Chapter Text
The kitchen clock struck twelve, and the midday sun filtered through the lace curtains, casting undulating shadows on the polished surface of the oak table, where a tray of freshly baked cookies still exhaled their warm sweetness into the air. Nathalie, wrapped in an almost hypnotic calm—the kind that seems to dilute the passage of time—stirred her apple tea with the delicacy of someone executing an intimate ritual, the spoon tinkling softly against the porcelain while her smile rested, placid, at the corner of her lips. Her gaze shone serene, illuminated both by the golden light pouring in and by Luk's contagious enthusiasm, who spoke as if the universe depended on each of his words.
He sat across from her in a plaid shirt unbuttoned to the second button—an act of stylistic rebellion or simple morning carelessness—and hair disheveled in an involuntary homage to chaos, gesticulating vehemently, as if conducting an invisible symphony. In his right hand, a cookie ran the imminent risk of crumbling from the passion of his speech.
—So, Nat, I get this email from Brussels—he exclaimed, eyes lit up like a child who'd just discovered a secret of the universe—. A gig! To sing! At the Kisher bar. You don't know it, of course, but it's one of those classy places downtown, where the lighting is dim and the drinks have fancy names. You know? I imagine myself there, singing something profound, and everyone applauding me like I'm Bob Dylan, it's true, I saw it in a dream and you know my dreams come true—he said, sketching a mischievous smile—. Can you believe it? Me, Luk Montero, being cheered by a crowd of those uptight people. I'm going to have to buy a more appropriate suit so I don't look like a hobo.
Nathalie tilted her head, and her laughter—light, musical, with the echo of something that cheers effortlessly—floated in the air like a bell stirred by the wind.
—Bob Dylan, of course, love. Though, if I remember correctly, the last time you practiced a song with "soul," you almost passed out—she responded with sweetness and an arched eyebrow—. You should worry more about eating well, resting, going to the doctor when I tell you... those basic things that help prevent you from collapsing, instead of being so anxious about an event that, tell me, when is it exactly?
—In a month—he said, without losing enthusiasm.
—See? A whole month. Take it easy, you're not on Broadway... yet.
Luk let out a laugh, pointing at her with the cookie as if it were a magic wand capable of converting skepticism into blind faith.
—I'm taking it easy, love, I swear. That day I just forgot to take my meds before rehearsing. Nothing serious. Don't get dramatic, that's my job.
And then he winked at her, with that mix of tenderness and adorable arrogance that always managed to pull a smile from her, even though she tried to stay serious.
The chat flowed with the ease of a marriage that has learned to laugh at its own quirks, transitioning lightly from Luk's musical dreams to the cookies Nathalie had burned from getting distracted reading a novel. But then, as if a stray thought finally found its way, Luk frowned and turned his head toward the stairs, drumming his fingers on the table with a restless rhythm.
—Hey, Nat... And Alexander? I could've sworn I heard him arrive a while ago.
Nathalie looked up from her tea, her expression calm, though with that playful gleam in her eyes that only Luk knew how to interpret after so many shared years.
—Upstairs with Elias, in his room. Probably making some mess like always—she said, without much interest, like someone commenting on the weather.
The cookie Luk had between his fingers broke in two, falling on the table with an unexpectedly loud crunch. His face, normally open and relaxed, tensed in a subtle gesture, as if he'd seen a ghost in slippers.
—In his room?—he repeated, trying to sound casual, though his tone had the stiffness of someone stepping on ground they don't quite trust—. Nat, honey... you've told them to leave the door open, right? It's... important.
Nathalie blinked and set the cup on the saucer with an almost rehearsed elegance. Her voice, soft as a caress, carried a clever edge that Luk knew better than anyone.
—The door open?—she repeated with feigned surprise—. That again? Love, they're just the boys doing what they always do.
Luk cleared his throat, bringing a hand to the back of his neck, scratching it with such insistence he seemed to be drilling for oil.
—I know, it's nothing serious, it's just that... well, I don't know. They should share more with us, be in the living room, go out to the yard a bit. They need fresh air, I suppose. It's not good to always be so locked up in there. You know... there are germs, poor ventilation. Who knows. I'm just saying.
