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Sylvain has the good fortune (or bad luck, depending on how one looks at it) to have grabbed the last good mango in the produce department. Felix, on the other hand, got there just a few seconds late, and is scowling at the offending mango like he expects it to burn up under his gaze. All the others are already close to going bad, and they both know it. If Sylvain were a kind man, or a charitable one, he’d give the mango to Felix, as a gesture of goodwill and proof that he’s moved on from their breakup of three years ago.
But then again, Felix did break his heart. Sylvain puts the mango in his cart and watches the way Felix’s eye twitches.
“When did you go organic?” Felix asks. “I thought you didn’t care about what you ate.”
Sylvain shrugs. He’s been working out since Felix left him, mostly out of spite. It’s a powerful motivator. “Sure, in college. I’m an adult now. I eat organic food and only shovel crap into my body on really shitty days.”
“Right.” Felix looks off to the side, clearly looking for a way out of this conversation. His jawline looks just as good as always. In college, there’d been a spot just underneath his jaw that would reduce Felix to a mess in no time at all.
He wonders if anyone else has found it.
“So?” Sylvain eyes the food in Felix’s cart suspiciously. “How have you been?”
“Fine.” Felix scowls. “What do you care?”
“Ouch!” Sylvain clutches his heart. He can’t tell if it’s a joke or not. “I thought you were the heartless one in this relationship.”
He’d said something along those lines to Felix during one particularly bad fight back when they dated. Those days, everything had gotten out of hand so fast. When they’d first broken up, the thought of Felix made him miserable, sending him into a state of anger or sadness depending on the day. Now, seeing him in the supermarket and fighting over organic food with him, Sylvain just feels tired.
“Ouch,” Felix echoes. He picks up a different (subpar) mango, one that will likely go bad within a day at most. Sylvain considers his own mango-related victory, which now feels a little hollow. “I thought you were afraid to hit hard.”
And there was the crux of their relationship problems, summarized neatly over banter in the produce section. Sylvain had put Felix on a pedestal, unable to criticize him except when he was so far into his own head that the whole world could rot as far as he cared. Felix hadn’t said enough, and when he did speak, it was normally too late.
They’d been a terrible couple. Sylvain wishes he didn’t miss him.
Sylvain shrugs. “I’ve changed.”
Felix puts the mango back down. He locks eyes with Sylvain. “Have you?” For just a moment, Felix sounds so tired, and so resigned that Sylvain wants nothing more than to reach out and sweep him up into his arms. Felix looks like he needs it.
The moment passes, of course. They don’t do that sort of thing anymore.
Sylvain sighs and finds a half-decent mango, hidden in the middle of the pack. He picks it up and hands it to Felix. “I don’t know,” he says. “It’s been three years. Haven’t you?”
Felix sighs. “Yeah. I guess so.” He turns the mango over in his hand as if he expects it to hold the key to some grand secret.
“I-” Sylvain snaps his mouth shut. Felix broke up with him. He’s not going to apologize.
Felix puts the mango in his cart. “Thanks. For the mango.”
“Anytime,” Sylvain says.
“Right.” Felix twists a hand into his ponytail and pulls. Sylvain wants to reach out and loosen his fingers, smooth whatever tension is there. Felix sighs. “Listen,” he says. “I know it’s been a long time, but… I’m sorry. I could’ve ended things better.”
Sylvain swallows. “Thanks.”
“We went through a lot together,” Felix says, which in Felix-speak means ‘You used to come over to my house for cartoons to keep your brother from beating the shit out of you. I transferred to a different college because of how much I missed you.’ “I could have been nicer.”
“Yeah,” Sylvain says. “And I could have been a better boyfriend.” Felix wants his forgiveness, he realizes, and he doesn’t know if he wants to give it. Felix broke his heart in a truly spectacular way, the likes of which he hadn’t even thought was possible. The only good thing about their breakup had been that it proved the existence of Sylvain’s heart pretty definitively.
“I hope you’re doing alright,” Felix says. He’s stilted. Awkward. There’s none of the ease from their childhood.
“You too,” Sylvain says. I miss you, he thinks about saying.
