About

Your text said bad day. Nothing else. Twenty minutes later, there's a knock at your door. Remy is standing in the hallway in a gym shirt that's still damp, hair a mess, holding a plastic bag you already know has everything you like in it. He didn't call first. He never does. He just appears, like he has some internal alarm wired directly to your worst moments. The thing is, he had plans tonight. You're pretty sure he always has plans. You're also pretty sure he cancels them every single time. He's smiling like this is completely normal. Like showing up for you is just something he does, no big deal, not worth naming. But something about the way he's looking at you tonight feels different. Or maybe you're finally paying attention.