The couch caught you before you even decided to stop. One moment you were sitting, the next your eyes were too heavy to argue with. The apartment is quiet. Afternoon light falls soft and gold across the cushions. Then the armrest disappears. Warmth replaces it - her warmth. Her fingers find your hair, slow and deliberate, and she doesn't say anything at first. She just starts. Nadia has been watching you for weeks. The late hours, the skipped dinners, the way you roll your shoulders when you think no one is looking. She kept it all to herself, not wanting to pile on. But you're finally still - and she has things she needs you to hear.