Nathalie tilted her head, and her smile expanded with the calm of a flower opening to the sun.
—Germs? How considerate that you think so much about the boys' health, Luk. Though, if I remember correctly, when Elias was with Valerie, you never worried about ventilation. And with Maxime and his girlfriend, even less. What's so special about today's bacteria?
The blush rose up Luk's neck like a vine, and his hands began to move in gestures, as if trying to shake off the words she'd just launched with such precise aim.
—I know where this is going, Nat. And I'm not saying it because of that—Luk began, raising his hands as if wanting to stop a train with the force of his argument—. Besides, that was... different. I don't know why we're getting off the main topic. Valerie was Valerie, and Maxime is Maxime! And well, maybe I just think the boys now are... you know, they're boys, right? And boys sometimes... do things. Teenage things! I'm not saying they're doing anything weird, but, well, they could...
Nathalie crossed her arms with measured elegance, her serenity intact, but one eyebrow arched with the precision of a scalpel. That eyebrow alone spoke more than any entire paragraph.
—Could?—she repeated, letting the word float in the air like a butterfly difficult to catch—. So, you think Elias and Alex are already doing... that? Is that what you're trying to tell me, love?
—No!—Luk jumped, so fast that a cookie crumb shot from his mouth and landed on the table with an almost theatrical sound—. I mean, I don't know, okay? Maybe! They're young, Nat. Hormones, impulses, those things that happen when you have... you know, youthful energy. But I'm not saying I think they're... oh, I don't even know what I'm saying anymore—he let himself fall in the chair as if the gravity of his own nervousness defeated him, and he ran a hand over his face, wishing his fingers could hide him completely.
Nathalie let out a low laugh, that kind of laugh that doesn't mock, but does caress someone's pride with a mix of tenderness and mischief. She leaned slightly toward him, with that warmth of hers that could melt any argument, even one wrapped in panic.
—Relax, love. Breathe. I don't think they're doing that, they're very young, but if you're so worried, why don't you give Elias the talk? You know, the 'birds and the bees.' You're his dad, and you've always been good with those things.
Luk opened his eyes as if she'd proposed he jump from a plane without a parachute and with his shoelaces tied.
—The talk? Me? No, no, no, Nat! Besides, I kind of already gave it to him. And Elias is... he's a smart kid, right? I'm sure he already knows all that. The internet is full of information! YouTube, TikTok, whatever. Kids today don't need some old fool like me explaining anything.
—Oh, how practical—Nathalie replied, her tone as sweet as her apple tea, but with an almost imperceptible edge that cut like a razor wrapped in velvet—. But I'd like to remind you that when Elias was with Valerie, a girl he probably didn't even like, you were practically writing a script to give him the talk. You were excited. What changed now? Is it because Alexander is his boyfriend?
Luk stammered, caught in his own web of excuses.
—It's not because of Alexander! I love that kid like a son, Nat, you know that. He's a sweetheart and super cool. It's just that... I'm not prepared. Nobody's prepared for these things. What if Elias asks me something weird? What if I draw a blank? I'm not a biology teacher! Or a psychologist. Plus, what if he gets angry? Or worse, what if he asks me about relationships between boys? You know, I don't know anything about that!
Nathalie looked at him tenderly, though a slight amused tremor shook her lips.
—Love, breathe—she said, placing a hand on his—. It's okay. I don't know exactly what's going on with you about this topic, so maybe it's better if I'm the one who talks to him. They're both good boys, they'll understand quickly. But I can't promise you they'll leave the door open—she added with a soft giggle, as if winking at him without moving a muscle.
Luk let out a snort between surrender and laughter, and then simply smiled, letting himself be carried away by Nathalie's contagious laugh, which filled the kitchen like a familiar song.
Then, interrupting that moment like a whirlwind of life, Elias and Alexander came down the stairs at full speed. Elias wore a backpack slung over his shoulder, somewhat bulky, bouncing against his back as he ran.
—Mom, Dad, we're going out with the guys!—Elias shouted, crossing the kitchen without stopping, while Alexander followed with a carefree smile that seemed to light up the room.
—Hello, Mr. Luyten!—Alexander greeted, with that warm and natural tone that always made him seem welcome.
