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**Chapter 55: Unraveling**
*Safari's POV*
Safari had always prided himself on being observant, especially when it came to Bing. The quiet strength Bing exuded was one of the things that drew Safari to them, the way they carried themselves with such calm professionalism. But lately, something had changed, and Safari couldn't ignore it any longer.
Bing was still the same efficient, capable worker they had always been, but there were cracks in the facade. Little things that Safari might have dismissed if they weren't so out of character. Bing had become more withdrawn, more focused on their work to the point of obsession. They avoided social interactions whenever possible, keeping to themselves even more than usual. It was subtle, but Safari noticed.
The biggest red flag, though, was how tired Bing looked. It wasn't just the occasional yawn or the dark circles under their eyes—Bing was exhausted in a way Safari hadn't seen before. They moved slower, their usual sharpness dulled by whatever was weighing them down.
At first, Safari chalked it up to stress. Everyone was feeling the pressure lately, with the competition between the teams heating up and deadlines looming. But as the days turned into weeks, it became clear that this was more than just stress. Something was wrong, and Safari's concern was growing by the day.
That evening, Safari watched Bing out of the corner of his eye as they worked side by side. Bing was staring intently at their screen, their fingers moving quickly over the keyboard, but there was a stiffness to their posture, a tension that had settled into their shoulders and refused to let go.
"Bing," Safari said softly, not wanting to startle them. Bing didn't look up, but Safari could see the slight pause in their typing, the way their shoulders tightened even more. "You've been pushing yourself really hard lately. Are you sure you're okay?"
Bing hesitated, their fingers hovering over the keys for a moment before they resumed typing. "I'm fine," they replied, their voice flat, almost robotic. "Just a lot to get done."
Safari frowned, not buying the response for a second. He knew Bing too well to be fooled by their deflections. "You know you can talk to me, right? If something's bothering you... I'm here."
This time, Bing did look up, meeting Safari's gaze with a tired smile that didn't reach their eyes. "I know, Safari. Thank you. But really, I'm fine."
Safari wanted to push further, to insist that Bing talk to him, but he could see the resistance in Bing's eyes, the way they were holding themselves together by sheer force of will. Safari nodded, deciding not to press the issue—at least not yet. But he wasn't going to let it go either.
As the days passed, Safari's concern deepened. Bing's behavior became more erratic, the signs of stress more pronounced. They started skipping meals, claiming they weren't hungry, even though Safari could hear their stomach growling during meetings. They began making small mistakes, things Bing would never have overlooked before. And the tiredness—it was like a permanent shadow, dulling their once bright eyes and slowing their usually quick movements.
One evening, after a particularly long day, Safari found Bing in their office, staring blankly at the screen. Bing hadn't even bothered to turn on the lights, and the glow from the monitor cast harsh shadows across their face.
"Bing, are you still working?" Safari asked, flicking on the light. Bing blinked, as if they hadn't even realized the room was dark.
"Just finishing up," Bing mumbled, their voice heavy with exhaustion. But when Safari looked closer, he could see that the document on the screen hadn't been touched in hours.
"Come on," Safari said gently, reaching out to take Bing's hand. "You need to rest. You're running yourself into the ground."
Bing didn't protest, which worried Safari even more. They let him pull them up from the chair and lead them out of the office, their steps slow and unsteady. When they reached Safari's apartment, Bing seemed to collapse into the couch, as if they didn't have the energy to keep up the facade anymore.
Safari sat down beside them, watching as Bing leaned back, closing their eyes. For a moment, there was silence, the only sound the soft ticking of the clock on the wall.
"Bing," Safari began, unsure of how to broach the subject. "I know you said you're fine, but... I don't think you are. You don't have to tell me what's going on, but I can see it's hurting you. I'm worried about you."
Bing opened their eyes, looking at Safari with a mixture of gratitude and something else—something darker that made Safari's heart ache. "It's just... a lot," Bing finally said, their voice barely above a whisper. "I'm trying to keep it together, but... I don't know how much longer I can."
Safari felt a pang of helplessness. He wanted to do something, anything to ease Bing's burden, but he didn't know what that was. Instead, he reached out, pulling Bing into a tight embrace. "You don't have to do it alone," Safari murmured against Bing's hair. "I'm here. Whatever it is, we'll get through it together."
Bing didn't respond, but they didn't pull away either. They just leaned into Safari's warmth, their breath coming in shaky but steadying with each passing second. Safari held them close, feeling the tension slowly drain from Bing's body as they finally allowed themselves to relax, if only for a moment.
The next few days followed a similar pattern. Bing would push themselves to the limit during the day, and Safari would be there to pick up the pieces in the evening. It wasn't a sustainable routine, and Safari knew it. But he also knew that Bing wasn't ready to talk, wasn't ready to confront whatever was haunting them. So Safari gave them space, offering support in the only way he knew how—by being there, by holding Bing when they needed it, by offering a quiet strength that he hoped would help Bing find their own again.
But as the days turned into weeks, Safari could see that something had to give. Bing was wearing down, the cracks in their facade widening with each passing day. And Safari was growing more and more worried, knowing that he couldn't protect Bing from whatever storm was coming.
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