Broken Nights, New Beginnings

Night 12: Reflection and Distance

The days apart from Tul were harder than Mew anticipated. He had thought that with some space, his mind would clear, that the distance would give him the clarity he needed. But instead, it felt like a dull ache that settled in his chest, growing worse with every passing day.

Tul had moved back into his own apartment temporarily, and the absence was stark. The apartment that once felt full of warmth and companionship now felt empty, echoing with memories that were too painful to think about. Mew tried to distract himself with work, meeting friends, and filling his time with anything that would keep him from thinking about Tul, but nothing worked. Every quiet moment, every empty bed, reminded him of what was missing.

He found himself lying awake at night, staring at the ceiling, wondering if this break would help them or if it was just the beginning of the end. He missed Tul's presence, the warmth of his body next to his, the way his hand would always find Mew's in the middle of the night. It wasn't just about the physical connection; it was the comfort, the familiarity, the way they seemed to fit together even when things were hard.

Weeks passed, and though Mew went through the motions of his daily life, the ache in his chest never fully went away. He thought about calling Tul, just to hear his voice, but every time, his fingers hovered over the phone, fear holding him back. He wasn't ready yet—he needed to be sure of what he was going to say.

One evening, after a particularly exhausting day at work, Mew found himself standing outside the bar where it all began—the same place where he and Tul had met by accident that night so long ago. It felt almost poetic, being back here, at the start of everything. He took a deep breath and walked inside, the familiar hum of voices and clinking glasses filling his ears.

He sat down at the bar, ordering a drink, his mind swirling with memories. The way Tul had looked that night, heartbroken and vulnerable, just like him. How one thing had led to another, and how, despite everything, they had found something special in each other. But was it enough?

As Mew sipped his drink, lost in thought, he didn't notice the figure that had entered the bar until they were standing right beside him.

"Mew?"

The sound of Tul's voice sent a shock through him, his heart skipping a beat. He turned slowly, and there he was—Tul, looking just as surprised to see him. His hair was slightly tousled, his face etched with the same exhaustion and heartache that Mew had been feeling. But there was something else there too—something softer, more vulnerable.

"Tul," Mew breathed, his voice barely above a whisper.

For a moment, they just stood there, staring at each other, the weight of the past weeks hanging between them. Then, slowly, Tul slid into the seat next to Mew, his eyes searching Mew's face.

"I didn't expect to see you here," Tul said, his voice quiet, but there was an undercurrent of emotion there that Mew couldn't ignore.

Mew swallowed, his throat tight. "I didn't plan on being here either. It just... happened."

They sat in silence for a few moments, the tension between them thick but not uncomfortable. It was as if they were both waiting for the other to speak, to say something that would break the dam of emotions that had been building up for weeks.

Finally, Tul broke the silence. "I've missed you."

The words hit Mew like a punch to the gut, and for a moment, he couldn't breathe. He had missed Tul too—more than he could ever put into words. But hearing Tul say it out loud made everything feel real again, all the feelings he had been trying to suppress rushing to the surface.

"I've missed you too," Mew whispered, his voice trembling slightly.

Tul reached out, his fingers brushing against Mew's hand, a tentative touch that sent a shiver down Mew's spine. "I thought the space would help me figure things out, but all it did was make me realize how much I need you."