Archive of Our Own ^beta

Audata’s birthday party was a quaint little reception held in her backyard, with strings lilting from the speakers and balloons strewn across the grass. 

Guests filled nearly every corner, the music blending seamlessly with the hum of light-hearted chatter. Mydei had almost forgotten just how well-acquainted Audata was judging by how the house itself seemed to overflow with people. Then again, she had always been the type of person to show up with freshly baked cookies, restaurant recommendations, and trusted handyman phone numbers whenever a new family moved into the neighborhood. 

Mydei remembers this well—the same goodwill Audata had shown him and his mother all those years ago.

“Gorgo!”

At sixty, Audata is as radiant as ever in her summer hat and flowy white dress. Not even the sun—sharp and relentless in the sky—could cast a harsh light upon the gentle lines of age that marked her face as she smiled at the newcomers.

Mydei sidesteps carefully, mindful of the box in his hands, as Audata pulls his mother in a tight hug. He watches the tension evident on his mother’s shoulders unravel slowly, as if overbearing stitches had been cut away and replaced with a long-forgotten comfort—the quiet relief of a friendship paused for more than a decade now resumed with barely any hesitance.

“What if she doesn’t remember me anymore, Mydeimos?” Gorgo laments, a fragile thread of worry weaving through her words. “You know how these things come with age.”

“Mother, you were sent an invite,” Mydei gently placates. “She remembers you. You were best friends.”

Gorgo frowns at the email shown on the screen of Mydei’s laptop. Mydei makes it a point to avert his gaze at who the sender is, lips pressed into a thin line as he hugged his mother from the back to console her. 

“We must go, Mydeimos.”

Mydei hesitates. “We?”

Gorgo turns around, her gaze sharp and unwavering—a look that Mydei is more than familiar with, one that leaves no room for negotiation.

He sighs. Suddenly he regrets ever checking his inbox that night. “I’ll take the time off.”

“And you must bake a cake.”

After a while of tearful embrace, Audata finally turns to Mydei. For a fleeting second, a dozen emotions grace her face, surprise being the more perceptible one.

“Goodness. This is Mydei?”

Mydei nods, cheeks warming at the attention. It was strange, being perceived again by the woman he’d once considered as his second mother growing up. Now, though the fondness had lingered, she feels closer to a stranger more than anything. Time has always been known to be rather cruel, after all, for memories that shone the brightest could always dim after years. 

“Happy birthday… ma’am. It’s been a while.”

He shifts his weight from one foot to another. His voice was tentative, as was his smile of which he’s unsure if it could even mask his nerves.

There was a rather drawn-out pause as Audata seemed to process his words, and Mydei felt the skin of his neck prickle. Just then, her laughter breaks through, one that could rival the clear and delicate sound of the wind chimes that hung by her porch. 

“Ma’am, he calls me! It’s mom for you, always has been. And you’ve grown so tall, dear!" Audata exclaims, fussy and fortunately unoffended. 

For a moment, she looked as if she was only mere seconds away from pulling Mydei into a crushing hug akin to the one she just gave his mother. Perhaps the box in his hands made her decide against it. 

“It feels as if it were only yesterday that you and Phainon barely made it past my shoulders,” Audata continues.

Mydei’s smile falters at that, and he tries to dissipate the urge to turn tail and flee because as much as he loved to see Audata again, he for sure would rather admit his cowardice than see her son. He wagered that it would’ve probably taken at least ten minutes before his name would come up.

It’s barely even been five. 

“I made you a cake,” he says quickly, holding up the box he’d been carrying, tied neatly with a golden ribbon that shimmered with the light. “I hope you’ll like it.”

Thankfully, Audata was too excited to even notice Mydei’s blatant diversion. She leads both mother and son to the kitchen, untying the ribbon to reveal the cake within the box—a 60 delicately nestled upon hand-piped sunflowers, each petal flawless and steady. Mydei had labored over every single detail. He’s sure the beloved celebrant would be pleased once the only view in sight wasn’t the top of the cake, but the entirety of it.

Audata gushed appreciatively, her smile bright as the sunlight—resembling that of her son’s as Mydei would ache to point out. “Mydei, it’s so beautiful. You even remembered my favorite flowers!”

"Of course,” he replies. “I used to sneak into old Aunt Mary’s backyard just to pick them whenever she excluded you from her book club.”

It had been Phainon’s idea, his traitorous mind supplies unhelpfully, as if knowing that he’s in the same vicinity as the very man he’d sought to avoid all these years was not torment enough.

Audata was tickled pink, no doubt reliving the fond memory as Gorgo freely advertised Mydei’s newly established bakery located right in the middle of downtown Okhema. 

It was at this moment that Mydei tunes out his mother when he catches a glimpse of unmistakable white hair purer than the first snow out in the garden from the kitchen windows, stark amongst the crowd for the man stood at least a head tall over everybody. Reflecting the noontime sun, the paleness of his hair looked almost luminous, and Mydei feels as if he were a moth mesmerized by a lone lamp in the darkness.

Though the man had his back turned from the house, Mydei need not think twice of his identity. His heart sinks to his knees at the inevitability of encountering Phainon, a weight settling deep within the very marrow of his unfortunate existence. He’d never once let himself finish the thought of how he’ll come to face the man—what he’ll say to him. 

What Phainon would even say to him.

“—deimos?”

Mydei turns his attention to his mother and Audata who was looking at him expectantly. He feels his face heat up. “Sorry, what was that?”

Gorgo smiles indulgently, as if this was only one of her dear son’s antics. Not like Mydei is especially known for tuning out of conversations whenever a certain someone worms its way into his mind and makes a home in there.

“Audata is asking if you’ve kept in contact with Phainon all these years,” Gorgo says. The devil sure is being spoken quite often at this point. “Unlike us old women, you young ones are experts at handling those computers and social media things and whatever.”

“Not to mention, Phainon’s been so secretive whenever I ask him about you,” Audata adds, a curious glint in her eyes. “When I told him to invite you to my birthday, he forgot to do it until only a week ago when I asked if you had responded yet. Well, to be fair, he did get sick for five days straight after I mentioned that I wished to get back in touch.” She sighs. “He must’ve forgotten then.”

Gorgo frowns worriedly. “Oh, poor thing! I remember he and Mydei were so inseparable back then that they used to catch colds together.”

“Right? And Phainon’s so happy about it too, saying something about having a competition on who gets better faster.”

“Mydei’s just the same…”

As the women continued their light-hearted gossip in front of him, exchanging fond anecdotes of their sons’ youth, Mydei wonders if he should be thankful that neither Audata nor Gorgo seemed to be waiting for his response to the dreaded question of whether or not he’d kept in touch with Phainon. 

Hearing them talk about memories long buried in the depths of his mind, though something he’d cherished once upon a time, he truly wished someone had thrown a brick to his head and made him forget everything.

“You should say hi to Phainon,” he barely hears Audata say. “He’s at the garden entertaining the guests.”

I know.

Mydei says something back—half-heartedly agreeing to the notion—and yet he makes a beeline to the bathroom once he’s sure that no one is looking his way. 

It’s still exactly where he remembered it to be, near the stairs that’s propped against a wall filled with slightly crookedly hung portraits of various sizes, all bearing the image of a white-haired, blue-eyed man in smiles through the ages.

Making it a point to avert his gaze from all of them, Mydei enters the bathroom and slams the door shut. He could barely see his reflection in the mirror as the present fell away around him, and from the darkness, memories rose up to meet him: it was fifteen years ago, and the scenes of a humid summer—one that’s just like today—came filing in one after another like an old film that Mydei has watched countless times over.

•

It all started two months before his eighteenth birthday. 

Phainon had just celebrated his own not even a week prior, to Mydei’s endless dismay. The one-month gap always felt like a defeat to him—an invisible mark of time where he was perpetually a step behind. And Phainon never fails to remind him of it because he’s just annoying like that.

But that annoyance was trivial compared to what awaited him at dinner one unremarkable evening, when his father announced that they would be moving back to Kremnos. 

Though Mydei had been born and lived there until he was four, he essentially had no ties to the place. No sentiment that would make him want to return. The knowledge he has of it at this moment all stemmed from his mother’s stories of the past long before he was even born, and of how his father had once been a lovesick fool instead of a stuck-up businessman who rarely had time to spare for his family.

Mydei had long since lost count of the occasions where he wished for his mother to simply leave the man. Yet he’d also seen the days when Eurypon decides to put on the mask of a loving husband and caring father, and suddenly, all of Gorgo’s smiles Mydei has ever seen in his life pale in comparison.

He witnessed the way his mother’s face lit up when his father mentioned the plan of returning home. Their home for it was never Mydei’s to consider as such. And when Gorgo had looked in her son’s direction across the dinner table, her expression had changed drastically in a heartbeat with the way Mydei could see his own panicked desperation reflected in her eyes.

He didn’t want to leave.

Mydei then tells Phainon the news the very next day, at a playground a couple of streets over from where they lived—an area where retired elderly folk outnumbered the children, evident from how the swings creaked from rusted hinges and yet still looked new despite the fact, as though they had never truly been used. 

The slide had no scratches or skids, the monkey bars showed no peeling paint, and tufts of grass had grown into the gravel to signify nature’s gradual reclamation. The lack of people made the playground appear somewhat haunted. 

The only thing that looked even remotely used was the old wooden bench beneath the scant shade of a sprawling oak tree where Phainon and Mydei currently sat, the sun’s unforgiving glare softened only by the canopy above.

Mydei had no idea why Phainon wished to walk all the way here just to stare at an unused playground.

“Why do you have to go back to Kremnos?” Phainon asks after a while, folding the leaf he’d caught into quarters. He keeps his attention to it as if it were something fascinating. 

Mydei might have answered if Phainon hadn’t already asked the same question over and over again for the past hour as if Mydei’s initial response hadn’t been the one he was looking for.

Even if Mydei fabricated one that Phainon was sure to accept—something rather outrageously silly, no doubt—the truth wouldn’t change.

“Because,” Mydei began, not even bothering to hide the exasperation in his tone. Not like he tried for the past ten questions prior. There’s also the heat which further shortens his patience. “Father’s business here in Okhema no longer required his attention. He doesn’t exactly talk about it with me so, that’s just as much as I could tell you.”

“Okhema has lots of opportunities just lying around,” Phainon pressed on. “Why can’t he just come up with a new business to do here?”

It’s Phainon’s attempt to sound adult-like just because he’s already come of age, is what Mydei thinks, getting peeved. He doesn’t like it at all.

“Why don’t you tell him that yourself?”

Phainon simply ignores the gripe. “Is Aunt Gorgo just going to follow him? What about her life here?”

“They’re figuring it out,” Mydei grumbles. It was the only answer he could give, after all. 

He knew his father prioritized his work above his own family to the point that the only time Mydei ever saw him was during the weekends. Even then, Eurypon would be holed up in his office for hours, leaving Mydei to only ever afford glimpses of his father from the narrow panes of the french doors that barred anyone from intruding.

Though both his parents never argued in front of him, Mydei was well-aware of the poorly-concealed tension within their home this morning. Breakfast had been so stifling that he offered to mow the lawn just to get out of the house regardless of the summer heat.

He’s almost eighteen, no longer naive enough to believe that just because there are no visible disagreements, doesn’t mean there isn’t one. 

His father wanted to return to Kremnos. And Mydei knew his mother, who had long nursed a quiet longing to return to her hometown herself, expressed her disagreement in place of her son. To say that Eurypon had been blindsided by this turn of events would be an understatement, and Mydei had gone to bed that night with guilt gnawing at his heart for having to put his mother at such a terrible spot.

“So,” Phainon began again, breaking the fragile silence and extricating Mydei away from his thoughts. “Why do you have to go back to Kremnos?” 

Mydei huffs. “Because—”

“Because your father wants to,” Phainon answers for him, matter-of-factly. “And you hate the fact that your mother is arguing for your sake so you’ll just concede.”

There’s something about Phainon’s tone that grates him. It’s too… accusatory. As if Phainon is mocking the inevitability of his choice before he could even decide for himself. But he dare not deny that at this point, it does feel like it is inevitable.

“Where are you going with this?”

Phainon looks up to meet his gaze, blue eyes catching the slivers of sunlight that escaped the tree shade, strange in their clarity. The folded leaf in his hand had been scrunched ever so smaller until the blunt edges of his nails started to dig into the layers and the green pigment grew ever darker with each forced crease.

For once, Mydei couldn’t quite read the look on Phainon’s face. Then the latter breaks into a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes and Mydei’s chest suddenly weighs heavier for reasons he couldn’t quite name at the moment.

“Sorry,” Phainon mutters before looking away, the sound of his strained laugh taken by the wind. “Forget I said anything.”

It eventually dawns on Mydei that Phainon is sulking. 

There’s a part of him that expected Phainon to be upset by the news, for the idiot had a fragile heart that bled too much at the slightest poke. And perhaps it would be hypocritical of him to think that Phainon is alone in this one. 

“What about university?” Phainon asks still. “I doubt applications would still be open by the time you get there.”

“Father says he knows people in Kremnos that could help me file in a late application to a few good ones.”

Phainon snorts. “You know, being a nepo baby doesn’t exactly— Ow!” A sharp kick to the shin interrupts him. He turns to Mydei with a scowl. “What was that for?”

“You think I want to leave?” Mydei shot back, wondering if perhaps he’d kicked too hard judging by the faint glimmer of tears prickling the corners of Phainon’s eyes. “This frustrates me just as much as it does you. Stop taking it out on me.”

Phainon puffs his cheeks, huffing like he’d been deeply wronged. “You’re the one who kicked me! Who’s taking it out on who!”

“You were pissing me off with your weird—” Mydei makes a nondescript gesture in the air. “—I don’t know. Shut up.”

“Just admit that I’m right, then. No need to cry about it.”

Mydei’s not crying. “Are you itching for a fight?”

“Don’t talk to your elders like that.”

Mydei tackles him to the ground at the next second. They wrestled and squabbled for who knows how long, only stopping when Mydei’s shirt rips when Phainon pulls at the fabric too hard. 

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to,” Phainon mutters, thumbing at the tear just above Mydei’s rib, the pad of his finger grazing the exposed skin beneath. 

“It’s fine,” Mydei says, swatting Phainon’s hand away before his face could catch on fire. “Get off me.”

Phainon helps him up and they both decide that they’re done wasting their time for the day, opting to spend the rest of the afternoon lounging at Phainon’s backyard playing checkers. Audata had brought them a pitcher of lemonade, saw the tear on Mydei’s shirt, and gave Phainon an entertainingly thorough scolding. 

Despite his losing streak at the damned board game, the sight of Phainon floundering for words as Audata relentlessly berated him was enough to brighten Mydei’s mood, snickering when Audata wasn’t looking and pulling the most pitiful look he could muster when she turns his way.

“Asshole,” Phainon gripes once Audata has left, throwing a black piece towards Mydei who ducks just in time before it could hit him right at the middle of his forehead. 

The piece lands in the grass and Mydei wonders if either of them would remember to put it back in the box later on. 

Casually, he says, “For the record, this is my favorite shirt.”

Phainon throws another piece at him in lieu of pointing out the blatant lie. 

Three games (and three losses) later, Mydei decides to swear off checkers. By then, the sun had just set, making way to a rather humid evening.

Audata lets Mydei know that Gorgo has called, informing him that dinner would be ready soon. Before he could leave, however, Phainon blocked his path just before he could exit through the front door.

“What?”

Phainon didn’t answer immediately, as if Mydei has all the patience in the world to wait. Judging by the fact that he hasn’t yet shoved Phainon out of his way, maybe he does. 

It’s the Phainon effect. Something about him does compel you to stop and listen to whatever he has to say. It could be the hair, or the eyes, or even his gentle features that makes you want to approach.

Either way, Mydei has fallen victim to Phainon’s everything since ages ago that at this point, he finds he no longer minds. It should’ve been a bad thing to be easily manipulated into Phainon’s whims, but Phainon is his best friend. It’s fine.

“Get out of the way,” Mydei says, thinking that Phainon must simply be in the mood to waste his time and get him scolded by Gorgo for returning home so late and missing dinner.

“You don’t have to leave, you know,” Phainon says at last. His voice is quiet, tentative. Like he’s scared to ask for something and instead settles for cryptic sentences that could pass off as half-hearted.

Though Phainon always runs his mouth, this is the first that Mydei sees him be sincere with it. For once, he wonders if Phainon actually means what he says.

The phone rings again and Mydei hears Audata’s muffled voice from the kitchen answer the call shortly after. It was at this moment that Phainon finally steps aside. 

“That’s probably Aunt Gorgo wondering where you are,” he says, a small smile tugging at his lips, a mask for the lingering sulk Mydei could still read on him. “You should go. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

At dinner, Mydei tunes out whatever stilted conversation his parents were having just to put up appearances that everything’s fine. He could feign a stomach ache, leave the table despite his plate still having leftovers, all so he could escape to his room and press his ears against the door just to hear a sliver of hushed arguments.

You don’t have to leave, you know.

The thought of Phainon brings Mydei back to the present, making him acutely aware of how he’d been picking at his stew despite it being one of his favorite meals his mother would make.

He considers Phainon’s words like it’s the first time he’d ever entertain the thought of staying—plays out the different scenarios and consequences in his mind: the conversations to be had if he were to stay behind, his father’s disapproval, his mother’s conflict, and the promise of living the rest of his days uninterrupted with Phainon. 

It’s rather selfish to think of, even as he glances up subtly to catch a sight of his mother who meets his gaze and offers him a soft, knowing smile. Almost like a promise that everything will fall into place somehow.

“Seconds, Mydeimos?” Gorgo asks him, a hand already reaching out for the ladle. 

Mydei pushes his bowl near the pot. His chest feels tight. “Yes, please.”

After dinner, he helps his mother with the dishes while his father resigns himself to his office, as usual. 

As they loaded the dishwasher, Mydei finally finds the voice to ask, “Mother, what if I don’t want to go to Kremnos?”

Gorgo barely halts in her movements, wiping down the kitchen counter briskly. She does, however, turn to Mydei for a brief moment. There’s no surprise evident on her features, which only confirms of Mydei’s initial assumption that she’d known right away from his expression the night before that the idea of leaving Okhema was not something he wanted.

“Then, I will stay here with you,” she says, even and final—as if it were the simplest decision in the world.

Mydei didn’t know if he should regret having to ask. Though a part of him expected his mother’s answer to be that way, he wished that he didn’t have to be right. Perhaps it would’ve been better if his mother was just like his father: oblivious, uncompromising, and inconsiderate of Mydei’s feelings. They would probably have already booked a flight next week, handled all the moving papers, and whatever else grown-ups needed to do when planning to re-establish a life in another place if that were the case.

“But,” Mydei began, hesitant as he clutched the dish cloth. “I thought you missed Kremnos.”

