SYMPATHY FOR THE DEVIL, J.HUGHES

TWENTY THREE

The aftermath, that's what we have to face now. Congrats, you dumbass. That's what I get for dressing up like I'm off my head.

He pulls away, sighing as he heads to the bathroom. Naked, he doesn't even bother to worry about someone walking in on us. Typical. It's classic him. There's this nonchalant air about him, like he's too cool to care. It was far from lovely and soft, but strangely enough, I loved it. Well, maybe not loved, but I definitely don't regret it.

We're supposed to be adults, aren't we? Well, maybe dumb adults, but I have this inkling that we can just sweep this night under the rug and carry on as if nothing happened. Because that's what I excel at, isn't it? Pretending like nothing happened.

I shrug on an oversized shirt, joining him in the bathroom. The room spins slightly, a reminder that I'm more than a little intoxicated. But I can't let it show too much, can I? I know I'll remember every second of this, and I can't afford to let my guard down.

As I stand there, I remember lying to him. He asked me if I ever thought of him while fucking with other guys. Of course I did, but I couldn't tell him that. It would have boosted his ego too much. Someone has to keep him in check, right?

He's already in the shower, the sound of water cascading echoing through the room. I lean against the sink, trying to collect my thoughts. What now? Do we just go back to pretending like nothing happened? Can we even do that?

I glance at my reflection in the mirror, the image staring back at me a blur of uncertainty and confusion. It's like I'm caught in this limbo between wanting more and wanting to forget. But deep down, I know things can't go back to the way they were before.

As he's scrubbing away in the shower, I catch him eyeing me through the glass. His blue eyes have this look, you know? Like he's trying to figure something out, but I can't quite put my finger on it. Maybe it's annoyance, or maybe it's just him being his usual guarded self.

I feel a bit awkward, standing there while he's giving me the silent treatment. But deep down, I know he's not trying to be mean. After all these years, I know him like the back of my hand. It's like I just have to look into his eyes and I can read his thoughts. Right now, it feels like his defense mechanism kicking in. He's trying to create distance between us, to prevent any possibility of catching feelings or whatever you want to call it.

I take a piss, the sound echoing in the quiet bathroom. I clear my throat, trying to coax him into speaking, but he remains stubbornly silent.

Deciding to give him his space, I figure it's probably for the best anyway. It's nearly midnight, and honestly, I'm more concerned about the fact that we left everyone at the party with just a brief wave than I am about the act itself.

As I'm looking for food in the fridge, I pull out my phone and open Snap, greeted by a flood of videos from Ethan and the gang joking around. There's one of Luke saying, "Tell me when you're done so I don't walk in on you on my kitchen table."

I chuckle and send Ethan a snap of my face with a light smile, captioned "Done ;)" Just a little reminder that they're not the only ones having a good time tonight.

If that happened, might as well laugh about it, right?

After what feels like forever, Jack finally emerges from the bathroom and heads to his bedroom to change into something more comfortable. I mind my own business, scrolling through my phone, answering some DMs, and posting on my story.

Not too long after, Jack reappears in the kitchen, shirtless but wearing shorts. I watch him in silence, sitting at the kitchen table. He takes out a tub of ice cream from the freezer, grabs a spoon, and settles himself at the opposite end of the table.