Beneath the clinking of his keys, as he opened the door to the house, moans resonated through the space.
The worst part? Paul wasn’t alone.
Jared’s world shattered into a million pieces, and a pain unlike anything he’d felt before crushed his entire existence.
Love wasn’t enough.
Not anymore.
4. The one with the homemade meal
Dylan had been watchingJared closely for a few days. He had no idea what was going on with him, but he was moody, exhaustion etched across his face.
It had been a hectic week at the office, but something told him it wasn’t work that was worrying his friend.
He’d been racking his brain the whole morning, even considered the possibility of Jared being sick after taking care of him. Though he seemed healthy as a tree—no coughing, runny nose or anything.
He’d also felt ashamed at one point. The vague memories of shit he shouldn’t have blurted while he was feverish made him think he had maybe overstepped a boundary or two and didn’t remember.
However, they still took their breaks together on the days they’d both been at the office and were swapping obnoxious jokes like always. Jared didn’t shy away from looking him in the eye either. Not even earlier that afternoon when they’d been alone in the lift after lunch—a space so small, Dylan didn’t know what to do with himself because all he wanted was to pin Jared against the wall and ravish his mouth.
Anyway, it was unlikely that whatever was going on with Jared was work-related, and there hadn’t been any weirdness between them that raised red flags. And although he was quitereserved, he’d sporadically talk to Dylan when he needed to vent. So, if someone in his family or a close friend was in trouble, he would have said something.
Whatever the reason, Jared wasn’t himself. His clothes were wrinkled, the bags under his eyes noticeable, and he’d been existing on sandwiches for a week.
“Everything okay?”
“Hm?” Jared asked as he took one of his earphones out.
“You good?”
“Yeah.” Jared nodded. “Why?”
“You look... tired.”
Jared chuckled bitterly. “Gee, thanks.”
“Sorry, I didn’t want to sound like a prick and say you look like shit.”
“But you are a prick.” He grinned, only confirming Dylan’s suspicions. Because as hard as he pretended to be okay, the cheekiness of his words didn’t reach his eyes. “And it’s not like it’s a lie.”
“Wanna talk?”
“I wouldn’t even know where to start.”
Now that’s a cry for help if I've ever heard one.“By buying me a beer after work,” Dylan said, grinning to keep it light.
“Sounds good,” he agreed, turning to his screen without sharing another word.
Time passed slower than ever, every minute making Dylan feel more and more anxious. Why? He had no fucking idea. Listening to people ramble about their problems wasn’t his favourite hobby, but he was truly worried.
In all the time he had known Jared, he had never looked so... disheartened. It was disturbing, like a bunch of spiders creeping under his skin.
Glancing at him from time to time, Dylan realized that after receiving several texts, Jared had changed his phone from vibration mode to silent. Yet it kept lighting up. Someone waseager to talk to him. The feeling didn’t seem mutual, though, as his jaw continued clenching and unclenching every time he peeked at the device.
“Fuck this shit,” Jared grumbled, pushing his rolling chair away from the table and letting his arms fall limp at his sides. They still had twenty minutes left of their shift, but he was clearly not having it, and Dylan was more than ready to finish for the day.
“Should we get going?” he offered.