“I do,” Gorgo replies softly. She cups Mydei’s face gently, her hand faintly smelling of the lemon-scented cleaner she used. Though Mydei usually despised the smell of chemicals, he leans into his mother’s touch and feels the burden lighten up a bit. “But my son’s happiness matters more, of course.”

“What about father?”

“I’ll deal with him. You don’t have to worry.”

Mydei sleeps with a hopeful heart that night. But one thing he’s learned with time is that, sometimes hope does more bad than good. 

He dreams of a wispy silhouette that had his father’s voice telling him he’d changed his mind about leaving, before promising his mother that he’d try to be a good husband as he was to her before.

Morning came with the wrongness of reality. Still, Mydei leaves his room in high spirits that barely lasted before he could even reach the bottom of the stairs. 

He finds his mother in the living room, her eyes could barely conceal the exhaustion in them—apologetic in the way that makes it feel as if an invisible hand is mercilessly squeezing Mydei’s heart from the inside.

“I’m sorry, Mydeimos.”

Mydei comes to know why dreams are often considered as a lie of which you shouldn’t hold on to.

He then goes to meet Phainon after that, as he always did whenever he wanted to get away. Seated at the stairs to the front porch, seemingly already anticipating his arrival, it only takes one look at his face for Phainon to figure out what had happened.

“You’re still leaving,” Phainon says. He sounded achingly distant.

Mydei shakes his head. “They’re making me stay here for another month considering that they still have some stuff to arrange at Kremnos.”

It was the compromise his father was willing to make. A month is enough time to bid his goodbyes, at least that’s what Mydei deludes himself into thinking. Not to mention, prolonging his stay would mean that he’d be leaving his mother on her own with his father. 

Though Eurypon never inflicted harm on his family, pain didn’t need to be physical in order to be felt. He’d really rather his mother didn’t have to spend any time alone with him at all.

“I’ll be here until my birthday at least,” Mydei continues.

The sullenness of the atmosphere dissipates in a blink of an eye as Phainon straightens up, as if his mood were as easily swayed as a wind vane against a breeze. Mydei suppresses a snicker despite himself for Phainon has always been very easy to please.

“So you’re spending your birthday here?” Phainon asks, incredulous. With me? goes unsaid. 

The glimmer in Phainon’s clear blue eyes has returned, and for once, Mydei relinquishes thoughts of his burdens in favor of getting lost in them. 

“Yes.”

Phainon immediately springs up from the steps of his porch, his worn out sneakers pressed upon a particularly loose plank of wood. But Mydei notices that Phainon doesn’t seem to mind the soft, creaking sound it lets out beneath the latter’s weight; the usual muttered complaints were absent, replaced instead by an infectious excitement that permeated the space between them.

“We should make this the best summer ever!” Phainon exclaims. “You’re turning eighteen so you should let me, a wizened adult, deal with matters of fun.”

Mydei puts on a wry expression in an attempt to conceal the several skips of his heartbeat at seeing the two stray strands atop Phainon’s hair sway as he bounced on his heels, seemingly physically incapable of staying still.

“That sounds corny as hell,” Mydei grouches, feigning disgruntlement. “And we’re basically the same age.”

But Phainon dismisses his complaints with a wave of his hand, calling it ‘nonsense’ and making sure that Mydei knows of the harrowing fact that he’s going to succumb to a future of dull, joyless adulthood if it weren’t for him.

They then spend the day goofing around—messing with the neighbor’s sprinklers and sneaking into old Aunt Mary’s backyard to pick sunflowers before her dog could chase them out.

“See, Mydei? You don’t want to live the rest of your life like her, do you?” Phainon pants beside him as they leaned against the fence where a raging dog barked nonstop from the other side. 

Mydei’s ankle throbs from a bad fall after having to leap over the fence quickly, his palms splintered and a new scratch grazing his shin. He should’ve worn pants today but it was so hot out that he decided against it.

He shoots a glare at Phainon’s direction. “I don’t think old Aunt Mary trespassed into her neighbor’s backyard just because her friend’s mother got excluded from the book club.”

Phainon laughed lightly, the stems of sunflowers in one hand as he helped Mydei up with the other. “Good point. I suppose you’re straying further from the path of boring adulthood because of me.”

“You’re just a bad influence.”

“You could’ve just said no when I asked you to come.”

No. Mydei doesn’t think he could do that. Not with Phainon beaming at him like he’s trying to rival the sun itself, offering him a single sunflower as ‘payment.’

Dazed at the sight of it all, Mydei takes it. 

Like clockwork, the rest of the afternoon was spent lounging at Phainon’s backyard playing games Mydei has never heard of before that Phainon comes up with on a whim until Audata lets Mydei know that his mother had called for him to go home for dinner. 

It goes like this for a couple of days more, until the day before Mydei’s parents were set to leave for Kremnos. Considering that Mydei would be driving alone after bringing his parents to the airport, Gorgo saw it fit to have someone accompany him for the ride back home just in case.

So Mydei trudges to the front door of Phainon’s house to let him know (asking is rhetorical; he knew Phainon would agree anyway) that they’ll be leaving early tomorrow morning. Already expecting the endless teasing of needing to have a chaperone to drive, Mydei braces himself as he raises his hand to knock.

“He went to the city,” Audata tells him when she answers the door. 

Mydei, still surprised by the lack of Phainon, nods absentmindedly. Phainon rarely goes to the city alone, and if he did, Mydei would be the first to know. 

“I see.”

Audata tilts her head, her expression curious. “He didn’t tell you?”

“He must’ve forgotten,” Mydei dismisses with a smile because it’s not a big deal. Not at all. 

Disappointment curdles traitorously and he finds himself oddly unsettled by the lack of Phainon’s presence, dreading the fact that in a month’s time, he’d have to start living without the other not just for a day, but for an undefined—and most likely prolonged—period of time.

Diverting the topic, he tells Audata that Gorgo is expecting her at home, something about cooking together for one last time before she leaves. With Eurypon scheduled to be out all afternoon, they essentially had the house to themselves. 

Though Audata seemed a bit tearful, she hides her dismay behind a smile, patting Mydei’s shoulder lightly and thanking him for letting her know. Something about her mannerisms reminds Mydei just how much Phainon takes after her.

“Phainon should be back before nightfall,” Audata tells him as she wears her sunhat and sandals, a basket of ingredients in her hand and her tattered cookbook that is already falling apart by the binder on the other. “Well. He should be back if he doesn’t want to get scolded.”

Mydei suppresses a grin for he would have loved to see that. Nothing better than to see Phainon squirm and look more pathetic than a kicked puppy. 

“Thanks, Aunt Audata.”

“Mom,” she corrects—always does—as the corners of her eyes crinkled, regarding Mydei fondly. “You’re like a son to me, Mydei. I’m so happy Phainon found a friend in you.”

Mydei returns her smile. For some reason, he finds himself at a loss of what to say as he watches her step down the short flight of stairs leading from the porch to the path.

“You can make yourself at home while you wait for Phainon,” Audata calls over her shoulder before she’s out of earshot. “There’s cookies and orange juice on the counter.”

It took years for Mydei to be able to enter Phainon’s house when no one’s home, but it was rare and far between. However, the intense summer heat was enough to convince him this time.

After sampling the cookies and orange juice, Mydei makes a beeline up the stairs and into Phainon’s bedroom. The latter had barged into Mydei’s own private space several times before so Mydei considers this as some form of a small, satisfying act of revenge. 

The bed was surprisingly made, the usual clutter confined to a few modest corners. He then slumps into the mattress unceremoniously, the scent of Phainon permeating his nostrils in mere moments. 

He attributes the warmth that coats his skin to the stifling hot weather as he presses his nose into the sheets and inhales deeply. The only difference is, the warmth that Phainon’s scent brings doesn’t make Mydei sweat uncomfortably, or bring out a certain distinct stress that makes him irritable. It’s the kind of warmth that sinks into him gently—like a soothing bath after a particularly long day, or a delicious bite of a freshly cooked meal. 

Phainon is a warmth that brings comfort. And even if Mydei is alone in this room, alone in his thoughts, Phainon feels present enough that the idea of loneliness seems far-fetched. 

Eyelids drooping heavily, Mydei wonders how he’d fare when Phainon’s scent no longer surrounded him like it does now, and if he could even bear to live without it. 

He falls asleep then, whole body buried beneath Phainon’s covers as he nestles his face into a soft pillow, akin to a sensation as if he’d buried his nose into soft locks of pale, snow-like hair.

It was already dark out when Mydei woke, and it was to the sight of Phainon seated beside him, the surface of the mattress uneven as it dipped beneath his weight. Mydei notices that his hair now had a few more braids done, loose without a tie and would definitely fall apart if Mydei so much as moved. It’s not a surprise considering how Mydei knows that Phainon likes to mess with his hair—part of the reason why Mydei is trying to grow it out.

“About time you woke up,” Phainon tells him with a half-smile that somehow (annoyingly) does things to his heart. His fingers lingered upon blonde strands before withdrawing altogether. “Slept well?”

Mydei kicks the covers away and sighs at the cool air, a relief from the sweltering heat. He sits up almost immediately, shame creeping in waves at the thought that he’d fallen asleep on someone else’s bed. 

“When did you get back?”

“Just now,” Phainon replies casually. And then he’s standing up, the mattress gradually readjusting to the lack of weight. “Come have dinner, mom brought some leftovers from your house.”

Before Mydei was about to ask what Phainon did at the city, the latter was already out the door. Maybe the trip starved him out, is what Mydei thinks as he follows shortly behind. 

Perhaps he should’ve remembered still to ask about Phainon’s agenda before he went home, but Phainon’s smile had been too distracting as he told Mydei of the story of how he missed his stop at the train and had to find a map for a place he wasn’t even a tourist in.

“You’re so embarrassing,” Mydei says.

“Mistakes have to be made so you learn from them,” Phainon shoots back, all wisened up after venturing out of their little suburban neighborhood. “Also, I got scouted by, I don’t know, three? Modeling agencies.”

Mydei snorts. “They need new models to advertise dog food. Got to make those kibbles look appetizing somehow.”

Phainon elbows him, Mydei elbows back, and it becomes this sort of push and pull at the side of the road until Mydei manages to get Phainon into a headlock that had Phainon yielding in no time.

“Geez,” Phainon wheezes. “If you had gone with me, I bet those scouts would love to plaster your body all over the place. Your arms are getting insane. Lay off the weights for Kephale’s sake. Who are you trying to impress?”

Mydei feels his face heat up at the subtle compliment. “Shut up.”

The next morning, they leave for the airport. Though Phainon had scarcely exchanged more than a few words with Eurypon in the fourteen years that they’d become neighbors, Mydei’s shock could compare to Phainon’s when his father, in a rare show of sentiment, pats Phainon’s shoulder firmly and says a gruff, “Take care of my son.”

Mydei turns to Gorgo who had the same bemused expression as she watched her husband walk through the departure gates. 

“What was that all about?” Mydei asks his mother, trying and failing to shake Phainon out of his reverie, jostling him by his shoulders. 

Gorgo shrugs, the faintest smile playing on her lips. “Who knows.”

The goodbye isn’t as tearful as Mydei had expected, fortunately. He lets himself be pulled into a hug as Gorgo tells him to take care of himself, lock the doors at night, and to not get into any trouble that would land himself in jail.

“I think that applies to Phainon more than me,” Mydei complains as Gorgo turns to Phainon to also smother him in a hug. “He’s the one with the great ideas.”

This somehow snaps Phainon out of his Eurypon-induced spacing out to be able to defend himself. “Hey! It takes two, you know.”

For a moment, Mydei forgets that his mother is watching and smacks Phainon at the back of his head, not hard enough to hurt but knowing Phainon, the guy would make a big deal out of nothing for sure. And he does.

After a lot of back-and-forth with Gorgo simply being an entertained spectator of two teenagers with barely any sense of decorum in a public space, Mydei finally bids his mother goodbye for a second time, promising her that he’d see her in a month.

“Let me know if he’s being an asshole,” Mydei tells her.

“That’s not a good way to talk about your father, Mydeimos,” Gorgo replies lightly. “And Phainon, do take care of Audata for me, will you?”

Phainon nods, a smile on his lips. “Of course, Aunt Gorgo.”

Both Phainon and Mydei then watch her walk through the departure gates. Only when his mother was out of sight did Mydei truly feel the sadness bearing down on him. This was the first time they parted, after all. 

In a month, he thinks to himself. He’ll see his mother again in a month. And in a month as well, he’ll have to say another goodbye, much less temporary this time, to the person standing beside him.

Phainon lets Mydei stew in his thoughts for several minutes until the latter tells him that he’s ready to go. He follows behind Mydei and fills the silence with idle, distracting chatter of which Mydei was secretly grateful for.

They settled into the car, Mydei at the driver’s seat while Phainon’s at shotgun who immediately fastens his seatbelt and braces himself when the engine hadn’t even started yet.

“I know how to drive,” Mydei tells him, slightly offended at the display of theatrical precaution. “I have a license.”

“Better safe than sorry,” is Phainon’s reply. He sounds dramatically faint.

Mydei rolls his eyes and turns the ignition, feeling the soft rumble of the vehicle as the engine starts running. “Then walk.”

Phainon does ease up after the threat. Perhaps he feared that Mydei would kick him out of the car and leave him for dead. Not like Mydei would actually do something like that for the airport was indeed quite far from their neighborhood. 

Still, on top of driving relatively slow and minimizing his lane changes, Mydei tells Phainon that he’s in charge of the radio just to lighten up the mood. It’s enough of a distraction to have Phainon singing off-key in no time with Mydei telling him to shut the fuck up five kilometers in on their journey back home.

“Phainon,” Mydei manages, face flushed from all the laughing. He won’t admit he’s having fun, of course. He might actually need an ear transplant after this. “You sound horrible.”

Phainon exaggerates an offended gasp. “I’ll have you remember that our music teacher told me I have a broadway voice.”

“Only because she wanted you to date her daughter.”

Phainon slumps in his seat. “Well. That, too.”

Mydei snorts, biting back the urge to call Phainon the perfect little son-in-law. It’s one of the things that gets Phainon worked up and Mydei has never figured out the reason why.

Silence ensues as Phainon picks another playlist. But before Mydei could start missing his friend’s horrible singing vocals, Phainon cuts into the quiet with a question.

“Do you want to go to Aedes Elysiae with me?”

Mydei’s foot presses upon the brakes to slow down before he could crash them into another car with how caught off guard he was, a slight panic in the way his heart beats.

“...Why?”

Aedes Elysiae was only a couple of hours drive from Okhema. Mydei knew as such because his mother had always told him that the beaches there were nice. She tried convincing his father to go for a family outing, but unsurprisingly, Eurypon prioritized his marriage to his job rather than the one he shared with his wife.

“I just recently found out that it was my birth town,” Phainon answers with a shrug. “Since you’re returning to yours in a month, I think it would be nice to see mine as well together.”

Together.

Mydei opens his mouth, keeping his eyes on the road because he’s driving. It’s great timing, really. Convenient how he won’t have to think of where to look if they had this conversation face to face. 

“You can say no,” Phainon adds not a moment later, when the question hasn’t even settled yet. “We can still do something else for our Best Summer of All Time—”

Mydei internally winces because Phainon never fails to not be embarrassingly corny even at a time like this where his mind is reeling from the sudden proposition—one that should not mean anything else apart from being a simple invite among friends—and he still has to make sure they don’t crash and die.

“—I can always go after you leave. It was mom’s suggestion for me to go with you anyway, so—”

“Leave some room for an answer,” Mydei manages to say, face heating up and he blames it on the midday sun beating down from the windshield. “I haven’t even said no yet.”

From his periphery, he could see Phainon deflate in real time. “...So, it’s a no?”

Phainon sounds so sad and small and all the other synonyms of those words that ever existed. Gods, this is why it’s hard to say no to Phainon of all people. Not like Mydei ever did want to say no in the first place.

“You’re so stupid. Of course, I’m going,” Mydei says before Phainon could burst into tears or whine or whimper or whatever. “We could leave tomorrow if you want.”

Mydei could even leave today. Not that he’s super excited about it or anything.

Phainon, on the other hand, goes unexpectedly still beside him and Mydei wonders if he’d actually made the former cry. But before Mydei could cast a quick glance, Phainon lunges across the center console and throws his arms around Mydei—an awkward but tight hug from the passenger seat that nearly makes Mydei swerve.

“Shit—! Phainon, I’m driving!” 

Phainon pulls away quickly, bursting into laughter as Mydei steadies the car. Mydei’s heart was racing to the point that he felt as if the organ might just simply leap out of his chest, all thanks to them nearly causing a kilometer-length of traffic from an on-road collision (and because of how close Phainon had gotten that he could still feel the ever so brief warmth and the scent of Phainon’s fabric softener lingering against him).

It’s bad for his health. Truly. And Phainon is just sitting there, laughing like Mydei hadn’t almost died.

“You’re a shitty driver, Mydei,” Phainon chides like he was not scared for his life half an hour ago when Mydei first merged them into the highway. 

Mydei fights the urge to smack Phainon’s head onto the dashboard. “Shut up. We almost crashed because of you and you can’t even drive. Your criticism is invalid.”

“You should teach me how to drive then,” Phainon replies, still giggling like he can’t stop.

“My rate is two million balance coins per hour,” Mydei retorts. 

Phainon then goes on a tangent on how carbon emission from vehicles ruin the atmosphere and that learning to drive is actually contributing to its gradual deterioration. 

Despite his intentions to stay annoyed, Mydei’s heart sways fondly at that because, though he would dare not admit it, he knows that he’ll miss Phainon’s incessant rambles once he leaves for Kremnos.

Without question.

•

The water was cool against his face, dripping from his chin as he stared at his reflection in the mirror. He had to get a hold of himself somehow instead of staying in the bathroom. He should know by now that simply hiding away accomplishes nothing.

Mydei wonders if his absence would even make much of a difference; his mother is sure to look for him, and perhaps Audata would as well. There’s also the off-chance that Phainon would’ve caught wind of the news that Mydei has arrived and would seek him out too. 

He probably wouldn’t. 

Though it’s far from being ideal, running into Phainon was something Mydei knew was inevitable. But as much as humanly possible, he’d at least try to delay that from happening. 

Best case scenario, the only time he’ll have to talk to Phainon is when the party is over and Mydei’s already on his way to the car while his mother says her goodbyes to Audata. Regardless of how futile, he still hopes that interacting wouldn’t be as necessary.

He hears two knocks coming from the other side of the door, startling him lightly. Maybe he’d holed up in the bathroom for far too long. With a final quick glance of himself in the mirror to make sure that he didn’t look like death warmed over, Mydei unlocks the door and twists the handle, stepping out with an apology ready at the tip of his tongue.

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to hog the bathroom—”

His words died on his lips. There has to be some sort of karmic retribution at play here with how he immediately comes face to face with the very person he was dreading to see.

“Oh.”

Mydei wants to say that Phainon hasn’t changed that much, and at the same time, everything about him feels foreign. 

