Crimson Bonds

9

We can't be friends

Peter stands in front of Theoden's house, his breath visible in the crisp night air. The sky is dark, punctuated by distant stars, and the suburban street is eerily quiet. The homes here are grand, with manicured lawns and gleaming, expensive cars. Peter is intimately familiar with this place; he has spent many nights here, in Theoden's room, surrounded by the warmth of the Half-Fae's family. They are kind and welcoming, and Peter has always felt at home.

The lights in Theoden's room are on, visible through the window. Peter exhales deeply, the warmth of his breath dissipating quickly into the cold. He presses Theoden's name on his phone for the fifth time, only to be met with voicemail once again. His reflection in the screen shows a weariness that goes beyond physical—his eyes are hollow, his usually proud horns looking forlorn.

He's reached his limit. He's exhausted, drained, and feels like he's been sinking for weeks. The conversation with Saifa had given him a fleeting sense of clarity, but now he's back to the relentless ache of being ignored. Theoden's avoidance has pushed him to the brink of desperation. He needs to talk to Theoden tonight, and he needs answers.

Peter's knuckles rap against the door. After a few moments, Theoden's mother opens it, her face lighting up with a warm, welcoming smile. Her black curls are neatly pinned up, and her eyes show surprise at the sight of Peter.

"Peter! What a surprise! What are you doing here so late?" she asks, her tone both curious and friendly.

"Good evening, Miss Brown," Peter says, mustering a smile despite the turmoil inside. "I'm sorry for the late visit. I really need to talk to Theoden. Is he home?"

"Yes, he's upstairs in his room," she replies, her smile faltering slightly as she notices his solemn expression. "Would you like me to call him?"

Peter shakes his head. "No, I'd prefer to go up myself if that's alright."

"Of course, dear. He's up there. I hope everything is alright," she says, her voice tinged with concern.

"Thank you," Peter responds softly, and he heads upstairs. The climb feels heavier than usual, each step a reminder of the emotional weight he's carrying.

When he reaches Theoden's door, he hesitates for a moment, gathering his courage before knocking. "Come in," Theoden's voice calls out, rough and detached.

Peter opens the door and steps into the room. Theoden is sprawled on his bed, his phone illuminating his face. His posture is relaxed but abruptly tenses upon seeing Peter. The look on Theoden's face is a mix of surprise and irritation, his grip on his phone tightening.

"What are you doing here? How did you get in?" Theoden's voice is sharper than Peter expected, a note of defensiveness lacing his words.

Peter swallows hard, trying to keep his own emotions in check. "Your mother let me in. And if you had answered your calls, I wouldn't be here," he says, his tone steady despite the hurt he feels.

Theoden's eyes narrow. "What do you want?"

Peter takes a deep breath, trying to steady himself. He lowers himself to the floor, crossing his legs in a deliberate attempt to appear less imposing. "We need to talk," he begins, his voice quivering slightly. "I've been trying to reach you for weeks, and you've been avoiding me. If I've done something to upset you, I'm sorry. I truly am. But it seems that no matter how hard I try, I can't get through to you."

Theoden's frown deepens. "I didn't realise you were so desperate to talk. What's this about?"

Peter's heart aches, but he pushes through. "I see you with the Nymph girl—"

"Maria," Theoden interrupts, his voice tinged with defensiveness.

"Yeah, her," Peter continues, trying to keep his emotions under control. "It's clear you're happy with her. It's painful to see you with her, knowing that you're neglecting me and our relationship. I've tried to understand, but it's been too much."

Theoden's eyes widen, and he shifts uncomfortably on the bed. "What are you trying to say?"

Peter stands up, feeling a surge of frustration and sadness. "I think it's time we end this. I'm tired of being ignored and hurt. It's not fair to either of us. You deserve to be with someone you truly want, and I need to move on from this constant pain."

Theoden's expression is a mix of shock and disbelief. "You want to break up? Just like that?"

"Yes," Peter says firmly. "I love you, but you're not treating me right. I can't keep watching you be with someone else, pretending that everything is fine. It's too much to bear."

Theoden's face pales, and he stares at Peter as if he's just heard the most unexpected news. "But I thought we were... I thought we had something real."

"We did," Peter says softly, his voice trembling. "But sometimes, love isn't enough. Not when one person is left waiting and hurting while the other moves on. I want us both to be happy, and this... This relationship isn't working."

Tears well up in Theoden's eyes, but he remains silent. Peter's heart aches as he looks at him, but he knows he's made the right decision.

"I'm sorry, Theoden," Peter says quietly, his voice breaking. "I really am. But I need to let you go."

He turns and heads toward the door, his footsteps echoing in the silence of the room. As he exits, he takes one last look at Theoden, who is now sitting still on the edge of his bed, his face buried in his hands.

Peter steps outside into the cool night air. The sky above is vast and star-filled, a stark contrast to the turmoil inside him. He takes a deep breath, feeling a mixture of relief and sorrow.

He's finally free from the pain of waiting and the agony of being ignored. As he walks away from the house, he knows that despite the hurt, he's done the right thing for himself. He's free to heal and to find happiness again.