Awesome! I’ll write the story as soon as I can! (ETA Friday or Saturday)

First of all, thank you so much for responding! Second of all, you are so right. I am mortified I even considered toying with Amy’s feelings like this. I had a clue that it might hurt her feelings, but I wasn’t thinking straight. I am going to keep our friendship platonic, and I will not be testing ANY waters. I’m glad that I asked you guys before I did anything!
Again—thank you for your advice. I am truly in debt to you!

Aww, I’m glad you guys liked it! ❤️

[I don't think I need any context for this one. Enjoy the story!]

“Well, I’m sorry that my presence bothers you! Would it be best if I tried not to exist?!” Edward yells, throwing his hands up.

“No, of course not! I’m just saying that I need some space every once in a while! You can’t keep smothering me all the time!” Rachel shouts back, anger swelling within her small frame. Rosie, their cocker spaniel, whimpers from the corner of the room and paws at her ears as if the shouting is hurting her ears. Rachel feels a pang of regret, but the anger quickly returns.

“This apartment is a freaking 500 square feet! How am I supposed to give you any space?!” Edward gestures around at the small apartment in exasperation.

“Oh, I don’t know, maybe you could leave!” Rachel storms over to the front door and jerks it open. She stands there, nostrils flared, fire in her eyes.

Edward’s stomach drops. Some of his anger dissipates. “You don’t mean leave for good, right?” He asks in a low voice, holding his hand out as if to steady himself.

Rachel doesn’t back down or close the door. “Maybe I do. I’m sick of being around you.” She speaks slowly and deliberately.

The words cut straight through Edward, and he fights against the sudden burning behind his eyes--a sensation he hasn’t felt since he was a teenager. “You don’t mean that.” He whispers, fighting to keep his voice steady. Any show of weakness now might ruin everything.

“Yes, I do,” Rachel says, but Edward hears the slight quaver in her voice--she doesn’t completely want this.

[color=#000000]“Rachel,” Edward’s voice cracks, and he pauses to breathe. He focuses his gaze on the ground in hopes that she doesn’t notice the tears swimming i

[Context: Doug and Kevin are at a bar. Kevin is only drinking Pepsi, since he's the designated driver. It's Friday night, so their wives are preparing dinner at Kevin's home. They always eat dinner together on Friday nights.]

“Hey. Are you okay, Doug?”

Doug startles out of his daze and looks at Kevin. “Huh? Yeah, I’m fine.”

Kevin raises an eyebrow. He mindlessly moves his glass in circular motions, stirring the Pepsi. “Alright. You just look like you have something on your mind, that’s all.”

“Hm. Just a hard day at work, you know.” In one swift motion, Doug downs his scotch, winces, and gestures for the bartender to fill his glass again. The bartender wordlessly fills the glass and sets it in front of Doug.

“There’s a reason I stopped working as a counselor. That job was wearing me down to a nub. It’s much easier being a clinical psychologist--I only get to see a patient once every few months, we talk about how the meds are working, and decide what dosage is right for them.” Kevin stares somewhere behind the bar, then meets Doug’s eyes.

Doug shrugs. “I like being a counselor. I feel like I make more of a difference.” He takes a sip of his scotch.

“You probably do,” Kevin admits. He waits a few seconds before speaking again. “So, what happened today? The parts you can tell me, at least.”

Sighing, Doug reaches into his back pocket and pulls out his wallet. He takes out some cash and lays it on the counter. “C’mon. I can’t talk about it in here."

[color=#000000]Kevin pays for his own drinks, and the two men throw on their coats before leaving the bar. They exit the bar and shiver as the frosty air hits them. Kevin wraps an arm around his friend’s shoulders to ensure that Doug doesn’t slip and fall on a patch of ice. A couple wal