Maybe the best thing about him is that I don’t feel like I need to try around him. I don’t need to force words out of my mouth, or over analyze his reaction to what does make it out. I mean I’ll overthink things regardless, but it’s just… alright to overthink around him. Because he knows that I’m always doing it. And he doesn’t judge me for it. At least based on the number of times he’s said that, which is enough that I’m beginning to maybe believe it.

Brock turns his head just enough to look in my direction from the side. We’ve been laying on his bed with our legs off the side, looking at the ceiling together for maybe the last five minutes. We like to do that when life is just being itself. It’s not a requirement to talk when we’re together. But honestly, I really like when he does.

“I’m about to fall asleep,” he groans. When I roll my head over, I meet the darkness of his heavy-lidded eyes.

“I know. I can already hear your snoring in my brain.”

The look that he gives me says “Really…”.

I stifle a snort but don’t say anything else. His beanie had fallen halfway off his head, letting some of his overgrown hair fluff out. Before I did anything Brock pulled it back down and over his face. My eyes didn’t leave him, the faded threads of his beanie above the straight bridge of his nose. Being in this room felt like home. Brock felt like being home. I never thought that we would become… everything that I needed. But I never feel more real than when I’m with him.

“What are you thinking about…?” he mumbles. There’s a tired grain in his voice that just…

What I’m thinking about—what I’m really thinking about… “Not much.”

What am I supposed to do? This isn’t just about him being my best friend. But he is my best friend. My best friend. I can’t be in love with my best friend. What would I even do about it? Nothing. I wouldn’t make it to the trust fall. Because I need to be able to look into his dark brown eyes every day and know that we’re in this together. No matter what.