the art of letting go

twentyone - distance

the art of distance

- - -

Getting over any stupid nerves, I approached Nico's apartment building with sweaty palms. I couldn't believe I was being so dramatic over something as stupid as going around to his place, which he'd asked me to do. We were just friends, it meant nothing.

However, I wasn't given time to panic as I spotted Nico speaking, grabbing his mail from the reception desk, speaking to the woman sitting there. He was wearing a black button up, sleeves rolled up just far enough to expose the dark tattoos on his arms. A couple strands of brown hair have slipped free from his hair bun. My mind goes blank at the sight of him, and I halt mid step.

Before I could turn around and move as far away from this place as humanly possible, Nico chose to turn his head around and noticed me standing there like a freak. His eyes grew wide, the distance between us evaporating within a split second as Nico headed towards me, beaming.

"You came." He murmured, in utter disbelief. One of his hands reached out for a moment, hesitant, before stopping and moving back towards his side. "I didn't think you'd show."

Neither did I, I wanted to say, but I kept my mouth wired shut.

I shrugged.

"I like your shirt." He said, face bright and open. It shocked me how genuinely happy he was. I was wearing one of the first Fallen Temple shirts that Sacha and Kareem had gotten made.

"Thank you," I managed to force out, pointing to his complementary gym shirt. The boxing gym gave them out to all of the main fighters. "I like yours too."

Can this be any more awkward?

If it was even possible, his smile widened, eyes gleaming with delight.

"Let me just put these in my apartment and then we can go. Is that okay?" He asked politely, holding up the mail in his left hand.

I nodded my head, giving him a soft smile as he just gave me that look again.

I watched him head towards the elevator, sure that my own dopey smile was about to break my face in half with how weird it felt. A part of me felt too happy to care, happy that I could do something for him for once. I settled into an empty chair in the lounge as I waited for Nico to get back.

Thinking back to the way he looked at me, almost like he was in awe, my thoughts drifted back to what Frankie had said just a few weeks ago: It's kind of funny, really. It's been five years, but he still looks at you like you've got his whole universe wrapped up in your hands.

Moments like this just made me even more certain that it's true.

My phone buzzed.

spilled juice on my shirt so need to find a clean one. meet you at the cafe?

Shaking my head in exasperation, I just sent him a quick agreement before heading towards the place we were supposed to meet the others.

I'd ordered our usual before finding an open booth. I'd been waiting for around ten minutes before I got bored.

I checked my phone again, opening the group chat. As I started to write a message to inquire about everyone's presence, the cafe door jingled. I looked up at the sound and couldn't help the smile forming on my face. He's changed into a black polo shirt that looked surprisingly good (not that much of a surprise).

"Hey, love. I'm really sorry about that." Nico said upon reaching the table, a matching smile on his face. He climbed into the booth, squeezing my shoulder. "You look good."