Rain continued falling softly around them.
Cold drops sliding from rooftops.
From traffic lights.
From Chri's dark hair.
The street had emptied slightly now.
People passed occasionally beside them with umbrellas, barely paying attention.
But for ***—
the entire world had narrowed down to one single person standing in front of him.
For several seconds neither moved.
Neither spoke.
Then finally—
very quietly—
*** said:
"…Chri."
The name sounded fragile.
Like something abandoned too long.
Chri's expression didn't change.
Not even slightly.
He simply looked away.
Almost annoyed.
Then he started walking again.
Like this conversation was already over.
Panic immediately tightened inside ***'s chest.
Without thinking—
he reached forward and grabbed Chri directly by the arm.
Firmly.
Not violent.
Desperate.
Chri stopped instantly.
His jaw tightened.
Then slowly he looked down at the hand gripping him.
And with visible irritation—
he muttered:
"…Hearing you talk…"
His eyes finally lifted toward *** again.
"…you really are the same old Cri."
The sentence hit harder than shouting would have.
Because of how tired Chri sounded saying it.
*** blinked slightly.
Confused.
Hurt.
"…What?"
No response.
The rain filled the silence between them instead.
*** swallowed slightly.
Then awkwardly asked:
"…How are you?"
The question sounded wrong immediately.
Too small for everything between them.
Chri stared at him silently.
And several painfully awkward seconds passed.
Long enough for the discomfort to become physical.
Then suddenly—
*** added quickly:
"…I'm okay."
Lie.
Terrible lie.
Both of them knew it instantly.
Chri looked away again immediately after hearing it.
Like even listening had become exhausting.
Then he tried pulling his arm free.
"…I have to go."
But *** tightened his grip slightly instead.
"Wait."
Chri's irritation visibly grew now.
***'s breathing became uneven again.
"I changed."
The words came out rushed.
Messy.
"I know I fucked up before but I'm trying now."
Silence.
"I swear things can get better."
Rainwater slid slowly down his face.
Or maybe it was sweat.
Or tears.
Even he didn't know anymore.
"I'm trying so hard to—"
Suddenly—
Chri turned toward him sharply.
And the look in his eyes stopped *** immediately.
Not hatred.
Worse.
Exhaustion.
Deep emotional exhaustion.
And quietly—
with brutal honesty—
Chri said:
"…Since you disappeared from my life…"
A pause.
"…I sleep better."
*** froze completely.
Chri continued calmly.
"I live better."
Another pause.
"I don't constantly worry anymore."
Rain tapped softly against the pavement around them.
"And honestly?"
For the first time—
there was actual coldness in Chri's expression now.
"I prefer it this way."
The sentence landed like a knife directly into ***'s chest.
"No drama."
"No emotional breakdowns."
"No constantly trying to save someone who doesn't even want help."
Silence.
"…No disturbances."
*** slowly let go of Chri's arm.
His breathing becoming unstable now.
Because somehow—
this hurt more than abandonment itself.
Hearing someone sound relieved without you.
Then suddenly—
anger rose through the pain.
Sharp.
Defensive.
"You're such a narcissist."
The sentence escaped before he could stop it.
Chri's expression changed instantly.
His eyes darkened sharply.
"…Excuse me?"
"You left."
*** took a step closer now.
His voice cracking between anger and desperation.
"You left and now you act like you're the victim."
Chri laughed once.
A short humorless laugh.
Then immediately—
his face hardened.
"…Che ipocrita da parte tua."
The sentence came out cold.
Direct.
And instantly—
*** froze.
"What did you say?"
Chri shrugged slightly.
Like he genuinely didn't care anymore.
*** took another step forward.
"Say it again."
His voice louder now.
Sharper.
Rain continued falling around them.
"Say it out loud."
Chri didn't move.
Didn't look away.
He stared directly into ***'s eyes.
Then repeated it slowly.
"…Che ipocrita da parte tua."
The silence afterward felt almost violent.
*** clenched his fists tightly.
"What the hell does that mean?"
Chri uncrossed his arms slowly.
Straightening slightly.
And for the first time since the conversation began—
his lazy detached tone disappeared completely.
"You know exactly what it means."