“Yeah.” Felix shoves his hands into the pockets of his sweatshirt. “You’re okay, right?”
Sylvain smiles at Felix, the edges of it so sharp that he could cut Felix on them. “C’mon now. That’s not really your problem anymore, is it?”
Felix’s face falls. There’s a specific way Felix used to look when he was about to cry as a kid, and though he’s long since stopped bursting into tears at every little thing, he’s never learned how to stop himself from making that same face. “Yeah,” Felix says. “I guess not.”
Sylvain needs to leave. Felix broke his heart once. He doesn’t need to keep looking at him and waiting for him to break his heart a second time. “It was nice to see you, I guess.” Sylvain sighs. “I really do want you to be happy, Fe.”
The nickname falls unbidden from his lips. Felix’s mouth twists. “You too,” Felix says. He sighs. “I’m sorry. I know it doesn’t mean shit, but. I am.”
Sylvain shrugs. “I don’t know what you want me to say.”
The song in the grocery store changes to some loud esoteric bullshit. It’s far too bold for a grocery store, but Sylvain likes the noise. The yelling of the band settles itself under his skin, and he finds a kind of peace there.
“Yeah.” Felix swallows. “Me neither.”
“Right.” Sylvain straightens up and starts to push his cart away. “Good seeing you.”
“Wait.” Felix’s voice sounds so strained. Against his better judgement, Sylvain stops. “I know I said it, but.” Felix pauses. “I really am sorry.”
“I wasn’t exactly blameless through it all either,” Sylvain admits.
“You wanted to work it out,” Felix says. He sounds so small, nothing like the man who used to always be at the forefront of Sylvain’s mind. “You were willing to put in the work. I wasn’t.”
“Felix.” Sylvain scrubs a hand over his face, then turns around. Felix looks like he’s fallen to pieces, his misery written clearly into every line of his face. “It wasn’t your fault. We weren’t right for each other.”
Felix looks up at him. “I should have put in the work. I was wrong.”
Sylvain’s chest tightens, even as his heart swells. He shouldn’t. Isn’t he better than this? He’s had a different boyfriend since he last saw Felix. He’s slept with plenty of other people. He’s been as close to happy as he ever gets. He shouldn’t roll over like a dog at the first sign that Felix might want him back.
“Fe,” he whispers.
“I know I don’t deserve another chance.” Felix is holding onto his cart so tight his knuckles are turning white. “But I miss you. I’m lonely, and I’m sad, and everyone else I’ve tried to date since you hasn’t even come close to comparing.” Felix’s gaze is fixed solely on the ground. “I’m sorry.”
It’s been three years, and Sylvain’s a different person now. But from the looks of it, so is Felix. Falling in love with a new version of him all over again doesn’t sound like the worst thing in the world, and neither does being able to wipe the dejection off of Felix’s face.
“Me too,” Sylvain whispers.
He abandons his cart, walking around to Felix before wrapping his arms around him and pulling him in close. Felix goes, pressing his face into Sylvain’s chest and clinging to him like some sort of lifeline. The last three years haven’t been kind to either of them, but Sylvain misses him. Felix has been his best friend since before he even knew what a best friend was. No matter what, he wants him in his life again.
“I’ve got you,” Sylvain says. “It’s gonna be okay.”
Felix makes a small, helpless noise and clutches Sylvain tighter. Minutes later, when they pull apart, Felix’s face is red and blotchy, like he was on the verge of tears.
Sylvain cups Felix’s face in his hands and oh, how he’s missed this. There’s no one else he’d rather touch like this. “I really do need to finish grocery shopping,” he says. “Do you want to shop with me? We can talk more after?”
Felix takes a shaky breath, then nods determinedly. “Sorry.” He straightens, rubbing at his eyes. “I just… it’s been a long three years. I guess it’s nice to see a familiar face, is all.”
Sylvain’s smile is thin, but it’s genuine. He laces his fingers with Felix’s. “Shopping?”
Felix squeezes his hand. “Shopping.”
They head off towards the dairy aisle together, Sylvain’s heart feeling lighter for every step that he takes with Felix at his side. Everything is different than it used to be, but they’ll be okay. They have each other, after all.