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Somehow that only makes me cry harder

He drops the spoon and shoves off the couch, hurrying towardeach another, and four years of living together in this very apartment, I don't think I have ever cried in front of him Not once I usually lock et emotional, which isn't very often, and usually over some stupid work spat or problem

Nothing like this

He wraps his arht, fas I never tell hio, but he does He knows just how tightly to squeeze to let you know he's really there, that he really cares about you I sink against his chest and breathe in his scent He sent we use and the mint body wash he has in his bathroom, the one I always tease hi in black—black shower curtains, black towels, everything

He also smells, underneath all that, like him Like our apart best friend

I wrap my arms around his neck and cry harder

Cannon rubsshh over and over until my sobs finally diminish into hiccups, and then deep breaths, and then finally stop enough that I can lean back and wipemyself I've left a tear-stained patch on his shirt, and the y, which comes out half words half hiccups

In response, he si deal, Rina," he insists, even as he reaches for the hes it off over his head

Not like I haven't seen hies around this apartment in his boxers, soht stands over, cooking breakfast in his briefs But there's so different this ti on his shoulder It makes me look at hi pecs, and the way his biceps bulge as he tosses his shirt over the back of the couch

"See? Problehtly, drawingrooot you this riled up? I didn't even know you kne to cry"

I elbow him in the side even as I let hiht beside hiertips curled through entle and reassuring It feels good Better than good ItI've been through today, tense all over again

But for completely new reasons

Cannon? I think to ht Ridiculous We've been besties for years We've lived together for years

I've seen how he treats woo bar-hopping together, ind up back here with a new girl tagging along But he never sees theirl in this apart type

Then again

Neither a-tero as planned Every other relationship I've had has just been a series of casual hookups that go on for a couple weeks or months at most, before we decide to call it quits

We're si so well, as rooues, as friends

He wouldn't freak out like that guy in the parking lot, part of my brain coet ruffled, not once, not ever Not even when shit explodes at work and he's drowning under stress He handles everything with his usual casual grin, like the world is one big funny, occasionally frustrating joke that he's in on

"Hello? Earth to Rina" He nudgesroohts sincein here To my roommate, who I've walked past every day for the last four years, but who I'h whole new eyes

He's hot, he's smart, he's responsible And he's uncos for people, same way I don't He'd be the perfect donor, so to speak

Maybe I don't need a clinic's help after all

"Are you going to explain what all that was about?" He waves toward the door in general, then at ain, sure that I still look a co up this topic

"It's kind of a long story," I ad I hadn't noticed before A bra hooked over the back of the couch I laugh and lift an eyebrow at hi with my chin "Another souvenir?"

"Part of the down side of NSA Girls never coroans and reaches for it "I'll add it to the donation bin downstairs tomorrow"