The room was quiet, broken only by the distant hum of the refrigerator. Semiel sank onto the couch, phone in hand, its screen casting a faint glow on his face in the dim light. He'd closed the chat with Saval a few minutes ago, but he kept scrolling back through it, searching those dry lines for some clue, some reassurance—anything.
Why does he feel so far away again? Before… before I could message him without overthinking, and he'd reply with some silly nonsense that made me laugh.
He took a deep breath, resting his forehead in his palm. Antonella's words echoed in his head, even though he hadn't been there to hear them. "Be careful who you trust." He'd found out because Saval mentioned it in passing, like it was nothing—but to Semiel, it felt like everything.
—It doesn't make sense that this affects me so much —he whispered, setting the phone down on the table.
He stood and walked to the window, pushing the curtain aside slightly. The city lights blinked like tiny broken promises. So much had happened since that last night they spent together, since things felt… good. Now everything seemed full of invisible cracks.
He took another breath, trying to sort through the thoughts crowding mercilessly in his mind. What did she mean? Why warn him? Why does it feel like that warning was meant for me, too?
He returned to the couch and dropped onto it, lacing his fingers behind his head as he stared at the ceiling. He needed something to ground him, something to tell him there was still room for both of them in each other's lives. But Saval felt distant. He could sense it in his words, in the pauses, in that "I'm fine" that sounded more like a wall.
His phone vibrated, and for a second his heart leapt. But it wasn't Saval. Just a meaningless notification from some app he didn't even remember installing. He laughed humorlessly, rubbing his face.
—I'm such an idiot —he murmured.
On the table lay an open notebook, turned to the last page he'd written on days ago. He leaned over and picked it up. The words he'd left there seemed to scream back at him: scattered phrases, thoughts he'd never dared say aloud.
He wrote something new, without overthinking it:
"If you knew how much you meant to me, would you still treat me like this? Or would it be easier for you to just walk away?"
He read the line over and over before closing the notebook. He set it aside like a secret too heavy to hold any longer.
He stood again, pacing the apartment like a caged animal. He needed a distraction, but nothing seemed to work lately—not streaming, not games, not the shows that used to absorb him for hours. Everything felt hollow.
He stopped in front of the hallway mirror and stared at his reflection. There was something in his eyes he didn't like: exhaustion, but also a kind of emptiness that scared him.
—When did everything get so complicated? —he said softly, as if his reflection might answer.
The image offered only silence.
He returned to the couch and sank back into the cushions. He thought about messaging Saval again—something simple, something that didn't sound desperate. "How are you holding up?" …No. He'd already asked that. "Want to meet up tomorrow?" …Not that either. What if he said no? What if he said yes but felt obligated?
He sighed, closing his eyes. For a moment, he imagined things going back to how they were before: shared laughter, absurd plans, the feeling that nothing in the world could break them. But when he opened his eyes, all he found was the ceiling and the darkness growing around him.
His phone vibrated again. This time, he didn't check it. He didn't want to be disappointed again when he saw it wasn't Saval.
How long are you going to keep this up? he asked himself, turning on the couch to face the window. The lights were still out there, as if nothing had changed. As if everything were the same. But he knew it wasn't. Nothing was the same.
He closed his eyes and let the silence envelop him. Somewhere in that stillness, he wished with everything he had that Saval would reach out again. That he'd do it without obligation, without doubt. Just because he wanted to.
Because Semiel—even if he didn't dare say it out loud—still wanted him more than anyone.