—Hello, buddy. How's it going?—Luk responded, with an automatic smile, barely recovered from the emotional shock. Then he frowned noticing the backpack—. And why are you so loaded up?
—Don't you remember I have a sleepover with Valerie?—Elias said, barely turning his face as he opened the door—. I told you yesterday, and the day before. And last week.
—Ah—Luk responded, blinking—. Did you? Well... yes, I'm sorry, love.
—Be careful on the street, and bundle up!—Nathalie said, raising her voice with firm softness, just before the door closed behind them with a cheerful slam.
The silence returned, warm and comfortable, interrupted only by the sound of wind at the window. Nathalie glanced sideways at Luk, who remained sunken in his chair, staring at his tea cup as if it contained all the secrets of the universe.
—Germs...—she murmured, with a mischievous spark dancing in her eyes.
Luk just grunted, defeated, while the kitchen filled again with the echo of her quiet laughter, a sound that, as always, managed to make everything seem a little less complicated.
The afternoon sun bathed the town in a golden glow, and the air carried a scent of fresh grass mixed with the distant sweetness of wildflowers. Elias with his blonde hair waving like a flag in the wind, and Alexander with his typical calm attitude, pedaled through the narrow streets, the squeak of the bicycles marking a cheerful rhythm that intertwined with their laughter.
The weak autumn sun, to the surprise of all the town's inhabitants, was powerful enough that afternoon to wrap the town in an amber glow, as if someone had spilled liquid honey over the rooftops and treetops. The air smelled of freshly cut grass, with a sweet and distant fragrance of wildflowers that seemed to slip through the streets like a whisper of spring. Elias and Alexander pedaled at full speed through the streets of Wetteren, the metallic screech of the bicycles marking a cheerful rhythm that mixed with their carefree laughter. Elias's golden hair waved in the wind like a rebel flag, and at one point he turned his head mischievously to throw a playful look at Alexander.
—If we're late, it's your fault, Alex! You always get all mushy and won't let me do anything!—he complained with a smile that contradicted the tone of complaint.
Alexander, with one hand loosely resting on the handlebar and the balance of someone who'd done it a thousand times, responded with a crooked, almost defiant smile.
—That's a vile lie, mon amour! The thing is you're a total grandpa on a bike. You're going two miles an hour!
Elias huffed, but couldn't help but laugh.
The journey ended in front of the Jupiter arcade, a vibrant cave of flashing lights, electronic buzzing and teenage and children's screams that overlapped in a kind of chaotic and charming symphony. At the entrance, Valerie, Zoe, Lily, Lukas and Mieke were crowded around a claw machine that cruelly mocked their attempts to grab a pink unicorn plush. Mieke, with a straw between her teeth and a furrowed brow, sipped her drink as if that could channel her fury. When the claw dropped the prize for the fourth time, she let out a murderous growl.
—This is fucking rigged! I should set this thing on fire, for the good of humanity—she spat, hitting the machine with her fist as if that could make it see reason.
Lukas, leaning against the side of the machine with the listlessness of someone who'd accepted defeat from the start, let out a lazy laugh.
—Or you could just admit you suck at this, Mieke—He said with a mocking smile, in a clear attempt to annoy her even more.
—Fuck you, Lukas—she responded without hesitation, while throwing him a look as sharp as a kitchen knife.
Elias and Alexander joined the group amid laughter and jokes. What followed was a series of absurd challenges on the racing machines, shouts of victory and frustration, and a collective outburst when, against all logic, Mieke managed to win a cheap plastic keychain with a hideous caricature of Harry Styles. She lifted it above her head as if it were Excalibur, shouting something unintelligible while the others chanted her name between laughs.
With their stomachs growling and their pockets emptier than their dignity after losing at video games, the group walked to the town center. They ended up in a fast food joint with sticky tables and napkins that fell apart at the first attempt to clean something. They fought over the last fries while devouring greasy burgers, and Lily, always the group's exaggerated narrator, told how she'd been about to beat the record on the pinball machine, using dramatic gestures that would have made a soap opera actor cry with pride.
But the afternoon changed tone when Zoe, after looking at her phone with a furrowed brow, suddenly stood up.
—I have... to go. I remembered that damn science assignment that's driving me crazy—she murmured, avoiding the inquisitive looks from the others.