The eighteen-year-old boy he’d immortalized in his memories had sharp shoulders and restless hands. But the man standing in front of him carried himself with an unfamiliar, worldly ease—his frame is broader, face leaner. Pale, snow-colored hair neatly combed in the way that somehow made Mydei’s breath catch, achingly different from the wind-swept look he’d had during their youth.

His eyes, on the other hand, remained clear. Bright blue, striking as ever and easy to get lost in for Mydei has only ever seen eyes that could rival the skies with Phainon. He swears time must’ve slowed down when pale lashes fluttered as Phainon blinked, and Mydei has to remember just how dire the circumstance is.

He’s fucked.

Phainon looked stunned at the very least, lips slightly parted as he mirrored Mydei’s lack of movement, staring at each other in startled silence.

“...Mydei.”

Mydei’s mind scrambles for a reply. He wonders what kind of expression he must be making right now. 

“Phainon,” he addresses lamely. 

A beat passes before Phainon cracks a smile. Mydei can no longer distinguish if it's genuine or not, and he feels something within him cave in on itself.

“H-Hey,” Phainon says. And then he waves a hand. 

Mydei follows the movement just to stare at anything else aside from Phainon’s face. Phainon doesn’t drop his hand—a small mercy—and Mydei continues to stare. He’s never known himself to be religious, but he’s been praying to every god or deity or whatever symbol of worship known to man for the ground to swallow him whole ever since he walked out of the bathroom. 

Belatedly, he remembers that Phainon might expect a greeting in return and so he says a rather flat, “Hello.”

Phainon’s smile falters imperceptibly, somewhat becoming a muted version of the previous one. Mydei could taste blood in his mouth.

“I just saw Aunt Gorgo earlier,” Phainon tells him, striking a conversation that Mydei now has the misfortune of continuing.

“Me, too,” Mydei replies for whatever foolish reason had compelled him to. He only realizes what he’d said when Phainon’s expression morphs into subtle confusion, like Mydei had just told him he ate seven lions for breakfast. He clears his throat. “...I mean, we came here together.”

“Yes,” Phainon agrees. He looked entirely unsure about perhaps even his own existence and Mydei can’t say he blames him. “Yes, I know. She told me.”

Mydei nods again. “Okay.”

After fifteen years of no contact, this is the first conversation they’re having—if it could even be considered as one. Deciding to no longer torment either of them any further, Mydei makes a move to leave. A tactical retreat.

“Well then,” he began, taking one heavy step away from the bathroom just in case Phainon needed to use it. “See you around.”

“Wait—!”

Just as Mydei was about to get out of Phainon’s direct vicinity, a hand on his wrist makes him stop in his tracks completely. He’s faintly reminded of how prey would be willing to bite off their limbs just to escape a trap. As of this moment, he feels no different. 

He turns around, dropping his gaze to the pale hand on his wrist which thankfully retreats just as quickly as it had made its contact. The warmth of the touch still lingers. Mydei should hate it.

Phainon’s eyes are wide, as if equally in shock at what he just did. “Sorry! I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean— I wasn’t—”

“It’s fine,” Mydei manages. “Did you need something?”

“No,” Phainon answers way too quickly.

Mydei hates how a mild disappointment, something that ought to have been inconsequential if his mind could only have the heart to ignore it, settles within him upon hearing that. “Okay.”

“I’m sorry.”

For grabbing him, Mydei assumes. Again, “It’s fine.”

Silence ensues. Mydei wants to dissipate into thin air as he watches Phainon just wordlessly stand in front of him like a robot buffering for the correct output. 

Not like Mydei is any different. What do you even do in this situation?

After a short while of that and most likely (in Mydei’s part at least) doing mental gymnastics in their heads, Phainon was finally able to speak, which is far from a blessing in and of itself.

“You look good.”

Mydei tries not to think too much of it. He’s received a lot of compliments in his time, surely this is no different—is what he tries to delude himself into thinking as he feels a traitorous, distinct fluttering sensation in his gut. 

“Thanks,” Mydei replies. “You, too.”

A slight twitch in Phainon’s expression causes Mydei to realize that he’d done it again. And really, it’s so over for him already he might as well just die.

You, too? 

It’s not a lie, per se. But that sounds like he’s checking Phainon out. And if that’s the case, does that mean Phainon’s been checking him out? Knowing Phainon, he must’ve only said that to be polite. Mydei is just returning the favor. 

Of course, that’s all there is to it.

Phainon scratches his nape, laughing in a somewhat assumably strained manner that makes Mydei’s skin prickle with something he couldn’t name. He doesn’t recall saying anything remotely funny. Nothing about this situation is funny, thank you very much.

“Coming from you, I’m quite flattered,” Phainon tells him.

Now what’s that even supposed to mean?

“…Sure.” 

Mydei turns to the end of the hallway where the chatter was louder. For once, he’d rather be in a crowded place than be on his own with Phainon. The conversation is bound to die sooner than later anyway, so why bother trying?

“If there’s nothing else,” Mydei starts, a second attempt to retreat in mind. “I’ll just—”

“We ran out of paper towels,” Phainon blurts out.

Mydei gives him a blank stare, unsure as to how he should respond to that. Thankfully, Phainon follows up rather quickly instead of taking his sweet ass time keeping Mydei on edge.

“I was just about to leave to go buy some,” Phainon continues hesitantly, a blunt nail scratching at his cheek. It’s a thing he does when he’s feeling embarrassed. Mydei hates the fact that he still remembers this. “I think… I’ll need some help?”

Tilting his head, Mydei’s eyebrows furrow slightly. Did Phainon need his help in carrying them? But they’re not so heavy, are they? Just how many paper towels is Phainon planning on buying?

Nevertheless, with the way Phainon is looking at him like he’d burst into tears when Mydei so much as breathes the wrong way—which could imply his disinclination to the request—Mydei finds that even after all these years, it’s still quite physically impossible to say no to Phainon.

Five minutes later, he’s already in Phainon’s car as Phainon maneuvered out of the driveway after a hasty goodbye to Audata and Gorgo who were both befuddled to see both of them leave the birthday party. Phainon’s explanations tumbled out incoherently, none of which made much sense.

Mydei thinks he’d blacked out because how does he already have his seatbelt on and everything without so much as an internal debate raging within his mind. It’s rather too late, perhaps, to tell Phainon to stop the car when they’re already on the road with the radio turned off and the air conditioning cranked up high and blasting at their faces to combat the heat.

It’s way too quiet as Phainon focused his eyes ahead. Only one hand at the steering wheel causes Mydei to purse his lips in utter disappointment. 

Though Mydei is far from being a perfect driver, he’d at least keep both of his hands on the wheel instead of this lackadaisical front Phainon is putting up just to look cool. 

Not like Mydei admits that Phainon looks cool driving a car. He’s seen plenty of people drive cars before and they all look remotely average. And Phainon is still average. 

“Are you comfortable?” Phainon asks once they reach an intersection, shooting a glance at Mydei’s direction as the car gradually comes to a stop in front of the red light. “Or is it still too hot?”

“I’m fine,” Mydei answers, hating how often he’s been saying that lately to the point that it doesn’t even sound like the truth anymore.

“That’s… good to hear,” Phainon says in return.

The conversation dies before the traffic light could even turn green. Phainon squirms lightly in the driver’s seat, tapping his fingers without rhythm on the wheel, and even repeatedly readjusting his side mirrors as they both stew in the silence of their own making. 

Mydei feels bad enough to try and ease the tension a little bit, which is a tough ask for someone who’s been screaming from the inside since the moment Phainon dragged him to his car and drove away.

(Phainon did not essentially drag Mydei to his car. In fact, Phainon had been quite thorough in making sure that Mydei did want to come with him.)

Still, Phainon expresses discomfort in ways that are also uncomfortable for Mydei so, he opens his mouth and utters the first of generic small talk starter prompts his brain could come up with at the moment.

“You can drive now.”

Mydei rethinks his words too late as Phainon visibly jolts beside him, going still momentarily before he could even step his foot down upon the accelerator. 

“The light’s not green yet,” Phainon tells him, peering up to check the traffic lights.

Mydei also checks for some reason, leaning forward from his seat slightly. “Yes. It’s still red.”

“...Yeah.”

Mydei thinks he should’ve gone with the safer option of asking what brand of paper towels they would be buying. ‘You can drive now’ is just ridiculous considering that Phainon is a man in his thirties who owns a car.

It’s not Phainon’s fault for misunderstanding.

With the silence bearing down on them, Phainon taps on the steering wheel once more and Mydei almost forgets what he was supposed to say in the first place.

“I mean.” Mydei turns to Phainon and wills his heart not to beat too loud when Phainon meets his gaze. “The last time we saw each other, you couldn’t even drive.”

It’s nobody’s business at this point if Mydei is digging his own grave so he could lie on it and never get up with how he can’t seem to help but bring up the past. 

Realization dawns on Phainon’s face far quicker than Mydei would expect. Something so simple is enough to give Mydei food for thought that perhaps Phainon hasn’t quite forgotten what had happened fifteen years ago. 

Just as Mydei had not. And fearfully, never.

Phainon breaks into a smile at that, eyes crinkling as he does so, and Mydei aches at the sight of the subtle makings of wrinkles from the corners of Phainon’s eyes reminding him just how much time had already passed. 

“Ah,” Phainon utters, laughing softly. “Believe it or not, I had a shitty teacher.”

“How so?” Mydei asks, equal parts trying to keep the conversation going and just being plain curious. As far as he’d remembered, Phainon rarely talked bad about other people. 

But then again, it’s been more than a decade. 

Something in Phainon’s eyes glint, like he’d wanted Mydei to ask. And it reminds Mydei of all the times Phainon had baited him to ask things that would result in ridiculous answers during their youth. Though the dread just barely simmers to the surface, Mydei surprisingly finds that he’s never really minded Phainon’s antics when they were young. 

Phainon barely stifles a snicker. “He scared me with his yelling and threatened me multiple times to not crash his car when there aren’t even any vehicles around to crash into.”

“Phainon, I’m going to kill you— The brakes. You see a speed bump, you hit the brakes!”

“You’re making me nervous!”

“Says the guy who chose to swerve to the side of the road just to avoid a speed bump! You can’t do that on an actual road!”

“Mydei, we are on an actual road.”

“You can’t even keep the car on the road, you dumbass.”

The small smile that slowly made its way to Mydei’s lips can’t be helped as he recounted the memory. Aedes Elysiae wasn’t exactly known for its hustle and bustle, and the only vehicles travelling on the road were trucks carrying produce from the farms to the main city. And even then, they’d only ever be on the road during nights so late but too early to be considered as morning.

He never did think he did a good job in teaching Phainon. It is likely that Phainon got an actual professional to teach him after Mydei left. Inclined to assume that Phainon’s just teasing, something in Mydei’s heart twists at this faint familiarity—the fact that he still knows something about Phainon after all these years, something about him that hasn’t changed at all.

“Maybe your driving teacher was just fed up with you being so slow to pick up the basics,” Mydei retorts lightheartedly, mindful of how easy it is to say something, falling back to fond habits of banter that rarely ever ends. “Like hitting the brakes and using the correct indicator lights, for example.”

Phainon snorts beside him. The light had turned green at last. “Yeah. You sound just like him.”

Mydei lets out a noncommittal hum, easing back into his seat as he watches the passing scenery outside the window—unsurprisingly, the area was starkly different compared to fifteen years ago. Mydei has known of this fact since the time he’d once again stepped foot in the city he’d long since stopped calling his home.

The conversation eventually quietened as Phainon returned his focus on the road. Fortunately, the silence this time was much more bearable compared to the one from earlier.

They pass by at least two grocery stores before Mydei gets an inkling that Phainon had made an excuse just to get him in his car. Not like buying paper towels required any assistance anyway, so maybe Mydei shouldn’t feel so tricked upon saying yes to such an absurd request.

“I can feel you shooting mean looks at me,” Phainon tells him. Given the upturn of the corner of his lips, he doesn’t exactly seem perturbed by this. “Did I do something wrong?”

The nerve of this man to ask, Mydei thinks to himself. “No. I just assumed that I’d be able to spend more time with Audata considering it’s her birthday. Should’ve included her son hoping to buy paper towels at the next town over to the equation, I guess.”

Phainon laughs. “Is it wrong of me to want to have you for myself first?”

“You’ve always been so shameless.”

“I’m just really happy to see you again,” is Phainon’s excuse. 

Though nonchalantly said, it makes Mydei’s breath stutter, that fluttering in his stomach returns—one he hasn’t felt in years and yet has already felt twice in a row barely even an hour in breathing the same air as Phainon. A weight settles within him at the implication of that, like there’s these heavy metal balls tied around with chains around his ankles as he sank to the depths of the ocean. 

Since the week he’d gotten that invitation to Audata’s birthday, Mydei was torn between the dread of seeing Phainon again after so long, and the longing to find a conclusion to the falling out that had happened years ago. 

And here is Phainon now, making it seem like they’d parted amicably. Like Mydei is just one of his old neighbors who he used to spend his days with and just got out of touch due to the distance. As if the ache that comes and goes from time to time since they parted was something only Mydei had suffered through. 

Phainon takes a quick glance in his direction brought on by his silence, his smile faltering at what he’d seen on Mydei’s face. Mydei couldn’t be bothered to think of his expression at this moment when he can’t even begin to subsume what he’s currently feeling into simple words. 

The hand gripping the steering wheel turns ever paler as Phainon squeezes. Subtle, but Mydei notices it all the same. 

“...Even though you don’t seem happy to see me.”

Defensively, Mydei replies, “I am happy to see you.”

He is. In a sense that he’s happy to see Phainon doing alright. Despite everything, they’re still friends. Despite everything. Of course.

Phainon laughs, a strained sound. Somehow, the air in the car has gotten colder. “Are you trying to comfort me?”

“Why would I do that?” Mydei asks.

“Because you’re the kindest person I know.”

Mydei scoffs in disbelief.

“It’s true,” Phainon reiterates. “When I invited you, I thought you’d simply ignore my email. Or maybe you’ve forgotten me altogether.”

“You’re still on to that?” Mydei asks, growing annoyed by where the direction of their conversation was heading. Regardless of their efforts to ease the tension, they’re still bound to end up addressing the elephant in the room in some way.

Phainon stops the car in front of another red light, finally having the time to peel his eyes off the road long enough to turn to Mydei with a confused look. “On to what?”

“...Nevermind. How’d you even get my email?”

“Your bakery website.”

Right. 

Mydei forgot the part that he was about to send a message to his team regarding seasonal specialties when he’d seen Phainon’s email. What he does remember is breaking into cold sweat and going to the bathroom to puke his guts out an hour before he told his mother that they’re invited to Audata’s 60th birthday.

“How’d you even know that I own it?”

The light turns green and Phainon makes a left toward the road that Mydei knew had an exit that led to a highway out of town. He doesn’t point it out.

“A colleague of mine frequents your bakery,” Phainon answers. “A month ago, she begged me to come try it out but I never had the time to go. She gave up eventually and just sent me the website so I can order online. Then I saw your name and your picture, so…”

A month ago. 

Phainon knew he was in Okhema for a month and Mydei only heard from him a week before today. 

It’s not that he expected Phainon to visit him after what went down between them, but maybe Phainon being unaware that they’re both in the same city would’ve made Mydei feel just a tad bit better—that Phainon had an excuse to not come and see him.

But then again, it’s not like he was ready to see Phainon so soon either when he’s still establishing his business in a place that was once familiar and now felt foreign. 

“I see,” is all Mydei could reply.

Phainon takes the exit to the highway as expected, and Mydei says nothing. A quiet admission, he supposes, because despite his internal protests, an irrational part of himself considers that spending time alone with Phainon after fifteen years of not seeing each other didn’t seem as bad as it should sound.

The urban scenery eventually faded as they neared the coastal towns. The sight of the sea makes Mydei feel a subtle yet ever-growing dread rising to his throat, triggering some sort of flight response within him. 

He’d never once ventured to the sea ever since he left Okhema. Not since Aedes Elysiae. 

Phainon eventually pulled over to the side of the road, an empty rest stop that provided a nice view of the ocean as well as the small village below near the coasts. Though Aedes Elysiae was still some long ways away, the sight is too damn similar that the déjà vu hits Mydei like a sack of bricks.

“So, where do you suppose the paper towel aisle is located?” Mydei asks as he and Phainon both get out of the vehicle. 

The sea breeze is nice against the summer heat, and Mydei could almost feel the splash of saltwater against his face—lingering sensations from memories that should’ve long been forgotten.

Phainon laughs, clear and melodious. “I don’t know. Should we ask the seagull staff?”

Despite everything, Mydei manages to crack a small smile. It fades rather quickly when Phainon leans against the railing and reaches for something in his pocket—a box of cigarettes and a lighter. 

“Want one?”

Mydei’s eyes settle on the opened, half-empty box cradled in Phainon’s outstretched hand. The subtle scent of menthol clings to the air between them. There’s something incongruous about it all that he couldn’t quite put a finger on just yet. 

“Since when did you smoke?” Mydei asks, unable to help himself.

Phainon’s hand withdraws with a quiet, almost apologetic motion. He looked somewhat sheepish, gaze skimming away from Mydei and landing somewhere vague. 

He murmurs, “It’s… on and off. Probably a decade now. Just took it up again recently.”

Mydei raises an eyebrow, though his tone remains neutral. “Does your mother know about this?” 

It’s a rather stupid question, and it hangs in the air for a moment, absurd and unintentional in its childishness. 

Mydei does not blame Phainon at all when he replies with a befuddled, "Mydei, I’m thirty-three.”

We’re not kids anymore, is what Mydei hears instead. The implications that coat such a simple statement would take far too long to peel away.

That puts an end to it. 

“I don’t want one,” Mydei says simply, answering Phainon’s initial question.

Phainon tilts his head, cigarette pinched loosely between two fingers. “Do you mind if I—”

“Do whatever you want.”

He doesn’t look at Phainon when he says it, the sight of the waves crashing to the shore somewhat more interesting, drowning out the sound of the sharp click of the lighter and the scent of smoke beginning to curl from beside him.

There’s something dissonant about it—this image of Phainon with a cigarette between his lips, drawing in smoke like it’s second nature. The vice doesn’t suit the memory that Mydei keeps of him, etched in sepia tones of adolescence: that lanky boy with crooked grins and startlingly blue eyes always wide with wonder, who wore his naivety like second skin and truly believed in good things.

But the man beside him now is no longer made of such simple faith; time has evidently measured his smiles and muted the light in his eyes. There’s a quiet fatigue behind them now, as though he’s seen too much and said too little now that Mydei looks a little closer without the initial shock addling his mind.

He supposes that expecting Phainon to not have changed would be a reach considering how much time had passed. He wonders if Phainon’s sentiments about him in the now mirrors his, if Phainon thinks he’s changed as well—if Phainon would call him out on it.

