They stand there, caught in a moment suspended between the past and the present, the sound of the rain outside crashing against the windows like the tumult in their hearts.
Mix’s chest tightens as he stares at Earth, who looks utterly exhausted—his face drawn, eyes rimmed with shadows that speak of sleepless nights and endless worries. There’s stubble on his jaw, and his shirt is rumpled, like he hasn’t cared enough to tend to himself in days.
Mix misses him so much it aches, a visceral pain that spreads through his ribs and lodges in his throat. Every fiber of his being wants to close the distance, to touch Earth, to comfort him, to let himself fall apart in the safety of those arms.
But he can’t.
He shouldn’t.
Instead, he steels himself, forces his legs to move even as his heart screams at him to stay. He turns away, his trembling hand already reaching for the doorknob, ready to bolt before the storm inside him breaks loose.
Before he can take another step, Earth’s hand shoots out and grabs him. “Mix, please,” Earth’s voice cracks, thick with desperation, the rawness of it freezing Mix in place. “Let’s talk.”
The warmth of Earth’s touch burns against Mix’s skin, but it’s not comforting—it’s a reminder of what he’s trying to avoid. With a sharp breath, he yanks his hand away and spins around to face him. “What is there to talk about, Earth?” Mix snaps, though his voice wavers, betraying the façade of strength he’s trying so hard to hold.
They’re so close now, close enough that Mix can see how messy Earth’s hair is, the tiny flecks of brown in his weary eyes. He notices the faint quiver of Earth’s lips, the way his shoulders slump as if the weight of the world is pressing down on him. It takes everything in Mix not to reach out and brush away the tears threatening to spill from Earth’s eyes.
And then it happens. He feels the tears on his own cheeks, hot and relentless, mingling with the rain as if the storm outside has seeped into him.
“Please,” Earth whispers again, softer this time, his voice a plea that tugs at Mix’s heart. Behind them, First and Khaotung retreat quietly into their bedroom, the soft click of the door signaling that they’ve left them to their privacy.
Mix swallows hard, his throat raw. “What is it?” he asks, his words clipped, but his voice betrays him, thick with emotion he can’t quite mask.
Earth’s gaze drops to the floor, his hands clenching into fists at his sides. When he looks up again, there’s a vulnerability in his eyes that Mix hasn’t seen before—an unspoken sorrow that makes Mix’s chest ache even more. “I just want us to be okay,” Earth says, his voice breaking. “Please, Mix. Tell me what to do. I’ll do anything. Just… tell me.”
Mix feels the walls he’s built around himself crack under the weight of Earth’s words. The pain he’s buried for weeks, the questions he’s been too afraid to ask, all come rushing to the surface. He wants to yell, to scream, to demand why Earth couldn’t see how much he was hurting. But Khaotung’s voice echoes in his mind, reminding him of the possibility that Earth might not know something, that's why he's having a hard time understanding.
So he takes a shaky breath, trying to steady himself, even as his heart feels like it’s being wrung out by invisible hands. Outside, the rain pounds harder, a relentless rhythm that matches the chaos in his chest.
“Why did you suddenly leave?” Earth asks, his voice hesitant, as if he’s afraid of the answer.
Mix lets out a bitter laugh, shaking his head as he stares at Earth, his eyes shining with unshed tears. “What else was I supposed to do, Earth? Stay and watch you and Namtan play house while I fade into the background?” His voice rises, the anger he’s been holding back finally spilling over. “Do you know what it feels like to be so close to someone and yet feel invisible? To watch them smile and laugh with someone else while you’re standing there, pretending it doesn’t tear you apart?”