Nobody insisted. It wasn't necessary. Everyone knew Matteo was going to show up there later, and Zoe clearly wasn't ready to face him. She said goodbye with quick hugs, vague promises of "see you soon," and left without looking back.
The rest of the group stayed silent for a few seconds, as if her departure had broken an invisible spell. But, as if drawn by a secret compass, they all knew where to go next. Without need for words, they set off toward their usual refuge: the abandoned factory on the outskirts of town. A skeleton of bricks eaten away by time and rusted beams that creaked under their steps, where the echo witnessed laughter, secrets and teenage nonsense that always ended up seeming more important than they were.
In the factory, the air had that unmistakable smell of abandoned places: a mixture of dry dust, rusted metal and a persistent humidity that stuck to the skin like an invisible layer. Each breath seemed to bring with it decades of forgotten stories. The sun's rays filtered in oblique beams through the broken windows, casting patches of light that danced on the cracked floor like playful ghosts. Between the cracks in the concrete, stubborn weeds pushed through with admirable obstinacy, claiming territory amid the chaos.
The place, with its half-ruined structure and silence interrupted only by the echoes of their own voices, was a charming chaos: a sanctuary of disorder, a kind of blank canvas for all the crazy ideas the group could come up with.
In a secluded corner, Lukas and Mieke had claimed their own "battlefield," fiercely competing in an improvised tournament that consisted of throwing pebbles at an old rusty can hanging precariously from a beam. The can tinkled each time one of them hit it—though that didn't happen as frequently as both claimed.
—Three points, easy!—Lukas shouted with a champion's air just before missing spectacularly, provoking a loud round of boos from Mieke.
She, delighted with her victorious turn, nailed her throw and launched into a triumphant dance that looked like a mix between a tribal ritual and a poorly rehearsed TikTok choreography. The result was an explosion of laughter from the group.
—I beat you, asshole!—Mieke exclaimed, while Lukas threw himself to the floor with theatrical drama.
Not far away, Valerie and Lily had settled on a moss-covered cement block, as if it were a decadent throne. Armed with colored chalk—some whole, others so small they could barely hold them between their fingers—they traced shapeless scribbles on a peeling wall that had become their personal mural. They weren't trying to draw anything recognizable: just crooked lines, deformed figures, deliberately misspelled words and insolent symbols that bordered on crude. Lily laughed as she added increasingly provocative details, enjoying dirtying the wall with that childish and defiant chaos.
—This shit is modern art!—Lily declared with a solemn and satisfied tone, contemplating the work with crossed arms.
Valerie, with her hands and face splattered with blue chalk, doubled over with laughter as she tried to add more details to the portrait, which was on its way to becoming a grotesque mixture between Santa Claus and a forest gnome.
In another corner of the place, half-hidden between shadows and broken light, Elias and Alexander lived in their own silent bubble. Leaning against a crooked beam that creaked softly under their shared weight, they were so close they seemed like a single figure, breathing in unison. Alexander, standing right behind the blonde, wrapped him around the waist with an embrace that didn't ask for permission or explanations: it was firm, but gentle, as if its only purpose were to keep Elias anchored to the present, protected from anything that could interrupt their calm. His chin rested lazily on the boy's shoulder, and his fingers wandered slowly along the edge of his shirt, occasionally brushing the warm skin with an almost involuntary delicacy.
Elias, with a smile so bright it seemed to capture all the remnants of sun that managed to filter into the factory, held his phone in front of both of them. He showed him, with contagious enthusiasm, photos of a small stray kitten he'd found that very morning—a discovery Alexander had also witnessed hours before, but that Elias relived as if it were a new and miraculous event.
—Look, Alex, it's so small it could fit in my shoe!—the blonde said with that cheerful voice that always managed to draw a smile from him, no matter how much Alexander tried to hold back.
The brunette, infected by the evident tenderness in his boyfriend's eyes, smiled calmly, without needing to exaggerate his emotion.
—I know, love. Remember I saw it this morning—he responded, with a measured tone and a bright, almost amused look at the passion with which Elias spoke.
—I know you did! But God! Isn't it the cutest thing you've ever seen?—he exclaimed with an excited sigh, on the verge of a cuteness attack.