Mydei had spent years of deluding himself that he’s no longer that boy who spent every waking hour beside Phainon, and went to sleep hoping tomorrow would be the same. The same boy who got his heart broken at eighteen, who trusted a love he thought was something more only to realize the bitter truth that there were things best left as is, and mistakes acknowledged as mistakes.  

He wonders if he’d simply left for Kremnos, if he hadn’t stayed and went to Aedes Elysiae with Phainon, would they have a much better reunion now? A memory remembered to be filled with joy and perhaps a tearful goodbye that lasted a moment—and not fifteen years of unspoken words and regret. 

An inconsolable ache. For Mydei, that was the case. They say that if you bask in the sun too much, it gets rather harmful. 

“So, why’d you take me here?” Mydei asks at last.

Phainon huffs disbelievingly, but the smile on his lips remains. “I don’t know, Mydei. How have you been doing all these years? Aside from owning the new most popular bakery in the block, what else have you been up to? We haven’t seen each other since—”

“You left for the Grove. Without ever mentioning it,” Mydei interrupts. 

He’s still eighteen at that moment. Confused and betrayed. There’s a bite in his tone like the fact still pisses him off even when it shouldn’t have. Not when there’s so much time in between for the wound to scar over. 

Phainon goes quiet, and Mydei relishes at the brief sense of victory at first. But Phainon’s never one to let Mydei have the final word.

“And you drove off without saying goodbye,” Phainon says in return after a while, like it’s a way of keeping score. “Didn’t even bother to write to me like you promised.”

We don’t have to do this, Mydei wanted to say. He expected Phainon to skirt around the issue, to amuse Mydei with small talk that mattered no less than a grain of sand. There’s an inexplicable feeling at the thought that their past must’ve weighed on Phainon just as much as it did with Mydei. 

Or perhaps Phainon didn’t want to bear the baggage any longer and wished to be rid of it by airing it out and settling it like the adults they are now. 

“Fine,” Mydei acquiesces begrudgingly, knowing full well that he might come to regret this later on. “I guess we do have a lot to talk about.”

•

Aedes Elysiae was a small coastal town where everyone knew everyone. Though Phainon was essentially a stranger to the place despite being born there, his paternal and maternal grandparents welcomed him with open arms causing him to shed away the anxiety he wore like second skin during the entirety of the drive there.

“This is Mydei,” Phainon tells them after a moment of hugging and cooing after their grandson who had ‘grown so tall’ followed by incessant ‘you were just a baby when we last saw you’s’. “He’s a very close friend of mine.”

Mydei stood by the doorway, slouching just so his head won’t touch the frame, his luggage by his side as he smiles awkwardly. “Hello.”

Though Mydei isn’t exactly comfortable with being too touchy with people he’s not close with, he finds that being smothered by Phainon’s grandparents didn’t feel so bad. 

They eat lunch outside, overlooking the wheat fields. Perhaps in a few weeks’ time they’ll be ready for harvest, maybe even sooner. As Phainon indulges in the attention from his family, Mydei is more than content enough to watch as they scooped seconds to Phainon’s plate, pinched his cheeks, and told him to eat some more so he could grow strong and healthy.

“You should take Mydei to the beach,” Phainon’s grandfather tells him, the lines at the corner of his eyes crinkling as he spoke. Mydei could tell he’s someone that smiled easily. “The water is lovely at this time of year.”

Phainon beams at this, glancing at Mydei’s direction as if wordlessly asking for permission. Not like Mydei would be able to say no when Phainon looks this happy. A simple nod from him should be enough.

The beach was no short of breathtaking, and Mydei’s first thought when the edges of shallow waves met the shores was how his mother had been right—this place is perfect. He could already picture her smile if only Eurypon had been a considerate husband.

“Woah,” Phainon marvels beside him, pulling him out of his thoughts. He then strips his shirt and throws it towards nowhere in particular, and runs into the water until it reaches just past his ankles before turning to Mydei with a blinding grin that could rival the noontime sun. “What are you still standing around for?”

Mydei wasn’t ready to swim. In fact, he didn’t think he’d be swimming today. He simply wanted to see the ocean. 

“I’m waiting for you to drown,” he retorts, loud enough for Phainon to hear him amidst the crashing waves. 

Phainon sticks his tongue out tauntingly before smiling from ear to ear as he beckons Mydei over. Mydei laments the fact that he’s too easy when it comes to going along with Phainon’s whims, berating himself over it even as he peels his shirt off and throws it beside Phainon’s on the sand.

The seawater was cool against his heated skin, his feet sinking into the soft sand as the waves drew back before coating the shores once more. It didn’t take long before he’s in front of Phainon who’s grown unusually quiet all of a sudden, with only his head above the water, seemingly caught in a trance as he stared.

Mydei stands tall. The water is shallow and the surface barely reached his waist. An eyebrow raised, he asks, “What are you looki—?”

He feels something cold splash against his face, followed immediately by the sting of the saltwater making its way into his eyes. 

“You—!”

Phainon’s laugh reverberates around Mydei as he tried to blink away the pain. When he could finally keep his eyes open long enough without wincing, he sees red, scoops up water with both of his hands and splashes all of them towards Phainon’s direction.

Already anticipating the revenge, Phainon dives into the water to shield himself from the onslaught. Mydei simply marches where he could reach Phainon enough to grab the two stubborn strands atop his head to pull him up.

Phainon wipes the water off his face as he grins. How Mydei wishes looks could kill right now. 

“You’re lucky the tide is low,” Mydei threatens, still holding onto Phainon’s hair. “I wouldn’t have an excuse for everyone to believe you simply drowned and died.”

“Scary,” Phainon chimes. And then splashes Mydei’s face again, using the distraction to slip free and wade into the water much further away from Mydei’s clutches.

Mydei swears to hell and high water that Phainon would get his due comeuppance. 

It’s like that for perhaps an hour, or more. Mydei’s lost track and it didn’t seem as if Phainon was paying any attention to the time either with how he’s adamant to keep his score above Mydei’s in this game of who gets splashed on the face more often.

After that, they have a swimming competition—which doesn’t really work considering there are no markers to signify the finish line. Phainon suggests to swim from further back into the sea and towards the shore, but Mydei errs to the side of caution and decides against it, worried the tide might come back and neither of them are really that proficient at swimming. 

Phainon sulks at this as he lets the waves rock him back and forth amidst the shallow water, fingers clinging to the sand below whilst the rest of his body remained afloat. He scrapes his knee then, perhaps from a drifting shell, or a small rock, and whines incessantly about it to Mydei. Either way, Mydei decides they leave the water for now to see if the sand is good for building castles.

Ill-judgement led them to build too close to the water. With the tide returning alongside the imminent setting of the sun, both of their ‘castles’ end up as mere mounds of sand with no shape to boast for. 

At least the sunset looked nice.

“Mother would’ve loved it here,” Mydei says, staring at the sky as it paints itself with oranges and purples. 

He and Phainon were currently seated upon the sand, water lapping at the tips of their toes as the fabric of their shirts stuck to their skins in odd places for they never even bothered to dry off properly. “If my father isn’t such a dick, we would’ve been able to come here sooner.”

Phainon snorts beside him. “Either that, or you get a dad who died from a mill accident before you were even born.”

Mydei turns to his side. Phainon’s eyes merely reflected the sun sinking into the horizon. “…Where did that come from?”

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to mention it.”

“That’s not something you have to apologize for,” Mydei murmurs with a huff. “It’s the first time you’re bringing it up on your own, though.”

Phainon smiles wistfully, bringing his knees closer to himself. “They told me that I… look like him. Which is crazy because I’ve seen his pictures, and the only thing we have in common are our eyes.” He sighs and shakes his head. “I’m making this about myself, aren’t I?”

“Between shit talking my father and talking about you, I’d pick the latter anytime,” Mydei says honestly. “And this trip is about you. To see your birthplace and spend time with your grandparents.”

Phainon frowns at this, sunburnt cheeks almost imperceptibly a shade darker. “I suppose that makes sense,” he replies. “Still, this trip is so you can experience the Best Summer Ever.”

Mydei groans, the sound muffled as he buries his face in his hands out of sheer cringe, enough to give him goosebumps. “Move away from that tagline. Just stab me next time instead of saying it.”

“What’s wrong with it?”

“Everything, Phainon. Everything.”

Phainon huffs, rolling his eyes. “You’re so hard to please.” He stretches his legs out, heels digging into the sand. “Anyway, all the more reason for you to come visit Okhema—to go see Aedes Elysiae. You’re living proof that this place is awesome. Better than Kremnos, I bet.”

Mydei resists the urge to point out that not everything has to be a competition. But he didn’t have the energy to argue and didn’t really find the need to defend Kremnos in any way. 

“Yeah,” he agrees easily this time. “Would be nice to have mother here. She might even be able to convince Aunt Audata to come.”

Phainon laughs, something that didn’t sound too pleased at the notion. “She wouldn’t,” he says. “This place reminds her of dad too much.” 

Mydei doesn’t have anything to reply to that. Not like he had the right to comment on it. 

“Honestly,” Phainon continues in place of Mydei’s silence. “Returning to a place where you’ve lost someone important… sounds quite difficult, doesn’t it? I don’t think I’d be able to do it.”

Mydei thinks the same. But instead of voicing this out loud, he lets his unspoken sentiments be swallowed by the sound of the waves. It’s already enough for Phainon to carry his own burdens. If Mydei told him his, there’s no doubt that he’d insist to shoulder Mydei’s as well. He could put all the superheroes to shame with that kind of mindset. 

They both decided to return home for dinner after the sun had fully set, the skies dark and littered with stars you’d barely see in the city. Phainon had lost a slipper into the sea and had to walk home with one foot bare. Mydei teases him for it, then, only for the strap of his slipper to snap after he trips over a stray piece of rock. 

It had been rather difficult to wipe the grin off of Phainon’s face. “You deserved that.”

Mydei smacks the back of Phainon’s head with his broken slipper, cursing his luck because the universe just had to make him share Phainon’s misfortune in all this. It’s ridiculous.

They have dinner at Hieronymous’—Phainon’s late father’s—home. Grilled fish that Phainon’s grandfather, Demetrios, had caught himself, cooked with lemon and oregano. Dessert had been the sweet figs that their neighbor brought in earlier that day. 

Phainon then proceeds to tell Euphemia, his grandmother, that Mydei’s favorite food is fig stew, and to have some of the fruit saved up to cook for tomorrow. Mydei was absolutely horrified by the presumptuousness, kicking Phainon beneath the table to remind him to have some shame. The guy doesn’t even flinch and only gives him a wink. 

Euphemia fortunately seems delighted to hear of this and promises Mydei to serve fig stew for tomorrow’s lunch. Mydei says his thanks and internally vows to strangle Phainon in his sleep later on.

They ultimately decide to stay with Demetrios and Euphemia for the duration of their visit considering that they have a spare room that’s ready for use. Though Mydei could see Phainon’s unease at the idea of having to sleep in his late father’s bedroom, neither he nor Mydei could afford to be picky; Audata’s once bedroom at Phainon’s maternal grandparents’ house had long since been used to store grain ever since Audata married. 

The bed is thankfully just big enough to fit the both of them, and Mydei should not have any qualms with this. He’s shared a bed with Phainon before (the last time they ever did so was when they were both thirteen, when Mydei ran away from home after a particularly nasty spat with Eurypon) so it’ll be fine. Definitely.

Not like anything’s changed between them, something of this sort shouldn’t warrant any awkwardness, is what Mydei hopes despite the subtle tingle on his skin at the thought of sleeping together with Phainon. There’s a similarity to this situation—how they both used to take baths together when they were young after splashing around in the inflatable pool at Phainon’s backyard, uncaring of seeing each other naked, but stopped when they were a bit older because it’s, well. Weird.

Just as the door closes behind after Demetrios has hauled in the last of their luggage and told them to not stay up too late, the silence in the bedroom was simply too overbearing to ignore.

“I’ll sleep on the floor,” Mydei offers, considering that Phainon technically has more rights to sleep on the bed. 

Phainon scoffs because of course everything has to be argued upon. “Why?”

“You kick too much in your sleep,” Mydei reasons, some semblance of truth in it. He wonders if Phainon has grown out of the habit, though. 

“So? You snore,” Phainon shoots back, no relation whatsoever to what they were initially talking about.

Mydei denies this. “No, I don’t.”

“You do. You also drool in your sleep.”

“I don’t.” Not anymore. Mydei’s not exactly sure but he’s not about to give Phainon the satisfaction of being right about something that ought to have been a fact ages ago.

“Okay,” Phainon nods. “We can sleep together, then.”

“What?”

Phainon was already tucking himself in, claiming the right side of the bed to Mydei’s chagrin. That was supposed to be his side—not like it matters when his mind ought to already be set on sleeping on the floor. Or maybe the worn-out couch in the living room, but that would raise questions of which Mydei barely has any energy to address.

“Since you no longer snore and drool, then you can sleep beside me,” Phainon tells him simply, suppressing a yawn. “And turn off the lights.”

“Phainon, I told you I’m sleeping on the floor,” Mydei says, trying to regain control of the conversation. Again, “Because you kick too much in your sleep.” And because the idea of sleeping beside you makes me feel weird in that inexplicable, indescribable, stupidly tingly way, goes unsaid for obvious reasons.

Phainon huffs and places a lone pillow right in the middle of the bed to act as some sort of boundary between them before turning his back on Mydei.

“There. Problem solved.”

Mydei stares. “Fine.” 

“Fine,” Phainon says back adamantly. “Turn off the lights.”

Mydei does so, but not before noticing at the last minute the way the shell of Phainon’s exposed ear burned a bright shade of red, a stark contrast to the paleness of his skin. Must be sunburn. He flicks the light switch off and makes a mental reminder to bring sunblock the next time they go to the beach. 

As soon as his head hit the pillow, the exhaustion of the day immediately creeps in and he finds that his reluctance from earlier didn’t even matter in the end with how quickly he falls into a dreamless sleep, the ebb of the waves still lingering even as he laid still.

The next morning, Mydei wakes up to the sound of roosters crowing with the arrival of the day. And the fact that what he’d been holding close against him all night in his sleep wasn’t a pillow at all. 

Phainon’s soft and steady breaths blow gently against the crown of Mydei’s head, still fortunately asleep and undeniably clueless to their current situation. Heart thudding in his chest at lack of distance between their bodies, Mydei tries to extricate himself away from Phainon, careful not to wake the latter up.

But Phainon simply doesn’t budge, trapping Mydei’s body in his embrace, clammy feet pressing against Mydei’s shins in an uncomfortable tangle of limbs. 

“Phainon.”

Phainon merely hums in his sleep. And pulls Mydei even closer for some reason, knocking the air out of Mydei’s lungs, the tip of his nose barely grazing Phainon’s collarbone. 

“Phainon.”

“…Hm?”

“Let me go.”

Phainon mumbles something unintelligible. Mydei realizes rather quickly that he doesn’t have the patience to deal with… this. And so, he does the next best thing.

A thud is heard at the next moment followed by a loud yelp. Mydei waits for the head of pale, disheveled hair to pop into view from beside the edge of the mattress. It doesn’t take long, paired with glaring blue eyes.

“What was that for?” Phainon demands, rubbing the side of his head, squinting to keep his eyes open. 

“You were smothering me in your sleep,” Mydei tells him, arms crossed and feeling particularly warm even though the humidity of the day hasn’t arrived yet considering it’s so early in the morning. Probably.

Phainon only grumbles something in return before slumping half of his body back on the bed, face smushed against the mattress and seemingly on the verge of falling asleep again. Mydei is quite tempted to lay back down but a light knock on the door halts the thought.

It was Euphemia asking them if they’re awake. Mydei answers ‘yes’ just to hear Phainon groan indignantly beside him, his plans to sleep in obviously no longer on the table. Nevertheless, they both take turns freshening up before squabbling on who gets to leave the room first, shoving each other against the door frame as they do so.

Though Mydei has somewhat broader shoulders and should have, in retrospect, the obvious advantage, Phainon still ends up winning with a shit-eating grin.

“Count your days,” Mydei growls.

Phainon merely whistles a happy tune as they enter the kitchen to see Euphemia preparing breakfast. While Mydei helps out in the kitchen, Phainon assists Demetrios in feeding the animals and milking the cows. 

After eating, they then spend the rest of their day with Audata’s parents—Andreas and Leda—alongside a few other villagers to tend to the wheat that had turned the fields into a warm, golden landscape. 

Mydei can’t think of any other sight to compare to the one before him as he lets his palms graze the tip of the burnished golden stalks as they swayed gently with the wind that made the summer heat a bit more bearable. 

“Hey,” Phainon calls from behind him. “I almost lost you in these fields. You blend right in.”

“What does that even mean?” Mydei asks, turning around to meet Phainon who grinned as if he had something amusing in mind. 

Phainon merely shrugs instead of giving an answer to Mydei’s question. “Granny Leda asked me to give this to you,” he says, handing Mydei a sickle. “She already taught me the basics on how to use it so, I’ll teach you.”

For the next fifteen minutes, Mydei concludes that perhaps it would’ve been quicker if he figured out how to use a sickle by himself. Phainon is a horrible teacher in a way that he explains too much and demonstrates too little.

But Mydei doesn’t mind too much because the act of harvesting wheat is far too easy to understand when you’re actually doing it. He doesn’t tell Phainon that his instruction was moot; the proud look on Phainon’s face as Mydei showed him a bunch of wheat held in a tight fistful was rewarding in a sense that he realized he simply liked making Phainon feel good about himself. 

Phainon, in turn, later repays him by offering a much larger bundle of wheat, this time with flowers he’d picked up from who knows where. It looks more charming than strange, and it makes Mydei feel warmer than necessary

“Here,” Phainon says, some of his hair sticking to his forehead with bits of golden grain stuck along the pale strands. “The village kids helped me put it together. For you.”

Though the air has cooled significantly now that it’s well past noon and nearing evening, Phainon’s face is still as pink as before. Mydei wonders if Phainon had taken his advice to apply sunscreen beforehand. By the looks of things, it seems that Phainon had lent him a deaf ear. Unsurprisingly.

Mydei takes the bundle. “Thanks.”

“Wanna swim at the beach for a bit before dinner?”

The trip down to the ocean expectedly became a race between them with Phainon howling taunts as he sprinted ahead for he was always the faster one, as Mydei would loathe to admit to himself, much less out loud. Longer legs, Mydei’s mind supplies unhelpfully for he starts to think of Phainon’s legs as he ran—the tensing of muscles beneath his shorts, the sheen of sweat that coated his pale thighs—

So Mydei loses the race. Phainon was already knee-deep into the seawater when Mydei neared the shore, catching waves pitifully with his hands, fingers outstretched as the waters slipped past in between the spaces. 

