Lilia often worried about Frederic, he hadn’t changed since they’d met, not really, but the crescents under his eyes had grown darker each day she saw him. He still had this eloquent stride to him, his words carefully thought out and delivered with a smile so smooth that Lilia struggled to find any fault in his facade.

But that’s exactly what it was, a facade. She saw the darkness in him now, though it was obvious it had always been there, a dangerous glint in the back of his eyes, in his smile as he bared his teeth. Maybe he was born on a night where they left the windows open and a storm crept into his soul, because he was all bad dreams and tired eyes, staring up at her from the stairs leading up to her apartment. Nothing had changed about this scene, he had always waited outside for her even though he had a key, it was only now that she saw the obsession in his eyes. He lit a cigarette, taking a long drag and letting the smoke drift around him like skeins of haunted darkness.

“May I?” Lilia asked, eyes flicking down to the cigarette between his slender fingers. She knew the answer, but she followed the pattern of their meetings.

“They’ll kill you,” Frederic replied, leaning back on his elbows, his smile crooked and impossibly handsome. Lilia used to live for that smile, for the joy it brought her to see him happy, now it only inspired dread and concern. The smile didn’t reach his eyes, his eyes that were the same grey they always were but somehow now reminded Lilia of a starless sky.

Lilia breathed out a dry laugh, stepping passed him to unlock her front door. She didn’t know if she wanted him to come inside but he had to, it didn’t feel right to send him away right now, she was concerned but didn’t know how to breach the subject. Most of all, she didn’t know how he would react, and it was the hint of danger, a hidden kind of anger that clung to her boyfriend that she wasn’t sure she wanted to see just yet.

Something inside of her hurt to think this way, to see Frederic in such a new light that made her wonder about his mental health. It hurt like the feeling that came with the calm before a storm, like rainclouds hurt before they broke open but she moved through her living room with a painful familiarity. Frederic sat on her couch, stubbing out the cigarette before it would stink up the apartment as Lilia sat her bag down, shoulders aching from he weight of her textbooks. She moved towards the couch, ignoring the feeling in the pit of her stomach that screamed at her to run away, instead settling under her boyfriend’s arm like usual. She wanted to ask him if he was happy, if he had ever been happy, but the vacant look on his face as he watched the netflix documentary answered that for her. He was going dark, again, though she wasn’t supposed to know about that. Lilia’s meeting with his mother had revealed almost too much for her to handle, but Lilia didn’t want to up and run like Julie had recommended.

“When he hurts you,” she hissed, eyes dark and piercing, “and he will eventually hurt you - don’t look back. Leave,”

Lilia wanted to ask him if he’d meant it the first time he kissed her, or if he just meant to find something to take away from his pain because good god did he flinch when she cried the morning her mother had died.

He needed Lilia to not to show him anything other than happiness, because he had enough pain inside of him to be able to handle any of hers. Lilia could see what Julie had meant when she said that he was so incredibly, insolvably sad inside.

She wanted to ask if maybe he cried so loud when he was born that he woke the dead and now a ghost lives with him in his head. Lilia chewed on her lip, no matter how unsure or worried she was for Frederic, she still loved him, still wanted to do anything and everything she could for him.

Cursing Julie for getting into her head, Lilia tried to focus on this things about her boyfriend that had stayed genuine, like the way he held her against him, tight with his arm draped around her shoulders protectively and sometimes, when she caught him off guard, he stared her with such wonder in his eyes that she could almost forget about his mother’s cruel words.

“Too soft,” Julie spat. “When he breaks, and he will break, you will curl like the bark on trees,”

Lilia glanced up at Frederic, his eyes trained on the TV though she could see him fighting the urge to fall asleep. What did he see in his dreams? Were they bad or was there just nothing but blackness?

Frederic had a way of making Lilia feel alive, even in moments like these, like she was seven and at the top of a hill on Sal’s bike and halfway down he brakes stopped working.

“This boy is a spinning top,” Julie sighed, “and a bad choice wrapped up in one, disaster trails after him.”

Lilia wanted to ask Julie if maybe the problem was really that he didn’t just feel anything, much less love. Or if was actually just that she wasn’t good enough to keep his darkness at bay, but Lilia didn’t think she could handle the answer. Because sitting there, next to Frederic, there was nothing Lilia wouldn’t do for him, and even though she sat there, tongue tied and confused, she wouldn’t curl under the pressure.

She was there, and if Frederic needed to break, she would be there to catch the pieces, but even though she wanted to speak, Lilia said nothing.