I look at the shoes.Messy.
I leave them like that.
I walk into the kitchen, pushing open the balcony doors. The sheer curtains move with the wind, the hanging plants swaying lazily from their hooks. I draw in a long breath, letting the air fill my lungs to capacity. I glance back into the hall, seeing the shoes still sprawled across the floor.
A laugh tears out of me before I know it’s coming, almost maniacal. It sounds strained even to my own ears, but I can’t stop. All at once, it hits me how absurd it is. How I’ve bent and trimmed pieces of myself for someone who never really cared forme. How I spent years rearranging my life to fit into the narrow space of his approval.
The laugh keeps coming, raw and unstoppable, until it leaves me standing there with my stomach aching and my mouth sore from the force of it.
I’m still staring at the hall, when the front door clicks open. Noah steps inside, hair damp from the misting rain, cheeks flushed from the cold. His eyes drop to the small heap of shoes by the door. He tilts his head and looks at them—then at me—and a slow, mischievous grin curves across his face.
Without a word, he kicks his sneakers off with vigor, sending them flying, the laces tangling with mine. I slap a hand over my mouth to stop the laugh that wants to come. I don’t know if I’m happy or if I’ve lost it altogether.
Next, he drops his gym bag on top of them, which topples over too. His grin widens as he straightens.
“Hi,” I say, like he didn’t see me falling apart yesterday, like I didn’t wrap my arms around him from behind this morning and breathe a quiet thanks into his neck.
The memory of that makes my ears heat.
“Hi,” he says, stepping closer, eyes searching mine. “How are you?”
There’s genuine care in his voice, and it calms my warring emotions.
I pause, taking stock of myself and eventually nod. “Okay, I think. How was opening day?”
His eyes light up when I ask. “Un-fucking-believable! It was crazy, so many people came. Me and Aiden spent the day smiling like a couple of idiots.”
That makes me laugh, my heart swells with happiness and pride for them. “That’s great. I’m proud of you two.”
His eyes gleam as his smile morphs into something warmer. “Thanks, Gabe. That means a lot.”
I looked down at my feet, suddenly feeling shy but not understanding why. When I raise my eyes, Noah is pulling his hoodie over his head, and it snags on his tank, lifting it slightly, showing his sculpted abdomen and dusting of golden hair at his navel. I turn around and clear my throat. “You must be tired after such a big day, want food or some tea?”
I hear his low chuckle behind me. “Actually… I was thinking we could celebrate.”
My mind starts racing. How would he want to celebrate? He probably wants to go out somewhere. My stomach churns.
When I look at him, he gives me a quick smile and disappears into his room. I hear him rifling around. I wipe my clammy hands on my pants and take a breath.
Noah comes back carrying a black case and cables. He’s trying to act casual, but he’s failing. He lifts the case a little when he catches me looking.
“Confession,” he says. “I… have been keeping this under my bed.”
“Your bed?” It comes out more confused than anything.
He grimaces. “Yeah. Didn’t want to hog your TV or be noisy. And it’s your place.”
“It’s our place,” I say before I can overthink it. The words hit both of us at the same time. He looks surprised but covers it with a crooked half-smile.
“Right,” he says softly. “Still. I wasn’t sure.”
“What is it?”
He brightens. “A Switch.” He taps the case. “Portable gaming. Minimal cable mess, I promise. I can set it up in like thirty seconds and put it away just as fast.” He looks at me carefully again. “If you’re up for it.”
I was never a gamer. I should just tell him I’m tired. I am. But I’m also wired, and I don’t want to be alone right now.
“What would we play?”