Phainon looks back at him and smiles. The light of the gradually sinking sun catches the side of his face. The way it illuminates him makes him look angelic to a fault. And Mydei is, almost immediately, at odds with himself for there’s this urge to curl into a ball to wrap around this despicable want he’d tried so very hard to ignore. 

Mydei is not quite sure when it all started. Some days, he’d be painfully aware of Phainon as if there had been a shift of gravity that draws him in. Glances turning to long looks, why Phainon maundering on and on about mundane topics that concerned neither of them somehow fascinated Mydei that he finds himself hanging on to every word like it’s gospel.

And then those some days became most days. Until Mydei had simply learned to live with the change. He doesn’t see Phainon any differently, but it is as if everything he sees about Phainon had been magnified into several calibers of strength, each supposed insignificant thing Mydei finds himself mulling over at night before sleep.

It hits Mydei harder than he would’ve liked—how he used to find the idea of romance something that doesn’t quite appeal to him. But when it comes to Phainon, every notion of romance out there seems to pale in comparison. And he wonders whether it's because Phainon made it so easy to feel this way, or if their friendship was simply too good that Mydei had begun to yearn for something more.

Perhaps it is quite common for human nature to find difficulty in being content. 

When Phainon gave him an extra piece of pomegranate flavored candy because it was his favorite, perhaps Mydei should’ve thought nothing of it.

But then there’s the memory of Phainon waiting for him outside the school so they could bike home together every single day without fail because Mydei’s last period teacher is an asshole and always dismissed late. 

And also the time when Phainon got a particularly bad haircut that was too short in all the wrong places. Though Phainon lamented the way he looked then, Mydei found him quite endearing still, atrocious haircut and all. His fingers had twitched and the urge to run his hands across the short, coarse strands of white hair happened more often than not that it ought to be embarrassing by that point.

“Mydei?” Phainon calls from the waters.

“What?”

A laugh follows. Mydei could feel his chest tighten and he finds himself staring at nothing in particular. 

“You spaced out,” Phainon says.

There’s the sound of a splash and Mydei feels the fabric of his shirt and his face dampen at the next second. He draws in a breath because it’s always like this—he gets these thoughts that leave him unmoored and feeling almost sorry for himself only for Phainon to do something that would have him counting to ten just to get a grip on his patience. 

It was absurd. The way exasperation and affection had long since been blurred into the same tangled mess that’s now grown to be a pain to deal with. And it’s safer, for Mydei, to feel irritation rather than dwell on something far more soft and fond because Phainon is always supposed to annoy him. 

Whether or not Mydei likes it when Phainon annoys him is an entirely different can of worms that’s not to be opened in the foreseeable future.

He refrains from spouting something relatively threatening because that’s what Phainon wants and it’ll eventually lead into another competition between them. Not like he’d be able to say no, Mydei thinks pathetically to himself as he gently places Phainon’s wheat bouquet on top of his shirt after stripping, making sure the waves won’t be able to reach it, before joining Phainon into the waters to wash off the sweat and grime and grain of the day’s hard work.

They splash around for a bit, neither of them admitting that there might have been a couple of attempts to drown the other. Then, Phainon gets pinched by a small crab and Mydei chokes on a bunch of sea water when Phainon grabs him by the shoulders as he yowls in pain thinking it had been a shark.

“There are no sharks here, dumbass!” Mydei admonishes, eyes stinging and red. He can still taste the salt on his tongue as his throat and nostrils burn. 

“I’m bleeding.” Phainon pulls his foot up from the surface of the water to show Mydei his ankle from where the crab had allegedly pinched him. 

Mydei squints. He can barely see. “There’s nothing.”

“Look closer.”

Mydei knows Phainon enough that he’s not falling for any single one of his cheap tricks. He’s going to get splashed if he so much as leaned in a little to inspect the seemingly non-existent pinch mark with eyes wide open.

“I wonder who’s going to put up with you once I’m gone,” Mydei scoffs as he wades further away until the waters just barely brushed against his chin and he had to tiptoe a little bit to stay upright. 

Phainon pouts a little as he lowers his foot. “Whatever will I do once you leave?” he says, more of a tease than a question. He doesn’t meet Mydei’s gaze this time. 

“Cry yourself to sleep, maybe. Or find a new unwitting victim to be your friend.”

Phainon laughs. It’s a strained sound, one that makes Mydei think that he might’ve said the wrong thing. He’s never been one for jokes after all, and their usual back-and-forth mainly consists of Phainon riling Mydei up and Mydei responding in kind. 

There’s an apology at the tip of his tongue as he wades back into the shallows closer to where Phainon stood. But as always, he never says the first thing that comes to mind and opts with something more ‘in character.’

“I’m sure you’ll find someone to pass the time with. Someone who’ll tolerate all your shit.”

Phainon snorts, a rueful smile on his lips as he finally looks up. “You’re saying it like it’s a bad thing.”

It’s enough to have Mydei’s heart twisting. “It’s not. You’re—” You’re fun to be around. I like spending time with you. “—okay. I guess.”

“Fourteen years of knowing me and that’s all you have to say? Words really aren’t your strong suit.”

“Between the two of us, I think talking is more of your specialty considering how you never seem to be able to shut up most of the time.”

Phainon laughs, a bit lighter this time. “You like hearing me talk.”

Yes, I do. “I prefer the sound of silence, actually.”

“Do you now?”

No, Mydei wanted to say. He preferred the sound of Phainon’s voice rather than to listen to the one in his head telling him all sorts of things. Phainon keeps that voice at bay. It’s ironic, really, because whatever will he do once he leaves? When Phainon is no longer at arm’s length, or a telephone call away.

There were times when Audata would casually mention how Phainon needed Mydei more than Mydei needed Phainon. But Mydei would argue that it’s actually the other way around on his end. He’d be alone if it weren’t for Phainon. And though he doesn’t really mind the concept of being by himself that much, he can’t help but think that it would’ve been incredibly lonely. 

“Maybe I’ll miss you,” Mydei admits, wrinkled fingers fiddling beneath the surface of the water. “Maybe I’ll miss you talking my ear out and dragging me out to do whatever something you’ve come up with on a whim.”

Phainon steps closer, the water rippling against Mydei. “Just maybe?”

“Yeah.” 

It’s less pressure on them both when things are uncertain. Certainty often brings about promises, and Mydei thinks neither he nor Phainon could afford to make any at the moment.

Phainon is quiet, the sun casting shadows on his face as he stares at Mydei. He has the same look as that night—when he asked Mydei to stay. And he wonders if Phainon’s about to ask him a second time and it’ll be just as hard to say that he can’t.

“Well,” Phainon began, looking away. “At least you’ll miss me.”

“What about you?” Mydei asks before he could even think about it, as if he was suddenly compelled to know if Phainon would miss him just as Mydei would. At least, he hopes Phainon would be the more honest one between the two of them.

Phainon shrugs. “Eh. Who knows?”

A piece of skin catches Mydei’s nail and it stings as the seawater permeates the cut. Mydei simply can’t stop fidgeting, willing his mind to focus on how his fingers tangle together beneath the surface and how there’s now a thin red ribbon trailing after the cut on his thumb. 

Phainon proposes they try again with the sand castle building. Mydei acquiesces, but it’s more muscle memory now to say yes for his mind isn’t fully present anymore. 

Who knows?

As Mydei tries to fall asleep later on, the pillow in between him and Phainon doubled, he finds bitter comfort in the fact that he wouldn’t have to worry so much about Phainon missing him. 

The next morning, Demetrios informs both him and Phainon of the dock located behind their neighbor’s house that can be used freely if they wanted to try their hand at fishing. They then spent more than half a day figuring out the mechanics of the rod and how to throw a line, escalating (unsurprisingly) into a fishing competition once they’ve both figured it out (kind of).

The foul mood that had stormed over Mydei’s head the previous night immediately dissipates upon the sight of Phainon seemingly having the best time of his life sitting upon the rickety old dock and waiting for a fish to bite.

He sings, recites poetry, and tells stories in the hopes that the fish would be entranced by his voice. The only living being that was entranced was Mydei, and neither of them caught anything by the end of the day.

Phainon blames it all on Mydei’s serious face, saying it scared the fish away. Mydei’s hand subsequently slips and Phainon ends up falling into the lake out of sheer misfortune alone. They both trudged back home with an empty pail and drenched in lakewater, moss and dried leaves clinging to their skin. 

(Mydei had fallen in after Phainon when he tried to help Phainon up the dock.)

Safe to say, fishing becomes a part of their daily routine alongside heading down to the beach and helping out in the fields. Before Mydei could even realize it, a week has already gone by.

“Mydei, Phainon, can you go to the nearby town real quick and buy some detergent?” came Euphemia’s voice from inside the house a little after lunch while Phainon and Mydei were sweeping up the fallen leaves to use as kindling for later. 

The town was some kilometers away from Aedes Elysiae. Near enough that it’s still considered accessible, but too far for a walk. It’ll be the first instance that Mydei drives his car since he arrived at Aedes Elysiae—now gathering dust from where it’s parked by the barn. He checks the battery and tires before deeming that it’s fine to drive as is. 

Phainon arrives moments after Mydei has wiped away the dust, carrying two water bottles and a portable fan. There’s something in the way Phainon was smiling that tells Mydei he was planning something. And he’s right, because of course he is. Phainon is easy to read when he wants to be.

“Can I drive?”

Mydei answers with a swift, “No.”

Five minutes later, Phainon has both of his hands on the wheel while Mydei proceeds to have an internal meltdown at the passenger’s seat when he realizes that Phainon didn’t have the slightest idea on how to start a car. Or activate the safety blinkers for that matter.

“So. Clutch,” Phainon mutters to himself. “And then put this to one—”

The car lurches forward as Phainon lifts the clutch too fast, before going into a full stop and dying on them entirely. Mydei is going to scream.

“Uh.” Phainon turns to Mydei with a sheepish smile. “Show me how to do it again?” He adds a little soft ‘please’ at the end too as if to sweeten the request. 

Mydei sighs and demonstrates the process ten more times until Phainon gets it. And it takes another half an hour for Phainon to finally get them on the road. He’d been so preoccupied to make sure that Phainon didn’t run over any unsuspecting cattle that he didn’t notice Phainon wasn’t even wearing his seatbelt.

If this were a driving exam, Phainon would’ve failed before he could start the car.

“Hey, stop for a moment,” Mydei says, a dull ache throbbing at his forehead. Likely from the stress.

Phainon hits the brakes right in the middle of the road because why not. It’s rather fortunate that there’s no vehicles traveling as far as the eye can see. The perks of being in the middle of nowhere.

“What’s up?” Phainon asks.

The engine was still idling as Mydei lets out an exasperated sigh. “Honestly, Phainon,” he mutters before undoing his own seatbelt with a click. 

Before Phainon could say something—maybe argue that he’s been doing a good job at getting them somewhere without any accidents (yet)—Mydei was already moving, twisting in his seat to reach over the console and ignoring how the gearshift was digging at his side. 

It was growing more apparent by the minute that Mydei didn’t think this through thoroughly enough because a moment ago, he swears the inside of the car was not this small and the air conditioning was turned up high for him to even feel warm. And yet, there’s a sheen of sweat forming upon his nape as he leans in closer into Phainon’s space who still had both of his hands on the wheel. 

Mydei sets his jaw straight as he finally manages to get a grip of the seatbelt, blatantly ignoring how the tip of Phainon’s nose had just barely brushed against the side of his face. Only when he drags the belt across Phainon’s torso does he notice the absence of the steady rise and fall of Phainon’s chest. He frowns and looks up worriedly.

Phainon was staring at him intently, lips slightly parted. A bit chapped and pale yet soft-looking all the same. He’s looking at Mydei like he’s searching for something, almost unnerving in the way that has Mydei equally halting his own breaths. As if they’re in this fragile bubble and one wrong exhale could shatter this moment Mydei is not sure he even wants to stay in. But he does want to stay, he’s simply not sure how to be in it.

The seatbelt remained in his grip, the end just a hairbreadth away from the buckle. His hold falters when he sees Phainon’s gaze shift lower, Mydei doing the same without much thought. At this moment, it would be so easy to simply lean in and find out if the taste of the sweet figs Phainon was snacking on earlier still lingered on his lips.

But just before Mydei could give in to the urge, the sound of a car horn coming from behind startles them both. Mydei immediately latches Phainon’s seatbelt in place before pulling away. The car behind them pulls up at their side, rolls down the window, and gives both him and Phainon an aggravated double middle finger before driving off.

“What an asshole,” Phainon mutters beside him.

Mydei eases out a breath. He blames the shock from the car horn for how fast his heart was beating as he settled back in his seat, fastening his seatbelt as well just in case Phainon decided it was a good time to try his hand at racing a random stranger who they may have pissed off. 

“Let’s just go,” Mydei says finally.

Phainon nods. The car lurches forward once again before the engine dies on them. It’s safe to assume that this happens several more times. Thankfully, there were no more cars on the road that they could aggravate this time and they were able to reach the town in one piece.

The place was a far cry from downtown Okhema. The lack of buildings taller than three storeys were to be expected and there were but a small crowd of civilians wandering in and out of quaint-looking shops. 

Phainon drags him into one that sells strange, little trinkets and it ends up with them having visited every single establishment in the vicinity. By the time they managed to buy the detergent that Euphemia asked them to get, it was already well into the evening.

Mydei drives on the way back home, not trusting Phainon enough to navigate the roads in the dark regardless of the headlights illuminating the way. Phainon then proceeds to pout at the passenger seat, whining about his woes because that’s something he’s good at. Mydei is exhausted (and thoroughly endeared), rolling his eyes whenever Phainon’s heavy sighs sounded a little bit louder than the previous one and makes a tally in his head of the amount of times Phainon calls him heartless for being so harsh on a beginner driver.

“I’ll teach you again tomorrow,” Mydei eventually says. “Can you shut up now?”

“You will?” Phainon asks, visibly perking up from what Mydei could see at his periphery.

It’s in these moments that Mydei relishes in the fact that Phainon is easy, because Mydei surely is as well. Something about the saying that it takes one to know one. He wonders if Phainon even notices, if he knew that he could get Mydei to bend using fewer than five syllables.

Though it’s rather pitiful, Mydei has long since made peace with it. Friends compromise all the time. 

(But do friends have thoughts of kissing each other? Perhaps. It happened to Mydei some couple of hours ago. But that’s not the first instance of it. No elaboration needed.) 

“Yeah, whatever.”

They end up buying the wrong type of detergent, but Euphemia was nice enough to make do with their mistake. Phainon blames Mydei for choosing a detergent he preferred personally rather than the one Euphemia specifically asked for. Mydei blames Phainon for being stupid enough to forget what exactly the type of detergent it was that Euphemia asked for.

Demetrios then sends them to the well to fetch some water after dinner just to get them out of the house and settle their differences where the only ones that could hear them were the chickens just trying to sleep.

“You forgot too!” Phainon retorts, lowering the pail for another fill. “We both forgot!”

“I got distracted!” Mydei argues, short-sighted and dumb because now that poses the question of what he had gotten distracted by.

As expected, Phainon furrows his eyebrows. “Distracted by what?”

The fact that we almost kissed in the car. Mydei is obviously not saying that, so he goes with a half-truth and something he did actually think about: “You used up too much gas while you drove. The nearest gas station is further from the town and now I’m worried if we even have enough to get there.”

Phainon’s frown smoothens as his features grow more serious. Despite the lack of an ample light source outside Demetrios and Euphemia’s house, it was evident with the way Phainon’s shoulder outlines drooped just a little bit showing that he felt bad about it. Mydei immediately regrets everything.

“I’m sorry,” Phainon says, voice sounding small amidst the buzz of the many insects out for the night. “I’ll pay for the gas I used up.”

Mydei sighs. “You can compensate me by trying not to wear out my poor car with your atrocious clutching.”

Phainon then proceeds to deliberately spill some water onto Mydei from the pail. “Oops. You were saying?”

Before Mydei could shove Phainon into the well and leave him for dead, Euphemia comes out of the house wondering what was taking them so long, only to find two teenage boys drenched from head to toe, each with a hand on the now empty pail.

“Phainon started it… ma’am,” Mydei manages, feeling his face heat up out of sheer embarrassment. 

Phainon does not even bother to deny it and remains silent. Euphemia merely sighs and beckons them in the house, telling them to dry themselves up immediately before they could catch a cold.

Once dried and changed into their pajamas, they re-established the pillow boundary with twice as many pillows this time. Mydei wonders if it would be enough, ignoring that intrusive voice in his head shameless enough to hope that it wouldn’t be.

Phainon turns off the lights just as Mydei buries himself beneath the covers. The mattress shifts as it accommodates Phainon’s weight with Mydei making sure he gets enough of the blanket despite their distance. 

Just as he turns his head slightly to check whether or not Phainon was covered enough, he finds that Phainon was already staring at him, blue eyes glinting regardless of the dimness of the room. The strangeness of it startles Mydei for Phainon has always slept with his back on him. 

“What?” Mydei asks defensively. “The guilt of dumping water on me keeping you awake?”

Phainon surprisingly doesn’t react from the taunt, remaining still and unblinking as if nothing Mydei could say at the moment could faze him. 

In lieu of a response, Phainon’s hand reaches across the bed. It makes Mydei flinch when the hand gets too close, thinking Phainon was trying for a surprise attack deeming their earlier squabble still unfinished. 

But Phainon’s hand does none of that—the tips of his fingers gently touching the side of Mydei’s face before his palm slowly settles to cup his cheek. Mydei’s breath hitches when a thumb ghosts over his lips, shaky and seemingly hesitant. 

“I was distracted too,” Phainon finally says softly amidst the silence, like he’s worried of uttering the words too loud. 

The hand withdraws, taking the warmth along with it and leaving Mydei’s skin tingling in its wake. By the time Mydei’s wits had caught up, Phainon's back was already turned to him, breathing deeply as if he’d already fallen asleep.

The next morning, he finds that Phainon was already out of the house.

“Help was needed at the mill,” Euphemia explains when she notices Mydei’s troubled look upon realizing that Phainon was nowhere to be seen. “Phainon left as soon as he heard, didn’t even wait for breakfast.”

Mydei releases his frustrations at the dough he’s kneading, earning compliments from Euphemia in the process. Since she taught Mydei how to bake a few days ago, Mydei has made it a point to bake bread for the household in the mornings. There’s something therapeutic to the process with the way his mind seems to go blank.

Today, however, he realizes that even a bad mood could help with baking. 

“You have a talent for this,” Euphemia tells him, definitely unaware of the gloom that has settled upon Mydei like a coat. 

Mydei gives her a stiff smile, annoyed at himself for still thinking about Phainon despite everything—how Phainon might appreciate a fresh loaf while working at the mill. Perhaps Mydei should churn some butter and pick some berries while the bread bakes in the oven. 

He’s utterly hopeless. 

“I ought to thank you, ma’am,” he says to Euphemia. “I never thought I’d enjoy baking this much.” Punching dough saves him the effort of having to find Phainon.

