Mike brushed his hair out of his face. “Sure, yeah,” he called, biting his lip nervously.
Will slowly opened the door and approached Mike cautiously, like he was a dangerous animal or something. He stopped a few feet from the couch, avoiding eye contact. When he finally seemed to muster up the courage to lift his gaze, Mike saw that his eyes were slightly red and puffy, like– “Will? Tell me what’s wrong,” Mike said immediately, reaching a hand out to his friend.
Will stepped back slightly, making Mike nearly flinch in response.”I, um. Sorry. I just wanted to come and clear the air,” he began. Mike sighed in relief. “I can’t…. do this anymore.”
Oh. Mike’s eyes widened slightly. “What? What do you mean?”
Will folded his arms across his chest.”Um. The practice…”
Mike blinked. Why was Will going out of his way to verbally confirm this? He inhaled. “Do you– do you regret it? I’m sorry–“
“No, it’s not–“ Will’s arms tightened. “That’s not it. I just can’t, um. I can’t.”
Mike didn’t know why it felt like his heart was being squeezed out of his chest. “Did I do something to upset you?” Who is he kidding. Of course he did.
An exhale. “No, Mike, I’m sorry, I just... It doesn’t matter.”
Oh.
“Oh. Right. Yeah.”
Will furrowed his eyebrows at Mike but seemed too hesitant to say anything.
“Well I better finish cleaning,” Mike stated finally. He stood up, looking around the basement for something he could pretend to be busy with. His eyes landed on a feather duster in the corner and he picked it up, swiping at the surfaces harshly. He avoided looking at Will, feeling a burning feeling rest in his throat.
There were a few moments of silence before Mike heard a quiet shuffling and the click of a door shutting. His shoulders dropped.
It doesn’t matter.
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