Alexander let out a low, warm laugh that vibrated against the skin of Elias's neck and made him shiver slightly.
—Sure, Eli... it even looks like you—he murmured, with that voice he used when he wanted to sound casual, but couldn't hide how in love he was.
Elias turned his head just enough to stick out his tongue at him, in a mocking gesture that didn't break the embrace, but deepened it. He let himself be wrapped even more, as if Alexander's body were his natural refuge, letting him understand without words that he could hold him tighter, that he could get even closer. The brunette, without hesitation, responded with a firmer pressure, and his body aligned with the other's in an almost perfect closeness. Soft, scattered kisses soon emerged, like unhurried promises, that Alexander left on his boyfriend's neck while the world kept turning around them, without interrupting them.
A mischievous smile formed on Elias's lips as he barely turned his head to meet Alexander's eyes, without breaking the intimacy of the moment.
—Hey...—he whispers, with a crooked smile and eyes shining with that mischievous spark that only Alexander knows how to ignite—. Your hands are super cold—he adds, letting out a soft, almost nervous laugh, as he shivers slightly under the touch. His boyfriend's hands no longer just rest on his belly: now they explore brazenly, sliding with dangerous calm over his warm skin, as if wanting to memorize every line, every reaction. Elias doesn't pull away, but his breathing quickens barely, between surprise and the tingling that contact provokes.
Alexander smiled with that expression that always managed to accelerate Elias's heart, and far from stopping his caresses on his boyfriend's stomach, he intensified them slightly, enjoying the reaction he provoked on the sensitive skin.
—Oh yeah?—Alexander whispered, with a honeyed voice and a false innocence that fooled no one—. And what do you plan to do about it?—he added, while his fingers drew increasingly slow and wide circles on Elias's waist and abdomen, touching with the delicacy of someone who knows well the effect it has.
The contrast between the coldness of his hands and the warmth of Elias's skin was intoxicating. Elias arched slightly, as if by reflex, and let out a sigh that dissolved into a giggle between teeth, surrendered to that mix of desire and tenderness.
But just when the tension thickened like fog on a closed dawn, Elias decided to change the moment's rhythm. A spark of mischief lit in his eyes and, without warning, he raised his voice brazenly, dragging the others into his private universe transformed into a joke.
—Hey! Come see the kitten I adopted! It's adorable!—he exclaimed with a theatrical tone, as if he'd just discovered a miracle in his lap.
Alexander reacted as if someone had turned on a light in the middle of the night. His hands jumped out from under Elias's shirt with an almost comical clumsiness, and the expression of guilt on his face gave him away immediately. Elias smiled at him, satisfied, giving him a soft elbow while containing the rest of his laughter on his lips.
Valerie, from the other side, lifted her head as if she'd heard a divine call. Her eyes lit up instantly, and without even bothering to shake the chalk-stained hands well, she ran toward them, wiping her fingers on her jeans with total nonchalance.
—Aww, it's precious! Does it have a name yet?—she asked with eyes shining with excitement.
—No... actually, that's what we were discussing with Alex a while ago—Elias responded, showing her the screen with pride.
—How about "Tiger"?—Lukas proposed, arriving just in time to join the debate, leaning in to get a better look at the phone.
—Oh, Lukas... that's super cliché—Lily replied quickly, frowning as if she'd just heard blasphemy.
—Yeah, not "Tiger"! It doesn't even look like one, it's like silver—Mieke contributed, coming from missing another shot and clearly seeking redemption through creativity—. I say it should be called Paws, because, well... it has paws.
Lily and Valerie looked at each other for a second and burst into laughter.
—Paws?! What's next, Whiskers?—Lily laughed, letting out a snort of amusement.
—Yeah, Mieke... that's even more cliché—Alexander added, barely lifting his head from his boyfriend's neck to join the mockery with a charming, teasing smile. Mieke, without missing a beat, responded by raising her middle finger with a solemn air and defiant expression.
Alexander smiled widely and curled back into Elias's neck, closing his eyes for an instant, breathing in the familiar scent of his skin, as warm and comforting as always.
