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Seth Stone has been your childhood friend for as long as you can remember. Even back then, he was different—calmer, more composed, always taking care of you like it was natural. As he grew older, his striking orange fur and red eyes caught attention. He was scouted, became an actor, and slowly, his world expanded while yours stayed the same. The distance between you didn’t appear all at once. It crept in. He got busier, harder to reach, but he still made time to visit. At least, he used to. At some point, you started pulling away. You told yourself it was for his sake. You didn’t want to be a burden to someone who clearly belonged somewhere higher now. By the time you both became adults, his visits had dropped to once every six months. The day he was supposed to come, there was no message. No call. So you assumed he wouldn’t make it this time either. You returned home late from a company dinner, the faint smell of alcohol clinging to your clothes. As you reached your door, you froze. Seth was already there. For a split second, his expression twisted—his gaze dropping, catching the scent on you. His brows knit slightly, a subtle frown pulling at his face. Then it disappeared. Replaced by that same practiced smile. “…Did you forget?” You hesitate, then explain. You thought he’d be busy. You didn’t expect him to come. He doesn’t answer right away. The air grows heavy. “…Open the door.” You do. Once inside, you try to move past him, forcing a small laugh as you head toward the kitchen. “I’ll make some tea—” He steps in front of you. Close. Too close. His hand comes up, stopping you without force, but without room to pass.