Euphemia’s face brightens. “You should keep at it, even when you’re already at Kremnos. I’ll write up some recipes for you to try.”

“Thank you,” Mydei says again. “Really. You’ve been so kind to me. You and Sir Demetrios both.”

“It’s us who should thank you, Mydei,” Euphemia insists, drawing closer and taking both of Mydei’s flour-coated hands into hers. “At first, we were under the impression that Phainon never wanted to come here because of what had happened to his father. Audata herself refuses to. She loved my son so much that returning home would only remind her of his death. 

“I don’t blame her for it, of course. And seeing my grandchild has made some old aches return with how much he reminds me of my son.” Euphemia sighs. “If Hieronymous could see him now, he would be very proud.”

Mydei’s chest tightens, the rawness of the moment rendering him clueless of what to say. 

Euphemia doesn’t seem to mind as she continues on with her rambling, fondness laced in her tone as she speaks. Her blue eyes seemed glassy as it reflected the morning light coming from the kitchen windows, the corners of it reddening as she squeezed Mydei’s hands slightly.

“Audata has mentioned in her letters that you were the reason that Phainon wanted to come here,” she says, voice quivering. “I truly owe you my thanks, Mydei. While I do regret the fact that you and Phainon are due to part soon, I can see how happy he is with you.

“Reminds me of the time when Hieronymous and Audata were at your age. Young love sure is nice, isn’t it.” She’s no longer looking at Mydei when she says it, staring distantly at nowhere in particular instead. The smile on her lips seemed sad. “Demetrios and I were perhaps that way, too. But, ah, my memory is not so good these days that I barely remember anything specific. Don’t tell my husband that, though. He’ll sulk for days…”

Mydei has long since spaced out somewhere in between Euphemia’s words. There’s a roaring in his ear as the pumps of his heart grow borderline erratic at the casual mention of—

Love? 

Was that the word he’s been looking for all along? The idea of love has always been too cheesy, something that’s overdrawn in cliché, romance movies that barely has any substance aside from character A and character B just really, really liking each other.

It would be a disservice to his and Phainon’s relationship if Mydei simplifies everything he feels for Phainon to be something so… plain. 

And yet, now that the word has begun to seemingly embed itself into his brain matter with how it’s all he could think about, the idea of every possible romantic scenario Mydei could imagine perfectly fits Phainon in it. The worst part is realizing that they could be those same characters from those movies, and Mydei wouldn’t have minded. 

In fact, it made his heart race all the more to the point that it worries him.

“Mydei, dear?” Euphemia calls, pulling Mydei out of his reverie. “Are you alright? You look quite pale.”

Mydei nods quickly, hoping the movement would rattle his head and he could be sane again. “Yes. Sorry, I was just— Phainon forgot his sunscreen. I’ll give it to him right now.”

Before Euphemia could slip in a reply, Mydei was already hurrying to leave the house without so much as grabbing said sunscreen. He rushes to the mill with his heart on his throat only to find that Phainon was not there.

“Oh, Phainon?” one of the villagers said when Mydei asked where he went. “He went to the town with the others to sell the first batch of milled grain.”

Mydei’s shoulders slump upon hearing the information. “When will they be back?”

“Afternoon, maybe. Depends how fast the stock would sell out.”

Phainon comes home late in the evening with the dinner waiting for him already gone cold. 

Mydei was awake when he heard the door to their bedroom open. The lights were already turned off and he pretends to be asleep whilst trying not to think too much of the rustling sound as Phainon sheds his clothes to change into something more comfortable for sleep. 

Phainon then leaves the bedroom and returns some time later—most likely he’d gone to the bathroom to freshen up. Mydei feels the mattress dip from Phainon’s weight when he sits at the other side of the bed before ultimately settling beneath the covers. 

He wonders if Phainon had noticed the lack of the pillow boundary in between them this time, and mauls over the fact that Phainon didn’t even reinforce it if he did notice. Sleep was fitful with Mydei dreaming of Phainon’s thumb pressing against his lips softly accompanied by the dreaded word of ‘love’ murmured against his ear.

The next morning is a mirror of the previous one. Without much chores to do, Mydei heads down to the beach in the hopes that Phainon would come looking for him once he’s done playing the role of a self-appointed fixer of Aedes Elysiae.

But afternoon comes and goes, and Phainon never comes. Mydei sat across Demetrios, glumly chewing his dinner, when Phainon eventually returned. He takes his seat beside Mydei and tell everyone his day without so much as a glance at Mydei’s direction—as if Mydei wasn’t even there.

Mydei is not used to not having Phainon’s attention directed at him when they’re together. To say that it was an unpleasant experience would be an understatement, and he barely says a word during the entirety of the dinner. On the bright side, no one seems to have noticed the souring of his mood. 

Phainon then proceeds to lock himself in the bathroom for half an hour until Mydei comes knocking at the door telling him to hurry the fuck up. And even that didn’t guarantee Mydei even the smallest of talks with Phainon simply muttering a sheepish apology before retiring to the bedroom. By the time Mydei heads to bed, Phainon was already asleep.

It gets to a point, and Mydei has never been one to have an infinite amount of patience. The first three days were fine. Mydei understands that Phainon might want to bond with the other people in his village on his own. But a whole week? 

Mydei is not that much of an idiot. It was becoming rather apparent that Phainon was avoiding him. Mydei decides that perhaps it would be better to take matters into his own hands.

And so, he corners Phainon one afternoon, dragging him by the wrist to a secluded spot at the edge of the wheat fields where golden stalks met the green shrubbery that led to a forest. 

Mydei rounds up on him, pinning him to a tree trunk, noting how Phainon’s eyes are wide with shock at the sudden proximity.

“What game are we playing, exactly?” Mydei asks lowly, eyebrows furrowed. “I leave in less than two weeks. If you want, I can just leave first thing tomorrow morning instead.”

Panic flashes across Phainon’s face at that. “No—!” he exclaims, before sharply turning his head away, bottom lip caught in between his teeth. “I mean— Don’t leave, Mydei.”

“The fact that you’re avoiding me doesn’t really give me much incentive to stay.”

Phainon scoffs. “I just needed time to think straight.”

“Well, let me know when you’re finished with that. I’ll make sure to wait for your letter when I’m already at Krem—”

Mydei was cut off when Phainon roughly tugs at the collar of his shirt, yanking him closer into Phainon’s face. Before he could even begin to process what was happening, Phainon had already leaned in to press his lips against Mydei’s—more of an awkward smush of their faces that made their noses bump awkwardly rather than an actual kiss.

The technicality of it doesn’t matter in the end. Mydei is about to spontaneously combust either way. And considering it’s their first time kissing (unless Phainon has had practice behind Mydei’s back—which makes Mydei frown in thought), it’s fine that it isn’t as how Mydei had imagined it to go. Not like he’s thought of kissing Phainon countless times. That’s absurd.

Phainon pulls away immediately, red dusting his cheeks and ears as he looks at anywhere but Mydei. “I’m sorry,” he says, utterly distraught as he drags a hand across his face. Even the tips of his fingers had turned red. “Shit. Mydei, I’m so sorry.”

Mydei stares as Phainon mutters apologies that are almost incoherent. 

“You must really hate me now,” Phainon continues, frantic, seemingly on the verge of crying. “Just— You can punch me. Whatever you want, I’ll—”

Mydei interrupts him by cupping his face in both of his hands and leaning for a proper kiss this time, tilting his head slightly so their noses aren’t uncomfortably pressing against each other. He hears Phainon’s breath hitch, body going tense for a split second, before his hands eventually find Mydei’s waist to pull him closer. 

Phainon holds him throughout the kiss that lacked even a semblance of rhythm. It consisted mainly of their teeth bumping against each other in a loud clack and at some point, Mydei accidentally bites too hard on Phainon’s lips to draw blood. 

The first taste of copper on his tongue had him pulling back in no time to anxiously inspect the injury, only to find Phainon smiling back at him despite the cut on his lip. 

“Does it hurt?” Mydei asks, able to hear the pounding of his heart with how loud it is. 

Phainon hums. Still smiling, he replies, “It hurts a lot.”

Mydei huffs and extricates himself away from Phainon, turning around to leave. “Deal with it yourself.”

Kissing has become a new norm between them. It’s something that they have yet to talk about, but Mydei thinks there’s hardly enough time for that. Besides, there’s a great number of things that’s left unspoken between them, and there’s really nothing much to say when Phainon would begin to stare at him intently during a particularly quiet moment and Mydei would find himself irrevocably drawn in immediately. Vice versa. 

They only do it when no one is looking—when Euphemia and Demetrios are out of the house, hidden behind wheat stalks, at the beach, upon waking up, and before going to sleep. At some point Mydei has lost track of when exactly, and whose hand specifically it was that had wandered first, tracing heated skin in paths that started as shy and tentative with fingers barely touching flesh, ultimately evolving into more desperate ones that have both of them coloring in the sheer mortification of what they had just done afterwards.

But they always eventually laugh it off. It’s easier to find the hilarity of the situation than dwell in the awkwardness. For the both of them, there’s nary a place for shame to grow with how closely entwined they are in every aspect. Phainon keeps him from falling apart from how overwhelming the newness of it all is. And in return, he keeps Phainon from fleeing when things get too much too fast.

Part of their routine is for Mydei to take Phainon out for some driving lessons, which always ends up with them in the backseat fooling around without having to worry about someone else catching them. Afterwards, they head down to the beach to rinse away the heat, talking about nothing in particular until the sun fully sets and they have to head back home for dinner.

“I wish it could be like this all the time,” Phainon tells him one night while they’re in bed, fiddling with Mydei’s hand before ultimately tangling their fingers together. 

Mydei snorted beside him, on the verge of falling asleep as he laid on his stomach, ignoring the dull ache that’s beginning to bloom upon his hips. The night air that blows through the open window is a cold gust against the thin sheen of sweat on Mydei’s back, balancing the heat just right and rendering him more drowsy.

“You want to just stay in bed? Lazy ass.”

“With you? It would be nice,” Phainon admits softly, achingly honest for once as he stares up at the ceiling, shifting his legs so the tangle of covers aren’t too wound up around their exhausted limbs. “I’d like to do every possible thing in the world with you.”

“Don’t we already do that?”

Phainon smiles, a somber curve of his lips. “Yeah. But I just can’t seem to shake this feeling that I took it all for granted. I just… thought we’d have more time.”

“You talk as if one of us is going to die,” Mydei points out. “I’ll promise to write often. And maybe visit from time to time.”

“I don’t know, Mydei. Not seeing you everyday feels like death to me.”

Mydei fights back a smile against the pillow, because as much as he chastises Phainon for his cheesy lines, deep down only Phainon could send his gut flipping in ways he himself couldn’t even understand. “Thanks for being honest. You can stop now.”

“I’m being serious, though,” Phainon says, turning to his side so he could face Mydei properly. “It’s not easy going from ‘all the time’ to ‘from time to time.’”

“What the hell are you even yapping about?”

Instead of a response, Phainon simply leans forward to plant a soft kiss against Mydei’s forehead, then to his eyelids, his cheeks, the tip of his nose, until it ends up with them kissing until their lips tingled from the aftermath.

That conversation alone leaves Mydei wondering, more often than not, of the what ifs: what if he and Phainon had simply done this from the start? Then perhaps they would’ve had more time, basking in each other’s company without having to worry about their inevitable separation. Though it leaves a hollow space for regrets, Mydei finds that he doesn’t mind too much in the grand scheme of things.

He’s happy with how the way things are and Phainon seems equally as happy too, which is solely what matters most to Mydei than anything else. Before he knew it, days had already gone by. The bittersweet realization hits Mydei like rain that takes its time to fall. 

“Everyone’s so excited for the bonfire tomorrow,” Phainon says while they were collecting eggs from the coop. “I heard Grandma Leda is preparing a ‘figs ten ways’ feast for your birthday. Even grandpa Andreas purchased a sack of pomegranates out of season to make your favorite pomegranate juice.”

Mydei snorts. “Aren’t you ruining the surprise.”

“Hardly. I’m the one keeping you under house arrest today, aren’t I?”

“You’re not doing a very good job considering I’m already out of the house,” Mydei retorts.  

Phainon rolls his eyes. “It doesn’t count when you’re still technically within the fence of Grandpa Demetrios and Grandma Euphemia’s lot.”

Mydei doesn’t try to argue anymore, choosing his battles. He’ll get Phainon somehow some way in the near future. Preferably before he leaves for Kremnos, which is only two days from now. He tries not to think too much about it. He’s yet to start packing his stuff and a part of him isn’t ready to leave Aedes Elysiae—Phainon—just yet. 

When his birthday comes, Mydei is a mixed bag of emotions. The village square was decorated with a huge bonfire right in the middle. There’s music playing and people dancing. Phainon’s grandparents beckon him to try out the food everyone has prepared and Mydei comes to realize that Phainon wasn’t exaggerating when he said that Leda was doing a ‘figs ten ways’ for him.

Everyone greets him a happy birthday followed by a gift—a handmade card, wheat and flower bouquets, farm produce, even trinkets bought from the nearby town. 

Mydei thinks that this has to be his best birthday yet. Usually it would just be his mother, Audata, and Phainon. Now there’s way more people and it’s not exactly a lie to deem himself unsure on how to handle being the center of attention.

“Wanna take a breather for a bit?”

Mydei turns around and sees Phainon behind him. “Where have you been?”

“Getting your gift from the house,” Phainon replies with a smile. “C’mon. I’ll show you if you come with me.”

Mydei lets himself be dragged away from the bustle, Phainon leading him towards the fields. Out here, the music could barely be heard, muffled by the rustle of wheat and the soft howl of wind, colder now with summer coming to a close.

“What did you get me?” Mydei asks. 

Phainon giggles to himself before presenting Mydei a small box. Mydei opens it, not knowing what to expect. He inhales sharply the moment that he sees what’s within it. Inside was a ring. It wasn’t made out of silver and gold but of carved wood. 

“It’s a promise ring,” Phainon tells him. “I got some help to carve both of our initials in it. It’s quite small and— Well, it’s pretty dark around here so you probably won’t see it now.”

Mydei huffs out in disbelief as he puts it on, suspiciously a perfect fit only for his ring finger. He raises an eyebrow. “And what exactly are you promising me?”

“I promise to never annoy you for the rest of your days here in Aedes Elysiae.”

“I leave tomorrow so that feels like I’m getting scammed,” Mydei replies, teasing. “How about you promise not to annoy me for life?”

Phainon laughs. It’s unlike the ones Mydei would hear from him whenever he tries his hand at coming up with a joke. This time, however, Phainon’s laugh is strained, almost sad. 

“This ring seems a bit too cheap for that, don’t you think?” he says softly, gaze lowering to the ground like he’s embarrassed about something.

Mydei raises his chin up so they could see eye to eye. “It doesn’t matter to me.”

Before Phainon could respond, someone called their names from afar. One of the village kids, Mydei deduces as the silhouette draws near.

“Letter for you, Mydei!” the kid says—Isaac as Mydei recalls. “From Kremnos!”

Mydei could sense Phainon immediately tense beside him, the corners of his lips twitching downward. His dismay was only brief, replaced with a smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes as he turns to Mydei.

“I’ll… give you some privacy,” he says before heading back to the bonfire with Isaac. 

Mydei wouldn’t have minded if Phainon stayed to read the letter with him. But then he thinks that perhaps it was not for him that Phainon decided to leave. They both knew neither of them are really ready to be apart for an indefinite period of time. 

With a shaky sigh, Mydei opens the envelope, taking out and reading the letter within with bated breath.

—

Happy birthday, Mydeimos!

I must admit, I am quite sad that I won’t be present on the day that my only son is coming of age. But I hope you’re having a fun time there at Aedes Elysiae! 

Though I do have a birthday gift for you when you eventually come here, I doubt it would even compare to the news I have to share.

I am free of him, Mydeimos. I should’ve listened to you sooner. 

The divorce proceedings are already underway; Eurypon didn’t even try to convince me to not go through with it. Perhaps the love between us—or what has remained of it—has proven no longer enough to sustain our marriage. 

I’m planning to travel for a while once the divorce is finalized. Just to get away from your father, first and foremost. And from Kremnos, temporarily. 

Though I’m tempted to ask you to come with me, I know where your heart lies, my son. I wouldn’t dare ask for something so selfish. I’ll be fine on my own if you’re worried. Knowing you, of course you are. I’m so lucky to have such a loving son that dotes on his mother. 

Anyway, I wanted to tell you that you can stay in Okhema for as long as you like. The house hasn’t been sold yet, and you have every right to it. Eurypon may not be a perfect father, but he’s not heartless. I’m willing to bet he’ll transfer the property to your name anytime soon once he hears that you’ll be staying. 

I suppose I’ll be expecting a reply from you. Let me know what Phainon has to say. He was so crushed at the thought of you leaving. I’m sure this news would make him so happy. 

I love you, my son. Turns out I’ll have to send you my birthday gift after all. It’ll arrive perhaps a week after this letter. Oh and, maybe your father would send something too so keep an eye out. 

Love, 

Your Mother

—

Mydei’s hands were shaking the moment he finished reading the letter. He can stay with Phainon. 

He wonders how he’d break the news, how Phainon would react. The thought of Phainon bursting into tears whenever his emotions overwhelm him is enough to tug at his heartstrings as fondness courses through him. He’ll kiss Phainon’s tears away as he reassures him that he’s no longer leaving.

Mydei decides that he’ll tell Phainon right before he leaves for Kremnos. It’ll be a nice surprise. He’s already itching to write to his mother in detail every single expression that crosses Phainon’s face when he hears of the news.

“Was it Aunt Gorgo?” Phainon asks, approaching Mydei right away when the latter returns to the bonfire.

Mydei nods, unable to help the smile on his face. “Yeah. She’s finally divorced my father.”

Phainon’s mouth gapes in shock. “What?!”

“It’s great,” Mydei nods again, happy for his mother’s newfound freedom. “This is great.”

Phainon shakes his head, exasperated. “At least pretend that you’re sad.”

“I’m not.” 

On the eve of their departure, Mydei was busy packing up his stuff in his luggage when he heard a commotion coming from outside of the bedroom. Curious, Mydei tries to see what the commotion was all about, only to find at least a dozen people in the house all huddled around Phainon who was holding a mail in his hand.

Euphemia spots him. “Mydei! Come quick! Phainon has gotten a letter from the Grove!”

“The Grove?” Mydei repeats, eyebrows furrowing. He turns to Phainon questioningly, but the latter adamantly avoids his gaze. 

Not once has Phainon ever mentioned applying for the Grove—considered as the most revered learning institution in Amphoreus. Not to mention, it’s located on the other side of the world, far from Okhema and even further away from Kremnos.

They had talks of university many times before, both ultimately deciding to study at Goldweaver’s since it’s nearer.  But with Mydei’s sudden plans of moving away—

“Open it, Phainon!” Leda exclaims, her hands clenched closed to her chest as Andreas holds her close. 

