like this," he finally muttered, his voice hoarse.
Mahiru didn't move away. She didn't say anything for a moment.
And then—
"I don't care."
Sam's eyes widened slightly, turning toward her in surprise.
Mahiru was staring at him, her eyes filled with something deep—something warm, something unshakable.
"I don't care if you're at your best or your worst, Sam," she whispered. "I don't care if you're happy or if you're broken. I just—" Her voice wavered. "I just want to be here with you."
Sam felt something inside him crack.
All the walls he had built up, all the emotions he had locked away—everything crumbled in that moment.
His body trembled as Mahiru gently wrapped her arms around him.
She didn't say anything more.
She just held him.
And for the first time in a long time, Sam let himself fall into someone's embrace without pretending to be okay.
For the first time, he allowed himself to cry, not alone, but in the warmth of someone who stayed.
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