Crimson Bonds [MxM]

23

Lovers to strangers to enemies

That Sunday night, when Peter returns to his apartment, Daphne's words still echo in his mind. The drive back to Altala feels unnaturally long, his thoughts swirling in an anxious loop. He catches glimpses of himself in the rearview mirror — the sharp curve of his red horns, the gleam of his gold-cat eyes, the inky blackness of his hair, and the burgundy hue of his skin. What is it about him that could truly attract someone like Saifa?

It's ridiculous, and he knows it. Yet, it bothers him, making him question whether he's really good enough. The feeling lingers, unsettling him as he enters his apartment, his mind already clouded with thoughts of the High Fae.

The next day, Peter can barely focus at work. The late shift gives him ample time to think, though all his thoughts drift back to Saifa. Every time the store door chimes, his heart skips, expecting Saifa to waltz in with that signature swagger. But as the night drags on, Peter is left with nothing but disappointment. He closes the shop, sighing heavily as he steps into the cold night, feeling a deep, unsettling churn in his gut. He doesn't even want to text the Fae, he knows it would only make him look desperate and he rather avoid that. But still... He wishes he would have seen Saifa tonight.

By the following morning, his mood has soured. Rolling out of bed feels like an act of sheer willpower. He grumbles, pulling on clothes before stumbling into the kitchen where Anouk, ever the early riser, is already making coffee, with Aiman quietly sipping his cup.

"You should just move in at this point," Peter mumbles as he sits at the table, his voice a low, tired grumble directed at Aiman.

Aiman attempts a smirk but fails miserably, too drowsy to muster his usual sharpness. "You're right. Maybe I should," he mutters back.

Anouk chuckles, placing a cup of coffee in front of Peter before taking her own seat. "Be nice, Peter. Aiman doesn't have the energy for your sarcasm this early."

After breakfast, Peter rushes off to his lectures, dragging himself through the motions. By mid-morning, during a break, Peter settles at a table outside the Student House, trying to focus on his upcoming writing assessment. Yet, no matter how hard he tries, his mind keeps wandering back to Saifa — the stolen glances, the touch of his lips, and the weight of his absence. Why didn't Saifa show up last night? Why didn't he text? Why does Peter keep questioning everything, doubting whether he's enough?

As his frustration grows, Peter sets down his pen, rubbing his temples, ready to call it quits. Just then, a familiar figure appears at the edge of his vision. He barely has time to react before Theoden takes a seat across from him.

Peter's heart skips. Of all people, why him? The Half-Fae seems unusually serious, his usual entourage conspicuously absent. His presence is unsettling, and Peter immediately stiffens.

"Hello, Peter," Theoden greets him, leaning forward slightly, his forearms resting on the table.

Peter narrows his eyes. "What do you want?" he asks curtly, cutting straight to the point.

Theoden hesitates for a moment before replying, his voice uncharacteristically steady. "I wanted to apologise."

"Apologise?" Peter echoes, disbelief laced in his tone. "For what exactly?"

"For everything," Theoden admits, a sigh escaping his lips. "For how I treated you, for not being upfront when things between us started falling apart."

Peter stares at him, suspicion and resentment swirling in his chest. "Why now?" he demands. "Why apologise now?"

Theoden exhales slowly, his eyes flickering with something that looks like regret. "I realised how unfair I was. When Maria came back, I knew I didn't love you anymore, but instead of ending things cleanly, I kept stringing you along."

Peter feels a bitter knot tightening in his chest. Hearing the words aloud only reopens old wounds. "You really hurt me. You kept me hanging on for what? Your convenience? My feelings didn't matter?"

Theoden's hands fidget nervously on the table, his expression pained. "I know. I liked the attention you gave me, and I was afraid of letting that go. You always made me feel special, and I didn't want to lose that... even when I should've let you go."

Peter scoffs, shaking his head. "You could've ended it. Instead, you made me question everything about myself. I'm still dealing with it."

Theoden falls silent, his gaze dropping to the table. For a long moment, neither of them speaks. Peter sighs, the bitterness receding but leaving a dull ache in its place. "I can't just forgive you, Theoden. Not right away. But... I can try to understand why you did what you did."

Theoden looks up, nodding. "I get that. And I'm not asking for instant forgiveness. I just needed to say it."

Peter crosses his arms, still guarded. "Anything else you want to get off your chest?"

Theoden shifts uncomfortably before meeting Peter's eyes again. "Actually, yeah. Can I ask you something? You've seemed... different lately. More distant, even before we talked. I was wondering if you were okay?"

Peter's instinct is to brush off the question, but something in Theoden's expression makes him pause. "Apart from the fact that you left me heartbroken and with no other choice but to break up with you... I guess I'm different because I think I like someone," he admits cautiously.

Theoden raises an eyebrow, a curious smile tugging at his lips. "Saifa?"

Peter's eyes widen. "How—how do you know?"

Theoden chuckles softly. "It was obvious, even back when we were together. You didn't notice it, but Saifa has been into you for a long time. Probably before we even started dating."

Peter is momentarily stunned. "Wait, what? Before you and I got together?"

Theoden nods, running a hand through his hair, embarrassed. "Yeah. He was into you for a while, but he never made a move. I used to get so jealous. I thought that if he ever spoke to you, it'd be over for me."

Peter stares at Theoden in disbelief. Saifa had feelings for him all this time? "Why didn't he say anything?" Peter mumbles, more to himself than to Theoden.

"Saifa's careful. He wouldn't rush into anything unless he knew it was right. But trust me, Peter, if Saifa's into you, he's serious about it."

Peter remains silent, processing the revelation. Theoden's expression softens as he watches him. "Look, I know I messed things up between us, but Saifa... He's not me. He won't hurt you like I did."

There's a strange finality in Theoden's words, a quiet acceptance that lingers as he rises from the table. "I'm glad we talked," he says, offering Peter a faint smile before walking away, leaving Peter sitting in stunned silence.

Peter's thoughts whirl, his heart pounding in his chest. Saifa has liked him for so long... and Peter never noticed. It's overwhelming, and suddenly, he feels like an idiot for doubting everything between them.

His phone vibrates, pulling him from his thoughts. It's a message from Saifa, a simple, heartfelt check-in. It kind of feels like destiny. Or fate. Peter's chest tightens with a mix of longing and guilt. Maybe Theoden's right — maybe it's time to stop running from what's in front of him.

As the sun begins to set, Peter gazes out over the campus, his mind still racing. Anouk would know what to say right now, but Peter is on his own this time. For once, though, the future doesn't feel so daunting.