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Bitzzbill stares down at his hands, fidgeting with his fingers. He can feel the heat of Kadebills presence next to him, but the air between them feels like a chasm. His chest is tight, and he’s not sure if it’s because of how close they’ve come to each other or how far away they’ve stayed.
Across from him, Kadebill sits with his back stiff, his hands balled into fists on his knees. He’s trying to keep his voice steady, but it cracks anyway.
“You know we can’t keep doing this, right?”
Bitzzbill doesn’t answer at first. He keeps his eyes fixed on his hands like they hold the answer he’s been avoiding for weeks. His stomach twists because he does know. But knowing it and saying it out loud are two very different things.
“I know,” he says, finally. His voice is quieter than he wants it to be.
There’s a pause. Bitzzbill can feel Kadebills eyes on him, but he can’t bring himself to meet them. Not yet.
“Then why does it feel like you’re still holding onto me?” Kadebill asks, voice barely above a whisper. “Like you’re waiting for something?”
Bitzzbill sucks in a breath, fighting the urge to flinch. He’s been holding onto Kadebill, hasn’t he? Clinging, really—because if he lets go, he’ll be alone with nothing but memories of someone he was never meant to love in the first place. His fingers curl into his palms.
Slowly, he looks up and meets Kadebills gaze. There’s pain there, mirrored between them, and he hates it.
“Maybe because I’m waiting for you to stop reminding me of him.”
It’s the closest he’s come to saying what’s been tearing him apart. The truth lands between them like a punch, heavy and unforgiving.
Kadebills face falls, and Bitzzbill immediately regrets the words, but it’s too late to take them back. Kadebills’s voice is sharper now, defensive.
“You’re one to talk,” Kadebill says, his tone biting. “Half the time I’m with you, it’s like I’m seeing him instead of you.”
There’s a crack in Kadebills voice that BitzzBill hasn’t heard before. His heart sinks further because now he knows it’s not just him. They’re both seeing ghosts.
“I’ve fallen for you, but every time I try to move forward, it feels like I’m just repeating the past.”
The words hang in the air, heavy and suffocating. Bitzzbill stands up suddenly, the movement jerky and frustrated, like he’s trying to shake something loose from his bones.
“You think it’s any easier for me?” he snaps, running a hand through his hair, pacing in a tight circle. “I didn’t even mean for this to happen—at first, it was just a way to get over them. And now I don’t know if I’m here because of you, or because I can’t let them go.”
His voice cracks at the end, betraying the anger he’s trying to keep at bay. He feels like an idiot—an idiot for letting this happen, for letting himself happen. Because Kadebill doesn’t deserve to be someone's second choice. Not like this.
Kadebill stands, too, stepping closer, his voice gentler now, though his eyes are filled with the same sadness Bitzzbill feels.
“I love you, but I think we both know this… whatever this is… it isn’t real.” His voice is steady, but barely. “Not when we’re seeing ghosts every time we look at each other.”
It’s the first time they’ve both said it out loud. The truth they’ve been dancing around. Bitzzbill’s heart clenches, and he wants to argue, wants to fight against the truth, but there’s nothing left to say. They’ve been living in a shadow of their past relationships, building something fragile on broken ground.
Bitzzbill swallows hard, his hands trembling as he tries to hold himself together. He forces out the words even though they hurt.
“And in the end, we’ll go back to them, won’t we?” He lets out a bitter laugh. “Even if it’s the worst decision we can make.”
Kadebill doesn’t answer right away. He just looks at him, his eyes filled with that same look they’ve both been carrying for too long.
Regret.
Maybe a little hope. But mostly the understanding that this— them —is something that can’t last.
“Yeah,”
KadeBill says softly.
“We will.”
The silence that follows feels deafening. Bitzzbill wants to close the distance between them, wants to pull Kadebill into his arms and forget everything else—forget the ghosts, the past, the future. But he knows he can’t. They both know.
There’s a brief moment, suspended in time, where it feels like maybe— just maybe. They could rewrite this ending. But the weight of everything pulls them back. They’ve come too close to something real, but their pasts have pulled them apart.
They stand there, inches apart, but a thousand miles away.