Matteo set his fork down, a faint exhale escaping him as he leaned back in the chair. Felix, watching him with a tender gaze, gathered the plates carefully, the soft clink of porcelain the only sound in the quiet room.
"Let me take these," Felix said gently, stepping toward the door.
Matteo only nodded, his dark eyes following him with a weight that felt tangible.
Once Felix disappeared down the hall, Matteo rose and moved to the balcony.
The door slid open with a whisper. He lingered, shoulders tense at first, then slowly easing as the breeze brushed past.
He stared out over the city below, caught in thought.
He used to keep walls between them; now Felix stood open and fearless, and Matteo's chest tightened.
Regret tugged at him, small and sharp, like a dropped stitch he couldn't pull back.
But this moment—here and now—offered a chance to mend what was once left undone.