While the others continued debating absurd ideas and increasingly ridiculous names, Elias and Alexander slipped back into their little parallel universe. Both their fingers intertwined distractedly on the phone screen, scrolling through the kitten's photos as if somehow, choosing its name were a sacred task.
—I say Luna, because of her little eyes. Don't you think?—Elias proposed, with a soft voice, snuggling even more against Alexander's chest, as if wanting to stay there forever.
—Luna? Sounds like a super cheesy pop song—Alexander replied, amused, while holding him a bit tighter, his voice tinged with that complicity only the two of them understood—. Better... Rocket.
—Alex! For the thousandth time! It's a girl!—Elias protested between laughs.
—It's also a girl's name! I think...—the brunette murmured with an expression of mocking doubt.
Their laughter mixed as one, warm and calm, becoming a soft echo that bounced between the factory's old walls, completely isolating them from the dust, rust and voices of the world.
—Actually, I do like "Luna"—
The cheerful chaos of the group continued like a spontaneous and charming symphony. Lukas, determined to make everyone laugh, tried to balance a pebble on the tip of his shoe, only for Mieke to push him between laughs, making him stumble as he fell wrapped in laughter. A few meters away, Valerie and Lily had abandoned the drawings and now invented an absurd story about a curse hidden in the old factory. The chalk rolled across the floor as if they were enchanted pieces of their improvised narrative.
But the atmosphere's energy changed, subtle but inevitable, when firm steps echoed at the entrance. Matteo and Ezra appeared, hair still damp from soccer practice, backpacks hanging from one shoulder, and fresh smiles that brought something new, more vibrant.
Elias lit up seeing them, his face igniting like a lamp someone had just turned on.
—About time, slowpokes!—he shouted with genuine joy, his voice bouncing off the peeling walls. Lukas and the girls received them with jokes and slaps, throwing comments about how long they'd taken.
Alexander, on the other hand, didn't move.
He and Elias shared the same space, attentive to something in front of them—it didn't matter exactly what—when his gaze drifted, almost unwillingly, toward Ezra. Something tensed inside him. There was something in that crooked smile, in the dark hair falling carelessly over his eyes, that scraped him inside. It wasn't just annoyance: it was suspicion. Contained jealousy. The persistent echo of gestures that accumulated without permission: comments too kind, looks that lasted a second too long, a closeness Alexander couldn't ignore.
Without saying anything, he moved a bit closer to Elias, like someone who doesn't want to draw attention. His movement was natural, almost imperceptible. And then, before he could think about it too much, his hands settled on Elias's waist with a calm confidence. He turned him toward himself in a gentle but decided gesture, enveloping him with a closeness that spoke as much of care as of territory. Elias barely had time to react, surprised, when Alexander leaned in and kissed him.
But it wasn't a quick or distracted kiss. It was slow, full of intention. His lips first landed with reverence on Elias's, as if wanting to recognize every contour, memorize the warmth and texture of his mouth. Then, with growing determination, he deepened the contact, moving with a patient but firm cadence, one that spoke of contained desire, of a need that required no explanation or words.
His fingers gripped Elias's waist tightly, drawing him so close that not even air fit between their bodies. The other hand slid toward his nape, gently tangling in his blonde hair, caressing it with a tenderness that contrasted with the intensity of his lips. Alexander tilted his head slightly, seeking the perfect angle, and a trembling sigh escaped Elias, who let himself be carried by the kiss as if the world around him had dissolved.
From his spot, Ezra watched the scene with an expression hard to read: surprise, without doubt, but also something more hidden, murkier. His dark eyes fixed on the way Alexander held Elias, on the intensity of the kiss, on the way the blonde's body surrendered completely to the contact. A crooked smile formed on his lips, ironic and barely visible, but the tension marked in his jaw revealed another story. His hands closed slightly at his sides, rigid, and though for a second he looked away, he inevitably returned to rest it on them, as if watching them were a self-imposed punishment.
Alexander and Elias's bodies aligned as if the entire universe had held its breath not to interrupt them, suspended in an intimate instant where only the shared heartbeat and the gravity between them existed.
—Hey, guys!—Matteo's voice came from some point behind them, clear and completely ignored.
Finally, as if even the air refused to release that bond, Alexander slowly loosened the pressure, letting the kiss extinguish in one last soft caress, like a mute promise. Upon separating, Elias was slightly breathless, with flushed cheeks and a confused but luminous smile curving his lips.
