Keith didn't move right away, his eyes searching mine in the dim light filtering through the window. The darkness of the room cocooned us, the small space feeling even more intimate as I stood there, barely breathing.

"I mean it, Lance," Keith said softly, his voice serious in a way that made my chest tighten. "You've been acting like you've forgotten what it feels like to be cared about. You can't keep that to yourself."

I swallowed hard, my voice catching in my throat. "It's not like I've forgotten... I just..." I didn't know how to explain it. I wanted to say that it wasn't about love, or that I was just tired, but the truth was there, looming too close. "It's hard to let people in, you know?"

Keith nodded, his hand still resting lightly on my arm. "I know. But you don't have to do it alone."

He tugged me toward his bed, and we sat down on the edge, our knees almost touching. The weight of everything that had been gnawing at me—school, pressure, feeling like I wasn't enough—settled in the space between us, but for once, it didn't feel unbearable. Keith was right there, like he always had been, and something about his presence made it easier to breathe.

I looked down at my hands, picking at the loose thread on my sleeve. "I don't know how to ask for help," I admitted. "Not without feeling like a burden."

"You're not a burden." Keith's voice was firm, and when I looked up, his eyes were serious, focused. "You never were."

His words hit me harder than I expected, and for a moment, I didn't know what to say. I'd spent so long convincing myself that I had to carry everything on my own, that I couldn't lean on anyone, not even the people closest to me. But Keith saw right through that, like he always did.

"You don't have to fix everything by yourself," he added, his voice softening. "Let me help you."

I felt a lump rising in my throat, and I nodded, not trusting my voice. Keith's hand slid down my arm, his fingers curling gently around mine. The warmth of his touch sent a shiver through me, and I found myself leaning into him, like I'd been waiting for this moment without even realizing it.

He shifted closer, his thigh pressing against mine, and when I looked up, our faces were inches apart. The air between us felt charged, like something was about to happen, and for the first time in a long while, I didn't feel scared. I felt... ready.

"You really mean that?" I whispered, my voice barely audible in the quiet room. "That I'm not a burden?"

Keith's gaze was steady, his eyes softening as he nodded. "I mean it."

For a second, neither of us moved. The only sound in the room was our breathing, slow and synchronized, and in that stillness, I felt something shift. The space between us seemed to disappear, and before I knew it, Keith was leaning in, his hand cupping my cheek.

The moment his lips brushed mine, something inside me unraveled. It was soft at first, tentative, like he was waiting for me to pull away. But I didn't. Instead, I closed the distance between us, kissing him back with a kind of quiet desperation I hadn't known was there.

Keith's hand slid around to the back of my neck, pulling me closer, and I sank into him, letting the weight of the past few weeks fall away. His lips were warm, gentle, but there was something deeper underneath it, something that felt like home.

We pulled apart just enough to breathe, and I could feel his breath warm against my lips. He rested his forehead against mine, his thumb brushing lightly against my cheek.

"I'm here, Lance," he whispered. "I'm always here."

The sincerity in his voice made my heart ache, and I reached up to thread my fingers through his hair, pulling him into another kiss. This time, it was deeper, more certain, and when he responded, something inside me sparked to life.

We tumbled back onto the bed, our legs tangling together as we moved. Keith's hands slid under my shirt, his touch sending shivers down my spine, and I arched into him, craving more of his warmth, his closeness. His mouth trailed down my neck, each kiss soft and deliberate, like he was memorizing the feel of my skin.

I could feel my pulse quickening, my heart racing in my chest, but it wasn't out of fear. It was something else—something electric that buzzed through every nerve in my body. Keith's hands were everywhere, tracing the lines of my body, grounding me in the present moment, and I found myself getting lost in the sensation of him, in the way his lips felt against mine, the way his hands held me like I was something precious.

"Keith..." I whispered, my voice catching in my throat. "I..."

He pulled back just enough to look at me, his eyes searching mine. "It's okay," he murmured, his voice low and reassuring. "You don't have to say anything."

But I wanted to. I wanted to tell him how much this meant to me, how much he meant to me. How long I'd been holding onto feelings I didn't even know I had. But instead, I kissed him again, letting the weight of everything I felt flow through that connection.

As we lay together, our bodies pressed close, the room seemed to fade away. It was just us, lost in this moment, and for the first time in what felt like forever, I felt like I could breathe. Like I didn't have to carry everything by myself. Keith was here, and that was enough.