Crimson Bonds

5

Lonely Heart

"Wake up."

Someone is shaking Peter's shoulder with unnecessary force. The jolt makes his heart skip a beat, and he groggily opens one eye to see Anouk standing beside him, her handbag already slung over her shoulder, impatience etched across her face. Her usually kind eyes are now narrowed with disapproval.

"Come on, everyone's leaving!" she insists, her voice a mixture of frustration and concern. She mirrors his half-awake pout, her blonde brow furrowed.

"You should've just skipped class if you were going to sleep through it," she adds sternly, crossing her arms. "It's disrespectful to the professor."

Peter groans, stretching as he slowly straightens up, his body protesting every movement. "I would've, if the professor didn't take attendance," he mutters, stifling a yawn with a clawed hand.

"It was our last lecture," Anouk says, already grabbing Peter's bag and heading for the exit. Peter follows, still trying to shake off the remnants of his interrupted nap. "You can go sleep in your own bed now."

Peter takes his bag back with a groan, slinging it over his shoulder. "I can't. I have work." His voice is thick with exhaustion, the thought of standing for hours behind the counter making his body feel even heavier.

They walk side by side, exiting the now empty amphitheatre. The hallway is filled with the clamour of undergraduates, their youthful energy a stark contrast to Peter's weariness. As he watches a group of mermaids and fae girls laugh, a pang of nostalgia hits him. He feels older than his twenty-two years, burdened by responsibilities and a heaviness he can't quite shake.

As he and Anouk make their way down the corridor, Peter's mind drifts back to his workload—the readings he has to finish, the assignments piling up, and the work shift that looms ahead. But then, out of the corner of his eye, he catches sight of a familiar figure.

It's Theoden. Alone, for once. The Half-Fae is walking briskly, clearly in a hurry, but still manages to flash polite smiles at those he passes. The sight of him makes Peter's heart tighten painfully. A surge of emotions hits him—longing, hurt, and a deep-seated loneliness. His feet almost falter, torn between the desire to run to him and the crushing realisation that Theoden has chosen to walk away from him.

"Isn't that Theoden?" Anouk's voice cuts through his jumbled thoughts.. She looks at Theoden, then back at Peter, worry creasing her features. "Do you want to try and talk to him?"

Peter shakes his head, the weariness in his body now weighing down his very soul. "No..." The word is barely a whisper, the weight of unspoken words pressing down on him.

Anouk doesn't push him. Instead, she loops her arm through his, pulling him closer as they continue down the hallway, her quiet support a small comfort in the midst of his turmoil.

***

Hours later, Peter finds himself staring at the ceiling of the convenience store where he works, counting the cracks as he tries to distract himself from the gnawing emptiness inside. It's 10:30 P.M., and the store is quiet, save for the low hum of the refrigerator. Despite the two cups of coffee he'd downed earlier, his exhaustion has only deepened, seeping into his bones.

His thoughts drift back to Theoden, to the ache that never seems to dull. He's not in physical pain, but something worse—an emptiness that seems to consume everything, leaving him feeling hollow and directionless. He's stuck, unable to move forward, trapped in a loop of hopelessness. The darkness within him feels like quicksand, pulling him down with every thought of Theoden, with every reminder of what he's lost.

The bell above the door chimes, pulling him from his thoughts. Peter turns, expecting another late-night customer, but instead, he sees Saifa. Again.

Peter's first instinct is to groan. The High Fae is always so damn cheerful, his bright presence a stark contrast to the dark cloud hanging over Peter's head. Saifa, as usual, beams at him, waving as he makes his way to the coffee section. His guitar is slung over his shoulder, a constant companion.

Peter watches as Saifa grabs his usual caramel macchiato and approaches the counter, still smiling that infuriatingly warm smile.

"£1.80," Peter says mechanically, ringing up the bottle. Saifa places the exact change on the counter, but before Peter can hand him the receipt, Saifa speaks.

"You haven't called or texted me," Saifa says suddenly, his voice light but laced with an undercurrent of something more.

Peter looks up, startled. "Why would I?"

Saifa shrugs, but his smile never falters. "Because I told you, you could."

Peter narrows his eyes, his irritation bubbling up. "And? I'm not about to spill my life story to some guy I don't know. And you smile too much," he adds, almost as an afterthought. He regrets the words as soon as they leave his mouth, feeling a twinge of embarrassment. But it's out there now, and he braces for whatever reaction Saifa might have.

Saifa only laughs, a sound that is warm and infectious. "Is that a bad thing?"

Peter rolls his eyes. "No one smiles that much unless they're up to something. Or they're a serial killer."

Saifa's laughter only grows louder, the sound rich and full of life. "I assure you, I'm not a killer."

Peter crosses his arms, still not entirely convinced. "If you were, you wouldn't admit it."

Saifa's eyes sparkle with amusement. "You're a tough one, aren't you? But that's okay. I like a challenge."

Peter feels a strange flutter in his chest at Saifa's words, a mix of annoyance and something he can't quite place. He shifts uncomfortably under Saifa's gaze, wanting the interaction to end but also oddly drawn to the Fae's persistent warmth.

"Anyway," Saifa says, still smiling as he picks up his coffee, "I should get going. But I'll see you around, mate."

Peter watches as Saifa exits the store, his presence lingering in the air even after the door swings shut behind him. What a strange guy, he thinks, unable to shake the odd sense of warmth that has settled in his chest.

As the night grows colder outside, Peter is left with his thoughts, the emptiness still there but somehow not as suffocating as before.