Hiii, so this is my first time writing a fanfic lol! I hope you enjoyyyyy!————————————————————————The room had that quiet, heavy feeling that only came from staying in it too long.
Curtains half-drawn. Air unmoving. The kind of stillness that pressed against your chest and made everything feel slower, harder.
You hadn’t gotten out of bed.
Not really.
Your body was there, curled into itself beneath the blankets, staring at nothing in particular while your thoughts ran in circles you couldn’t escape.
A soft knock broke through the silence.
You didn’t answer.
Another knock, slightly louder this time.
“baby?”
Of course it was him.
“I know you’re in there,” Chris called, quieter now. “Your car’s outside.”
You exhaled slowly, debating whether to pretend you weren’t home. But that never worked with him.
The door creaked open anyway.
You didn’t move as he stepped inside, his presence immediately shifting the atmosphere of the room. Not completely, but enough to notice.
He paused for a second, taking it all in.
“…Okay,” he muttered under his breath. “yeah, this isn’t happening.”
You groaned into your pillow. “Go away, Chris.”
“No.”
The mattress dipped slightly as he sat on the edge of the bed. You could feel his eyes on you, waiting.
“You’ve been ignoring me all day,” he said.
“I told you I’m not going,” you mumbled, your voice muffled.
“I’m not talking about the party anymore.”
That made you pause.
Slowly, you turned your head just enough to look at him.
His expression wasn’t annoyed. Or pushy.
Just… concerned.
“Then what are you talking about?” you asked quietly.
“You,” he said simply.
You looked away again.
“I’m fine.”
“Yeah,” he let out a small breath. “you don’t look fine.”
Silence stretched between you, thick and uncomfortable.
You picked at the fabric of your blanket. “I just don’t feel like being around people.”
“Then don’t,” he shrugged. “I don’t care about the party.”
You frowned slightly, glancing back at him. “You’ve been trying to get me to go all week.”
“Because I wanted you there,” he said. “Not because I care about some random party.”
Your chest tightened.
“I just…” you hesitated. “I don’t feel like myself lately.”
He didn’t interrupt.
“I don’t wanna go out and pretend I’m okay when I’m not.”
Chris nodded slowly, like he understood more than he was letting on.
“Then don’t pretend,” he said.
You gave him a tired look. “It’s not that easy.”
“I know,” he replied softly.
For a moment, neither of you spoke.
Then he leaned forward slightly, resting his elbows on his knees, thinking.
“…Can you sit up for me?” he asked.
You blinked. “What?”
“Just sit up.”
You stared at him like he’d lost it. “Chris—”
“Please.”
There was something different in his voice. Not demanding.
Gentle. Steady.
Reluctantly, you pushed yourself up, your body protesting the movement. The blanket fell to your lap as you sat there, shoulders slumped.
“See?” he said quietly. “That wasn’t so bad.”
“Don’t get used to it.”
A small smile tugged at his lips.
“Stand up.”
You let out a short laugh. “Absolutely not.”
“Come on.”
“No.”
“babe.”
You shook your head, but he was already reaching for your hands.
“Chris—”
“Trust me,” he said.
His grip wasn’t forceful, just firm enough to pull you forward. You resisted for a second, but not fully, never fully with him.
Eventually, your feet hit the floor.
You stood there, slightly unsteady, staring at him.
“Happy?” you muttered.
“Getting there.”
Before you could question him again, soft music started playing from his phone, filling the quiet room.
You recognized it instantly.
You groaned. “You’re kidding.”
He shook his head, stepping closer.
“Dance with me.”
“I’m not dancing.”
“You are.”
“I literally just got out of bed—”
“All the more reason.”
You tried to step back, but his hands found yours, warm and grounding.
“Chris…”
“Just one minute,” he said softly. “That’s it.”
You hesitated.
Then..barely, you nodded.
His hands moved carefully, one resting at your waist, the other holding yours as he guided you into a slow, easy rhythm.
At first, your body felt stiff, uncooperative.
Your mind kept trying to pull you back under.
“This is stupid,” you mumbled.
“Yeah,” he agreed lightly. “but you’re still doing it.”
You huffed, but didn’t pull away.
His movements stayed slow, steady, giving you time to adjust. Time to feel instead of think.
“Stop overthinking it,” he murmured. “just follow me.”
Easier said than done.
But gradually—without you realizing—it got easier.
Your steps matched his.
Your shoulders relaxed.
Your breathing evened out.
“You see?” he said quietly.
You didn’t answer right away.
Because for the first time all day, your head wasn’t so loud.
It was just the music.
And him.
And the way his presence made everything feel… lighter.
“You’re really annoying,” you said finally.
He smiled. “And yet, here you are. Dancing with me.”
You rolled your eyes, but there was no bite to it.
His hand tightened slightly around yours as he spun you gently, pulling you back in—closer this time.
Not overwhelming.
Just enough to remind you he was there.
“I missed this,” he admitted.
You blinked. “Missed what?”
“You,” he said simply.
Your heart did that quiet, unexpected thing again.
The room didn’t feel as suffocating anymore.
It wasn’t fixed.
Nothing magically disappeared.
But it didn’t feel impossible either.
“…I still don’t wanna go to that party,” you said.
“Good,” he replied. “we’re not going.”
You looked at him, surprised.
“Then why—”
“Because I wanted you to move,” he said softly. “Even just a little.”
You glanced down at your feet, still stepping in time with his.
“…I guess it worked.”
“Yeah,” he smiled. “I know.”
And for once—
you didn’t feel completely stuck.
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