Mix arrives at Ter's apartment drenched, his clothes clinging to his frame, water dripping from his hair and making a mess on the floor. His face is pale, his eyes hollow, and he hates how exposed he feels in this moment.
He silently wishes Ter wouldn’t be home, that he could just sit in solitude to gather himself. But the moment Ter opens the door, any hope of avoiding this confrontation evaporates.
“What the hell happened to you?” Ter’s voice is sharp, laced with concern as his eyes scan Mix’s sodden state. “Jesus Christ.”
Before Mix can respond, Ter rushes to grab a towel. He pulls Mix inside, not caring about the water soaking into the floor, and wraps the towel around his shivering frame. His grip is firm but gentle, his actions efficient as he leads Mix.
“You need to change your clothes,” Ter mutters, already moving toward the bedroom. He rifles through Mix’s spare clothes, places them neatly on the bed, and returns to the living room. “Go change,” he instructs firmly.
Mix doesn’t move, his mind seemingly stuck in a loop, his body heavy with exhaustion. Ter’s patience falters. “Go change, or I’m gonna undress you right here, right now."
The words seem to snap Mix out of his trance. He drags himself to the bedroom, closing the door behind him. He stands there for a moment, water dripping from his clothes and forming a puddle beneath him. The room is silent except for the faint patter of rain against the windows.
Mix stares at his reflection in the mirror, his eyes tracing the water stains spreading across his shirt. He doesn’t move until his toes wrinkle from the wetness. Finally, he pulls off his soaked clothes, drying himself with the towel Ter provided, and slips into the dry ones waiting on the bed.
When Mix steps back into the living room, the warm, inviting scent of chocolate fills the air. He sees Ter standing by the kitchen counter, two steaming mugs in his hands. Ter glances up and motions for Mix to join him. Mix moves quickly, his earlier hesitation replaced with a need for comfort.
Ter hands him one of the mugs and gestures toward the sofa. They sit side by side, the weight of unspoken words hanging heavily between them. Mix wraps his hands around the mug, letting its warmth seep into his chilled fingers. He takes a small sip, savoring the sweetness before Ter finally speaks.
“Well?” Ter prompts, his voice gentle but probing.
Mix lets out a shaky breath. “The universe must hate me,” he mutters, staring into the swirling chocolate in his mug. “Everyone I like is either in a relationship, doesn’t like me back, or just sees me as a friend. And then there’s... someone who likes me, but it’s way too complicated to be with them.”
Ter leans back, his gaze unwavering. “You said you’d wait, right? So what are you crying about?”
Mix sets the mug down on the table with a soft clink. “I gave him space, and now part of me feels like I’m going to lose him. Completely.” His voice cracks slightly.
Ter sighs deeply, rubbing a hand over his face. “Mix, sometimes, you need to fight for the people you want—and the people who want you.”
Mix turns to him, a bitter laugh escaping his lips. “You hypocrite. You didn’t even fight for me.”
Ter chuckles dryly, shaking his head. “Exactly. That’s why I’m saying this. Because back then, I regretted it so much. I don’t want you to make the same mistake I did.”
Mix rolls his eyes, feigning annoyance to hide the weight of Ter’s words. “Oh my god, you’re still in love with me, aren’t you?”
Ter smacks him lightly on the back of the head. “Dream on. I’m courting someone right now, idiot.”