Everyone craned their necks to peep at the contents of the letter. Mydei could barely hear anything aside from the several thoughts booming in his head all yelling the same thing over and over and over again:

Phainon is leaving.

“—to inform you that you have been accepted,” Phainon reads at last. 

The room erupts into loud cheers and applause, congratulating Phainon for being the first one in Aedes Elysiae to ever get accepted at the Grove. Phainon thanked everyone faintly, too composed despite such an achievement. By the time he turns to where Mydei had been standing, Mydei was already gone.

The night air was cool as Mydei marches to his car, jaw clenched and eyes stinging. Behind him, he can hear frantic footsteps against the dirt chasing after him.

“Mydei!”

Mydei ignores the call. Just as he jabs the key into his car to unlock the door, a wrist stops him.

“Mydei. Mydei, talk to me.”

It’s ironic, really, that Phainon asks that of him. He turns around, shoving Phainon’s hand away as bitterness coats his tongue. “You’re leaving.”

Phainon nods slowly. “Yeah.”

Mydei’s heart sinks to his gut. “Since when have you decided this?”

“Right after you told me you’re leaving for Kremnos,” Phainon explains, voice cracking as he runs a hand through his hair making him look more frazzled. “I— I can’t go back without you, Mydei. I just can’t. I’d lose my mind. It won’t be the same without you.”

“Does your mother know?”

Phainon shakes his head. “I didn’t want to tell her. Not until I got my acceptance letter.”

“And when were you going to tell me? When you’re already on the goddamn plane?”

“I didn’t think it mattered because—” Phainon huffs. “Because you’re leaving, too! You’re going to have a new life at Kremnos. New friends, new people, and you’re going to forget about me—”

Mydei’s vision blurs as his throat tightens up. “Why would I forget about you?”

“I don’t know!” Phainon shoots back. “Why are you upset? I thought… I thought you’d be happy for me.”

“You’re really asking me that? I am happy for you but gods, Phainon. We’ve been together our whole lives and you think I’d forget about you?”

Phainon’s mouth gapes but no words come out.

Mydei presses on. “And what about all we’ve done this summer? All we’ve said? Your stupid fucking promises! What, was I simply supposed to commit memory loss the moment that I let you out of my sight?”

“And was I supposed to think that this would last knowing you’re going so far away?”

“Yes!” Mydei exclaims, frustration rendering his voice rough around the edges. “Yes, but—”

The words get stuck on his throat because what should he even say at this point? Knowing there’s a chance that it would hinder Phainon’s opportunity, would it even matter? Would Phainon actually stay if Mydei were to say, I’m not going anymore. I’m staying. I would be staying if only you—

“But you can’t promise it.”

Phainon says the words like he’s figured it all out. Figured Mydei out despite knowing absolutely nothing.

Mydei’s thoughts go quiet for a brief moment, utterly taken aback because that was not even close to what he wanted to say at all. And the words sting so much that it feels as if it’s turned itself into a thousand tiny needles that sought to stab straight into Mydei's heart until the pain gets unbearable enough that it just stops beating altogether.

To the point that Mydei simply just doesn’t care anymore, swallowing the words back up because staying is no longer an option for him.

“You trust me that little?” he asks, the blood in his veins running cold. The voice that echoes in the narrow space between them feels far too distant. Mydei’s mind has never been clearer.

Phainon looked conflicted. “I just thought it would be selfish of me to keep you for myself when I can’t even be by your side.”

Mydei nods, resolute. He’s not even sure if he agrees with what Phainon had said. Everything feels so futile and hollow. “And you decide all of this, all on your own.”

“Mydei— Mydei, please—”

Something hot and wet streaks down Mydei’s cheek as he shoves Phainon away before entering his car. He ignores the banging on the window, Phainon’s pleas nothing but a muffled, incoherent mess in his ears that refused to listen. 

•

Mydei admits that it was naive of him to think that Phainon would always stay right where he wanted him to. He never did realize soon enough that the notion of him leaving would cause Phainon to want to leave too. But perhaps that is the folly of youth: sometimes things are simply too unbearable to face and retreat becomes the only plausible option.

Even now, as the sun begins to set, Mydei is once again reminded of the many sunsets he’d spent with Phainon back in Aedes Elysiae. He mourns the memory of it.

“I’m… sorry again,” Phainon says. “For not telling you.”

Mydei lets out a breath. “It’s all in the past now,” he replies. “If anything, I should be the one to apologize. If I didn’t lash out the way I did, perhaps we would’ve parted on much better terms.”

“You had a valid reason to react that way. I was being impulsive.”

“Like I said, it’s all in the past now,” Mydei repeats. It’s an echo of what he used to tell himself to feel better about everything. And now, he feels guilty for uttering nothing more than empty words; it doesn’t work on him anymore, but he hopes it would on Phainon. “No need to beat yourself up over it.”

Phainon is quiet then. His cigarette had long since burned out, crushed beneath the sole of his shoe. Mydei tries not to stare too much at the way the comb on Phainon’s hair was being slowly undone by the wind coming from the sea. The look reminds him too much of the boy he’d left behind, and it tugs at Mydei’s heart a bit—the hope that maybe there’s still something of that Phainon left behind for him to see. 

“I’ve been meaning to ask this,” Phainon began when he caught Mydei’s gaze. “But, uh, are you seeing anyone these days?”

“I’m married,” Mydei answers flatly. 

He watches as a myriad of emotions pass through Phainon’s face, before it crumples into something that’s akin to an indescribable anguish so obvious that Mydei has to hold back a laugh.

“I’m kidding.”

Phainon’s tense shoulders relax in record time. “You were never good at doing that.”

Mydei rolls his eyes. He sees a particular seagull who gets too close to the water, a shallow wave drenching its feathers. “I’ve dated. Here and there,” Mydei says. “But I’m not seeing anyone since moving back to Okhema.”

“I thought you’d have already settled down with someone by now,” Phainon says, scratching his nape sheepishly as he lets out a laugh that sounded rather forced. “You know. Have a family of your own.”

Mydei would rather die than admit that he thought the same for Phainon. It would imply that he’s been thinking of Phainon too often for his liking despite everything that has happened being more than a decade ago. 

“I apprenticed under an affluent baker in Kremnos after graduating so I didn’t think I have much time for something serious.” Or the capacity to commit to someone that isn’t Phainon for that matter. “And I’ve been busy with just establishing a bakery here, so.”

Phainon snorts. “Wow, you’re not getting any younger, you know?”

“You’re older than me by two whole months, give or take a few days,” Mydei retorts. “Unless you have a wife and kids waiting for you back at the birthday party, I’m going to start thinking that you’re just projecting your soon-to-be middle-aged blues on me.”

The thought of Phainon having a family on his own fills his gut with dread. If Phainon actually says yes to those words, Mydei doesn’t guarantee that he wouldn’t be sick and puke his guts out in the next five minutes.

“Thirty-three is far from being middle-aged,” Phainon says, a pout in his tone. “And, nope. No wife and kids. I don’t think I’m cut out for that yet.”

Yet. 

The word sears itself like a brand into Mydei’s brain. 

“Actually, I can’t even bring myself to date anybody,” Phainon continues, looking away.

Somehow, Mydei eases at that. A traitorous part of himself—more entitled and liberal in its assumptions—thinks that perhaps he’s the reason for that. As if Phainon’s choice still revolved around him no matter how long and how far apart they’ve been.

“Sounds like a ‘you’ problem.”

A sheepish smile makes its way to Phainon’s lips. “Ah. It probably is, isn’t it?”

Mydei nods. It brings a soft laugh out of Phainon, more genuine this time. Mydei longs to hear it again. 

“I also kept wondering on how you were doing all these years,” he admits. 

The look on Phainon’s face made him seem ten years younger. “...You did?”

Contradicting his resolve from earlier, Mydei thinks that perhaps if he allowed himself to be a bit more honest, he’d have the chance to see Phainon smile without an indistinct weight behind it. Even now, he’s always been horrible at denying Phainon anything.

“Yeah,” Mydei says. “‘Is that idiot still alive?’ Something like that.”

Phainon grins, a little more boyish and carefree. It’s something that goes well with the faint lines that crinkle at the corner of his eyes, and that glint in the blue of his irises that never fails to draw Mydei in. 

Perhaps it’s because Mydei has fallen in love with that face once that the air in his lungs somewhat began to feel inadequate. And the fact that Phainon has aged so sweetly is not doing Mydei any favors at all. 

“I also thought of you,” Phainon tells him, voice quiet enough that it would’ve been drowned out by the sound of the distant waves if Mydei had not been listening intently. “I thought of our summer a lot afterwards.”

Mydei allows a smile to play on his lips because, despite everything— “It was fun. Thank you, Phainon.” Thank you for letting me know what love was supposed to feel like. “And… I’m sorry, too, for leaving so suddenly. Back then.”

The image of Phainon’s hands pressed against the window of Mydei’s car returns at the forefront of his mind, just as it often does when he feels particularly pitiful. Phainon’s blurred, tear-streaked face and muffled voice begging Mydei not to leave had echoed in Mydei’s ears for the longest time, even following him to his dreams to haunt him.

“It’s fine,” Phainon reassures him, seemingly adamant to treat what had happened back then to be like a normal spat in between friends. 

Mydei’s not sure how he feels about that. He and Phainon had long since crossed the line to being something more than just friends who grew up together attached at the hip. But he finds that it’s simpler this way, not finding it within himself to argue the specifics when neither of them managed to put a name to the nature of their relationship.

His silence allows for Phainon to continue, blissfully unaware of Mydei’s turmoil. “I did wonder how I would’ve returned all of your stuff, though. I kept them with me, if you want them back.”

Mydei snorts, ignoring the implications that Phainon must’ve been hoping for them to see each other again in the future to do such a thing. “Don’t bother. Those clothes won’t fit me anymore. 

“Well.” Phainon then proceeds to deliberately look him up and down. It makes Mydei’s skin warm even when the horizon has long since muted the sun’s heat. “I wasn’t lying when I said you looked good.”

Mydei returns the favor, taking all of Phainon in this time without having to refrain himself from staring too much. “You’re not so bad yourself.”

They bicker for a little while, the awkward air that had lingered in between them prior now seemingly dissipated after they’ve exchanged apologies fifteen years overdue. And though Mydei is certain that there’s still a lot of unspoken things that ought to be addressed, he’d rather not overwhelm them both by opening another can full of worms. 

Like this, it’s enough for now. 

“How was the Grove, by the way?” Mydei asks. Though his chest still throbbed with a dull ache at the mention of it, he finds that it’s not as bad as before.

“It’s fine,” Phainon answers, strangely clipped and brief. Mydei fully expected him to go rambling about the time he’d spent studying there, the nerd he is. But instead, the next thing he gets is a stiff, “Should we head back?”

Mydei tries to read the expression on his face, and he sees nothing of the Phainon he knew and saw just moments before he brought up the Grove. Maybe he had a horrible experience? Mydei decides not to push it.

“Alright. Let’s go.”

Phainon opens the car door for him. “Our mothers must’ve been freaking out by now.”

Mydei mutters his thanks, waiting for Phainon to round to the other side of the car and enter before replying. In the meantime, his phone that he’d left at his seat the whole time showed more than twenty missed calls from Gorgo.

“Can’t say you’re wrong about that,” he tells Phainon, shooting a quick text to his mother that he’s fine. “By the way, did you really run out of paper towels, or were you just looking for an excuse to get me to leave with you?”

Phainon smiles and starts the car. He shrugs. “Eh. Who knows?”

The drive back to Audata’s house consisted of minimal conversation. Phainon never goes to buy paper towels after all. 

Most of the guests had already left with Audata and Gorgo bidding goodbye to the last family of three by the porch. Mydei catches hints of their conversation as he exits Phainon’s car—something about the family thanking Audata for having them and to come by at their house soon for some lunch that’s located a couple of streets over.

“Where have you two been?” Gorgo exclaims the moment that he sees Mydei and Phainon walk up the path that led to the front porch. “Mydeimos, it’s disrespectful to the celebrant if you leave right in the middle of the party!” 

And then she turns to Phainon, her disapproving frown replaced with a smile as she pulls him into a hug. The whiplash is insane. 

“Phainon, dear, how have you been? You’re so tall now, I have to be on my tiptoes to hug you properly!”

Mydei watches as Phainon flusters under Gorgo’s attention, until Audata joins and beckons them all back to the house. Mydei and Gorgo help out with cleaning up the party decorations and storing away all the food, talking about fond memories in the meantime of when they were still neighbors.

They whipped up a quick dinner from the leftovers, catching up some more. At one point, the women opted to open a bottle of wine. Phainon and Mydei exchange amused looks across the table when their mothers’ voices become a tad bit louder come the second pour. 

“And I told Mydei, why not just return to Okhema? That place is perfect for his business,” Gorgo recounts, face flushed, her grip on her utensils loose. “To think he almost decided to not push through with it. He’ll never be able to find that cheap of a rent in such an optimal location at Kremnos.”

“I heard it’s a hit!” Audata nods, also in an equally tipsy state as Gorgo. Neither of them have ever been considered as strong drinkers. “Our neighbors were surprised when I told them I know the owner.” She shoots a wink at Mydei. “I remember Phainon bringing home a box of pastries from your bakery once. Right, Phainon? They were delicious, by the way.”

“Thank you,” Mydei responds gratefully. He wonders if he should mention that it was Hieronymous’ parents that taught him how to bake. Maybe another time (setting himself up once again for another eventual meeting).

Gorgo dabs the corners of her lips with a napkin before speaking. “Phainon, you’ve been to Mydei’s bakery?”

“I haven’t,” Phainon admits, pink dusting his cheeks. “I’ve only been ordering online and I… usually leave work very late, so.”

He glances at Mydei’s direction apologetically. Not like Mydei would hold it against him given the history between them. But he does expect Phainon to drop by now that they’ve cleared the air somewhat. He hopes Phainon would.

“Phainon’s been working really hard,” Audata remarks, smiling proudly at her son. “But he’s stubborn when it comes to his own health. It’s fortunate that the company he works in treats him well.”

Gorgo hums approvingly at Phainon’s direction. “That’s great! Mydei mentioned that you studied at the Grove. Their recommendations must’ve been wonderful; it opens a lot of doors for opportunity.”

Mydei sees the exact moment that Phainon’s face goes pale. Audata stops eating, turning to Phainon with a furrow in between her brows.

“The Grove?” she asks, confused. “Phainon, you got accepted at the Grove?”

“I—”

Mydei catches Phainon’s panicked gaze and deems that something was not adding up here. Audata should have known. Phainon told Mydei that he would let Audata know of the news when he’s sure he got accepted. 

He’s replayed the night he left Aedes Elysiae to the point that their exchange has now been permanently ingrained in his brain. It’s like a record whose notes he has long since memorized. He couldn’t have been mistaken.

Phainon was staring at his plate. “I did, mom.”

“When?” There’s a certain sharpness in Audata’s tone, like that of a disappointed mother who realized she knew nothing about her son.

“The same summer Mydei left,” Phainon answers. 

“But didn’t you go to Kremnos after that?” Audata presses, still trying to grasp at the facts that Phainon had given her. “You said you missed Mydei so much that you had to go and stay there for two years.”

By this point, everyone had stopped eating. Mydei could feel his mother’s eyes on him, but his attention right now was solely focused on Phainon, trying to will him to meet his eyes and explain exactly what the fuck is going on.

“...You went to Kremnos?” Mydei manages, voice shaky with disbelief. 

Phainon does not deign him with an answer.

It all makes sense now. Phainon had deflected too quickly earlier when Mydei mentioned the Grove. After everything that had gone down with them, Mydei can’t help but think that it had been all for nothing. Phainon never went to the Grove in the end and squandered the opportunity—all for the expense of following Mydei to a different country.

The worst part is—

“But we were at Aidonia that time,” Gorgo adds delicately. The knowing expression on her face depicted that she’s realized what had truly gone down between her son and Phainon. “After my divorce with Eurypon, we traveled around Amphoreus and settled there until Mydei finished his university.”

Audata rounds up to her son. “Then what were you doing at Kremnos, Phainon?”

Mydei feels utterly sick to his stomach. Phainon, on the other hand, refuses to meet eyes with anybody around the table. 

“Mydei,” Gorgo’s voice floats over gently amidst the chaos pounding within Mydei’s mind. She looks at her son dead in the eye. “You never told Phainon that you could stay at Okhema.”

The words die down at the tip of Mydei’s tongue. Even if he could explain his side of things, what good would that do? It’s already fifteen years too late to try and have everything be exactly as they were before. 

As a tense silence befalls the dining area, it is Mydei’s turn this time to avoid Phainon’s piercing blue stare from across the table. What expression is plastered upon Phainon’s face right now, Mydei is too much of a coward to find out.

The clean-up after dinner turns out to be one of the worst moments of Mydei’s life. It was awkward to the point that he wondered how hard he should pray for the world to end in the next millisecond. 

Audata offers for Gorgo and Mydei to stay the night considering that they drank wine. Though Mydei is far from drunk and could still drive relatively fine after perhaps ten minutes out in the cold night air, Gorgo was already saying yes to the offer so Mydei is left with little to no choice in the end.

Which cuts to him having to once again share a bed with Phainon. 

“I’ll sleep on the couch,” Phainon offers, looking anywhere but at Mydei as he gathers a couple of pillows underneath his arm. 

Just before he could open the door to leave, Mydei blocks his way. “I’ll sleep on the couch,” Mydei insists. “This is your room and your bed. You stay here.”

“You’re a guest.”

“The couch is fine for me.”

Phainon refuses to back down. “The couch is fine for me, too.”

Mydei sighs, unable to see the end to this back-and-forth. “Fine. No one gets the couch. Let’s just both sleep here.”

They then stare at the bed—Phainon’s childhood bed from the looks of things. There’s a question here that’s begging to be asked: would they even fit on that?

Twenty minutes later, the light has been turned off and both Phainon and Mydei are squished together beneath the covers as they stare up at the ceiling, their feet dangling at the foot of the mattress. Neither of them seemingly had the plan to address the rather large elephant in the room. At least, Mydei doesn’t.

Until, Phainon breaks the silence. “Why didn’t you tell me you could’ve stayed?”

Mydei draws in a sharp breath. So they’re really doing this after all. “I was going to tell you. I wanted it to be a surprise back then.” He turns to his side and sees Phainon’s gaze already upon him. “Why didn’t you tell me about Kremnos? You had all the time to do so earlier at the rest stop.”

“I didn’t think it mattered.”

“It does.” 

“I would’ve stayed too if you told me that you’re staying,” Phainon argues, facing Mydei fully this time. “I don’t care about the Grove. I don’t care about any of it.”

Mydei scoffs, trying to refrain himself from brushing away the pale hair that nestled softly upon Phainon’s forehead. “All the more reason why I shouldn’t have told you,” he defends. “Not like it would’ve changed anything. You went and squandered the opportunity anyway.”

Phainon laughs weakly and Mydei could smell the fresh scent of the mint toothpaste he’d used with how close they are. 

“I was in love,” Phainon tells him, boring holes into Mydei’s face with how intent his stare is. 

It renders Mydei restless, his whole body itching to be closer and melt completely into Phainon’s space. He wants Phainon to hold him as he says it again because it does justify all the mistakes they’ve made, doesn’t it? They were in love.

“You were a fool.”

“Perhaps,” Phainon simpers with a smile. A warm hand reaches out and cups Mydei’s face in the darkness, drawing him nearer and Mydei couldn’t find it within himself to resist. “I don’t regret the Grove, or going to Kremnos. I just— I wished I told you about it sooner. I guess I was spiteful of the fact that you’re leaving me behind and it made me want to leave, too.”

Mydei looked into Phainon’s eyes until he could see a reflection of his silhouette glinting in the darkness. “That’s… kinda understandable.”

“Is it?”

“To put things into perspective, none of this would’ve happened if I just told you right away that I could stay in Okhema,” Mydei argues. “What was I thinking. I’m never one to do surprises.”

Phainon rests his forehead against Mydei, eyes closed and Mydei could almost count every strand of Phainon’s pale eyelashes fanning against his cheek. “You’re right. That’s my thing.”

“Indeed. I was very surprised when I found out an idiot like you managed to get accepted at a place created solely for intellectual people.”

“Hey!” 

Phainon opens his eyes to glare at Mydei, but the softness in them betrays his disgruntlement. Mydei is confident that Phainon can never be truly upset with him, it shows with how Phainon deftly brushes the pad of his thumb against Mydei’s bottom lip, a wordless question.

Mydei can’t be bothered to find out who it was among them that leaned in first, closing what little distance remained between them until their lips slot against each other in a kiss that felt like nothing from the one in his memories—dulled with time and tainted with so much ache. 

Phainon kisses him like he’s trying to breathe Mydei in, as if he’s also trying to restore a memory he’d tried desperately to forget but traitorously kept resurfacing at every possible moment. 

The thought brings Mydei a sense of comfort in a way. Because then, perhaps he was never alone in his longing to begin with.

•

The next morning, Phainon finds Mydei alone in the kitchen. Turns out, Audata and Gorgo had gone to an early morning shop at the farmer’s market so they’re left alone.

Mydei watches as Phainon helps himself to the newly-brewed coffee in the pot before leaning into the counter beside Mydei. A shy smile was playing on his lips as he nudged Mydei lightly.

“About… last night.”

Mydei keeps his arms wrapped around himself to afford him some semblance of structure even as his legs felt weak. He doesn’t face Phainon when he says, “I don’t think I can do this.”

Guilt had been the first thing that wormed its way into Mydei’s thoughts upon waking up, amplified further when he saw the sight of Phainon deep in sleep beside him—facing Mydei with his lips slightly parted. 

Mydei had traced Phainon’s features then with shaky fingers that barely touched skin, wondering if everything that had transpired the previous night was simply one amongst the countless many dreams he’s had of Phainon. 

He follows the curve of Phainon’s eyebrows, to the jut of his nose, the fan of his lashes, the seam of his lips, and down to his neck until it stops just upon the dip of his collarbones. 

To think that he’d learned to resent the very man before him for making it seem so easy to dismiss everything on a whim under the guise of Mydei forgetting him at his earliest convenience. But with time, perhaps the resentment had led Mydei to believe that it would’ve never really worked out between them.

If there’ll ever be a moment that they meet again, Mydei wonders if the separation that comes afterward would become easier to deal with, for it to hurt less the second time. Maybe even a third and a fourth. He wonders if it would chip away at him little by little, until all that he has left to offer Phainon are the broken fragments of himself. And he dreads it so much more now, nestled within the warmth of Phainon’s embrace after knowing the truth: that Phainon wasn’t so heartless as Mydei had deluded himself to believe.

He’s grown to associate happiness with fear after learning his lesson: he’d been so happy with Phainon before that not once did he ever imagine the possibility that they would part—and now it’s all he could think about. 

The belief that joy is a precursor to loss leads him to believe that perhaps it would be better if they weren’t together to begin with. A coward’s choice, and Mydei knows it more than anyone else. But there’s nothing left to be brave about when he’s already felt the pain of separation once, the wound itself barely scarring over in the past fifteen years with how much Mydei picks and prods at it at his own self-detriment. To make it bleed over and over again until the nerves get too damaged and it numbs him completely.

“I don’t think I can do this, Phainon.”

Phainon stares at him, lips quivering as his lips break into a nervous smile. “I thought we were fine.”

Mydei shakes his head, keeping his gaze lowered to the floor. “We’re not.” I’m not.

“This is still about the Grove, isn’t it,” Phainon presses, placing his mug on the counter. “Mydei, if you want me to apologize again, I will. I’m sorry—”

“You have nothing to apologize for,” Mydei cuts him off, pushing himself off the counter to stand in front of the Phainon, holding Phainon’s face in his hands. “I’m the one who’s sorry.”

Phainon shakes his head, enveloping Mydei’s wrists in his hold to keep Mydei in place. As if he too dreads the moment that Mydei would eventually pull away.

“It’s never been your fault,” Phainon tells him, eyes glassy. His skin is so pale that it’s easy for Mydei to observe how the corners of Phainon’s eyes and the tip of his nose gradually turn redder by the moment as he tries to fight back tears. “How could I blame you for anything?”

“I should’ve just been happy for you.”

“And I told you, it never mattered anyway. I came after you still, and I’d do it again. I don’t want us to part ways again without you knowing that I wished I had done things differently.” Phainon brings Mydei’s palm to his lips, pressing a reverent kiss that lingers too much. Mydei doubts if he’d be able to wash away the sensation. “When I found out you owned that bakery, you were so damn near to me, Mydei. I thought about driving by to see you even though I knew you’d probably want nothing to do with me.”

Mydei sighs. “Phainon—”

Tears fell in streaks down Phainon’s cheeks, Mydei’s hands just positioned in the right spot by Phainon’s jaw that he’s able to catch every drop. 

“It was my fault to think so little of what that summer meant to you,” Phainon reasons. “Because I, too, think of myself to be so little to be deserving of your love.”

Mydei’s throat closes up on itself. “You’re not,” he manages, looking straight into Phainon’s reddened eyes in the hopes that Phainon would see through him. “You were never.”

“I looked for you in Kremnos and I can’t even speak the language. I was hallucinating you in every stranger I came across,” Phainon presses on, laughing bitterly as he does so. Mydei shifts his hand higher just so he’s able to wipe away the new tears that threatened to fall. “If mom hadn’t gotten sick at that time, I don’t think I would’ve ever left that place. I would’ve waited for you, Mydei.”

“This isn’t good for you, Phainon. I’m no good for you.”

“You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

Mydei huffs, feeling his eyes begin to sting. “I’m not even the same person as I was fifteen years ago.”

“Neither am I,” Phainon replies like it’s the miraculous fix to everything. “We can get to know each other again.”

Perhaps the look on Mydei’s face was enough of an answer, for Phainon holds still for a moment. And all Mydei could do was watch as the lines on Phainon’s face gradually morph into an aching mixture of helplessness and realization.

We can’t. 

“We’re never going to go back, aren’t we.” The light in Phainon’s eyes dull as he spoke. He wasn’t even asking, uttering the sentence as if it’s final and there’s nothing he could do to change the fact.

Phainon breaks free from Mydei’s hold, pacing until there’s a relative distance between them. He groans as he ruffles his hair in frustration that’s more pulling than anything else, pale strands of hair caught in between whitened knuckles.

He turns to Mydei, every layer of composure nowhere to be seen and suddenly, Mydei is once again taken back to the memory of that night—of Phainon begging him to stay.

But Phainon doesn’t plead this time, a distinct emptiness in his voice when he says, “I’ve truly lost you.”

The words die on the tip of Mydei’s tongue, unsure as to what he should respond. If he should even say something in return wondering about the odds of him somehow making this worse than it needs to be.

His lack of denial was more than enough for Phainon. But just as Mydei thought Phainon had something more to say, they both hear Audata’s car pulling up at the driveway. Phainon leaves the kitchen in a blur, rushing upstairs as Mydei was left to stew in his absence. 

From outside, he hears fragments of his mother and Audata’s animated conversation. The moment they step inside, Mydei helps them with carrying the produce they’d bought.

“Phainon is still asleep?” Audata asks, looking around the house for any signs of her son.

The sound of Mydei’s voice comes out foreign as he tries to speak. “He’s—”

“I’m awake!” Phainon’s footsteps echo down the stairs. 

Mydei could tell that Phainon had washed his face and calmed himself down in that short amount of time. Though his eyes were still red-rimmed and swollen, it’s enough to be hidden under the guise that he’s simply just woken up.

Audata then proceeds to delegate tasks for the boys to help prepare the brunch. They eat at the patio where the breeze was nice and the summer weather was not too hot to render them sweating uncomfortably. 

Considering how their conversation had been cut preemptively the previous night, there was no shortage of things to talk about. That afternoon, Mydei allows himself some semblance of relaxation as they relive more fond memories from the past. 

Phainon allows himself to laugh as well. Something about the sight of it leaves Mydei feeling warm and light. Hope blooms within him at the thought that perhaps Phainon would be alright without him. 

When Phainon catches his gaze, he gives Mydei a smile. It’s genuine enough that it doesn’t leave Mydei feeling like the world’s biggest asshole. Even if it doesn’t happen right away, he prays that Phainon could learn to forgive him.

By the time they’re done with their seemingly endless conversation, it is already evening and both Mydei and Gorgo are now set to leave.

“Audata, we’ve overstayed our welcome, truly,” Gorgo says as she hugs Audata tightly. “Thank you for inviting us. Happy birthday again, my dear friend.”

“You’re always welcome here, Gorgo,” Audata replies as they pull away. “Come visit again soon, okay? Better yet, move back in the neighborhood! I know a nice house nearby that’s up for sale!”

Gorgo shares a look with Mydei. “We are indeed looking for better accommodations. I can’t just keep living in my unmarried son’s apartment, he’s never going to get a lover that way!”

“Mother!” Mydei hisses lowly.

Audata giggles, covering her mouth with her hand as she does so. “Phainon’s no better. I keep telling him to find someone and settle down already! Ah, stubborn fools.”

At this, Mydei dares a glance at Phainon’s direction only to see that Phainon was already staring at him. 

Teasingly, Mydei asks even though he already knows the answer: “You’ve been single this whole time?”

Phainon smiles enigmatically, like there’s an unspoken secret between them too intimate to blurt out in the presence of their mothers.

“Speak for yourself, Mydei.”

Mydei and Gorgo get into the car, the latter waving her goodbyes to Phainon and Audata as Mydei backs out of the driveway and onto the road. Nearing a stoplight, Mydei could afford to be distracted enough to notice that his mother was staring at him. He sighs exasperatedly. 

“Mother.”

Gorgo laughs. “What? Phainon’s grown up to be quite the lovely man, isn’t he? What do you think, Mydeimos?”

“Sure,” Mydei responds gruffly.

“Mydeimos, a man like that only comes once in a lifetime.”

“I wouldn’t count on your opinion about men, Mother.”

Gorgo lets out an offended scoff, but Mydei’s words are barely enough to discourage her from her teasing. “Well. I love you, Mydeimos. I know more than anyone when love is being given your way.”

Mydei no longer had the capacity to come up with a response to that and there’s no use debating with his mother at this time. 

Upon arriving at his apartment, Mydei immediately checks his phone. There’s a couple of messages from his team at the bakery, and a single missed call from an unknown number.

He calls back without much thought. It could be a client for all he knew. The number fortunately picks up in barely two rings. 

“Hey, this is Mydei from Furiae's Bakery. I’m sorry for missing your call.”

A beat of silence passed and Mydei had to check if the person he’d called had accidentally hung up on him only to find that the call was still ongoing. 

He tries again. “Hello?”

“Mydei! I… didn’t think you’d call back. Did you arrive safely at home?”

Mydei closes his eyes and counts to ten. He’d probably be able to recognize Phainon’s voice from mere sound waves alone. He quietly takes in a breath and lets it out slowly.

“Just now,” he answers. “Did my mom give you my number?”

“Yes. I think it was this afternoon when I went with her on the emergency run for cooking oil.” Phainon laughs for a bit and it’s enough to tug at Mydei’s heartstrings. “She wanted to ask if there was anything else that’s needed. Unfortunately, she forgot her phone so she had me call you instead.”

Somehow, Mydei is more inclined to believe that his mother had fabricated a situation where she had to give Phainon Mydei’s number without seeming suspicious. 

“I see. You’re not asleep yet?” he asks, shooting a quick glance at the clock that displayed 10 PM.

“No. I’m also driving back to the city,” Phainon says. “You didn’t think that I still lived with my mom, did you?”

Mydei smiles. “I did assume that.”

“So you assumed that my childhood bed that didn’t even support my entire legs was just a purposeful choice of resting?”

“I didn’t really think much of it at that time.”

“Right. We were pretty distracted, after all.”

Mydei feels his face heat up at the implication. He huffs, feigning offense as he shifts his thumb to the section on the screen that would allow him to end the call. “Take care, then. Drive safe.”

“Thanks. I will.”

He waits for Phainon to hang up the call. But a minute passes, and then two. For some reason, neither of them could bring themselves to end the call, so it’s just this less-than perfect silence between them with a mix of static and the sound of vehicles from Phainon’s end of the line that’s heard.

Mydei debates if he should just leave his phone as is upon his side table and head to bed. Perhaps Phainon would end the call himself when he gets home. Just as Mydei stands up, he hears Phainon’s voice emanate from the speaker.

“Mydei, I think you’re wrong,” he says. “I think we can work this out.”

“Phainon,” Mydei warns. 

They really shouldn’t be unearthing the matter once again. Not when it has yet to settle into something more unremarkable and it wouldn’t be so much of a worry for either of them to be affected by it. 

“I knew you for half of my life. I loved you before I even knew what love was,” Phainon insists, his voice imperceptibly soft from the other end of the line like he’s coaxing Mydei into giving in and it’s working. “Mydei, tell me why we can’t work this out.”

“It’s because I’m—” Mydei sighs. “I don’t think I can handle losing you once I have you again.”

“You won’t,” Phainon reassures. It tricks Mydei into thinking that it’s a promise and that he’ll eventually hold Phainon accountable for it soon. “I will never leave, Mydei. I’ll follow you everywhere until you’re sick of me and even then, perhaps all that’s left to do for me is to die.”

A humorless laugh slips past Mydei’s lips. “Do you really think that we can go back to the way things were? Not to mention, simply abandoning your life to be with me is unrealistic. I’m not even the same person as I was fifteen years ago.”

“Neither am I,” Phainon shoots back. “But I already told you, I’m willing to get to know you over and over. Falling in love with you made me so happy that I’d go through it all again.”

“You’re clinging to a memory, Phainon.”

“Seeing you again made me realize that’s not the case,” Phainon argues. “And I’d probably think about last night for the rest of my life. Nothing else would ever come close.”

Mydei closes his eyes and agonizes over the fact that Phainon has a knack of making himself utterly convincing, and Mydei’s not exactly known to be proficient at denying him anything aside from the time when he refused to stay. 

It’s concerning how quickly his resolve crumbles when it comes to Phainon, to the point that it has his mind wondering if his choice to distance himself was the right option all along.

“Could it really be that simple?” he asks, unsure if Phainon could even provide an answer for him.

He hears a shuffling sound from the other end of the line before Phainon responds. “Probably not. Can’t we figure it out together?”

Mydei takes a deep breath. It would be far too complicated if that were the case considering how it leaves a lot of things uncertain for the both of them and the coward in him values his comfort too much to take the risk. If this does not work out a second time, Mydei has every right to believe that it will utterly destroy him far worse than it did the first time. 

He must’ve been silent for too long that Phainon had begun to assume that he wouldn't be getting a response. Or maybe he’d simply taken Mydei’s silence as a no.

“You must be tired,” he tells Mydei with a tone that does not betray a lick of what he’s truly feeling. If anything, this could very much be their last conversation. “I’ll hang up now. Good ni—”

“Wait.”

“Yes?” Phainon responds quickly. 

Mydei thinks it through carefully. Not enough when he finds himself wanting to fulfill this urge to see Phainon despite everything. “Where are you right now?”

Phainon takes his time to answer, and when he does, there’s a tinge of hesitance in his voice when he speaks. It’s easily missed by those who don’t listen closely.

“This is embarrassing to say, but—” Phainon chuckles awkwardly. “I’m actually parked outside your bakery. For once, I finally had the bravery to drop by. It looks really nice. Don’t worry, I’ll leave in a bit.”

Mydei could barely register Phainon’s rambling as he leaves his apartment in a rush, taking his keys with him. “Stay there.”

He hears Phainon sputter something incoherent from the other end of the line. “I-I’m sorry?”

“Don’t move. I’m coming.”

Mydei ends the call before Phainon could so much as respond with a ‘yes’ or ‘no.’ He then drives to his bakery using roads he’s gotten familiar with upon his return at Okhema. It was fortunate that the traffic from the rush hour had long since dissipated and he’s able to reach his destination on time.

There, he finds Phainon’s car and Phainon himself leaning against the door—waiting for Mydei. Mydei doesn’t even bother to park as he leaves his car in favor of running towards Phainon’s direction who only now notices his approach. 

“Mydei? What—”

Phainon instinctively catches Mydei the moment that he so much as throws his arms around Phainon before sealing their lips in a kiss that depicts his desperation more than anything else. But Mydei has long since abandoned any sense of dignity. It’s fine, he knows Phainon would have him either way.

When they eventually pull away, Phainon’s eyes are blown wide in a mixture of shock and disbelief. His mouth gapes yet it seems that Mydei has rendered the man speechless.

“After all these years, it’s still so damn hard to say no to you,” Mydei muses softly as he looks directly into Phainon’s eyes, searching for a shroud of regret and hesitance—but all he finds is his reflection and nothing else. 

“Does that mean—?”

Mydei nods. “You said we’ll make this work.”

Phainon draws in a quivering breath. “Of course. I’ll make it up to you.”

“You don’t have to do that. We can start anew… like you said.”

“I’d like that,” Phainon replies.

He’s smiling ear to ear, so wide that Mydei worries he’ll hurt himself, before leaning his forehead against Mydei’s and tightening his hold around him. Not like Mydei has any desire to leave the space that Phainon has carved specifically for him.

Only for him. 

And though his fears and hesitance lay simmering from beneath the surface, Mydei finds comfort at the thought that Phainon would melt them all away eventually. This time, those memories of warmth from years ago would no longer be contained in mere dreams of pure haze alone, and they’ll be back to how they were once before with nary a thought to spare for anything else apart from each other.