—What was that?—he asked with a soft laugh, still recovering—. What made you so loving out of nowhere?
Alexander shrugged, feigning lightness, though his eyes still shone with something deeper, truer.
—Just... because I wanted to, Eli. Does there need to be a reason? I always want to kiss you.
Elias didn't respond with words, but his expression said it all. He closed his eyes and rested his forehead against Alexander's chest, letting himself be enveloped by his warmth, as if there he found not only refuge, but the most absolute certainty of all.
A few steps away, Matteo frowned, his hand gripping the backpack strap so hard his knuckles turned white. The scene before him stirred something he didn't want to name. It wasn't jealousy, obviously—not of them exactly—but a pang of nostalgia, of loss. He remembered Zoe, and everything he no longer had with her. He hid it behind a joke.
—Hey, isn't there a hotel nearby? Remember you also have to give time to your friends, then you can do your... things.
His voice came out sharper than he intended. Lukas noticed immediately and gave him a complicit elbow.
—Relax, Matteo. Love isn't contagious—he said, amused. Matteo huffed something about "sappy couples," but even he didn't seem to take it seriously. Lukas laughed louder and gave him a slap on the back so hard it almost made him stumble.
Ezra approached with the same confidence as always, as if the previous kiss hadn't happened or simply didn't matter to him.
—Is that the famous cat you told me about?—the dark-haired boy said, pointing at the blonde's phone, which he held in his right hand, with the screen unlocked, showing that feline tenderness in all its splendor—. Let me see the photos, Eli—he said with an impeccable smile, one of those that Alexander always felt was a mask.
Elias responded with a cordial smile and passed him the phone. They talked about the cat for a moment, as if nothing else existed, as if there had been no tension whatsoever. And yet, for Alexander, that brief exchange wasn't innocent.
From where he stood, he watched in silence. He saw how Ezra leaned barely toward Elias, how he lowered his voice just when saying something, how his eyes fixed with an intention only he seemed to notice. It wasn't that Elias responded with the same, but he didn't notice it either.
He pressed his fingers against his own crossed arms. It wasn't irrational jealousy, he repeated to himself, just a distrust that came from accumulated days and misplaced looks. Something burned in his chest, silent and persistent.
And just before he could approach or say something, Valerie stood up, dusting off her jeans.
—Well, now that the star soccer players are here, mission accomplished. Time to move!—she announced, as if closing the afternoon were more an act of routine than urgency.
She didn't say it looking at anyone in particular, much less Ezra. She just marked the end of the day with her usual energy.
The others activated instantly. Lukas threw chalk in the air, Matteo stretched with a feigned complaint and they began to gather their things between shoves and jokes. That afternoon, all of them would sleep at Matteo's house, as they had already planned: an improvised sleepover that didn't include Valerie, Elias or Alexander. That's why their time together was so limited.
—Tonight I'm staying with Val, remember?—Elias told Alexander, with a mischievous smile as he leaned toward him.
Alexander responded with a soft elbow, entering the game.
—Oh yeah? I kind of remember. I think you mentioned something...—Alex said with a calm but sarcastic smile.
—That's right, Alex, I'm stealing him tonight, bitch!—Valerie intervened, stepping forward appearing in front of the brunette with a mocking smile and an amused expression, which drew a light laugh from him—. You're going to have to survive without him, sorry.
—Steal him? Go ahead, he's all yours—Alexander joked, raising his hands as if surrendering—. Anyway I was already getting bored of him.
Elias raised an eyebrow, theatrical. He looked at him with a furrowed brow and half-open mouth, as if he'd just witnessed an unforgivable betrayal. Still, in his eyes shone that spark that betrayed that he knew the game.
—Silly.
—Kidding, silly, you know my aunt Eva arrives today, so it's impossible to stay with anyone.
His tone was light, but his gaze didn't lie. He sought Elias's eyes and there left a mute, warm promise, which Elias returned with a calm smile.
—Hey, but why don't you guys just come with us? That way we'll have a bigger sleepover, all together and stuff—Matteo interrupted, tilting a smile.
—It's just that I owed Valerie a night from a long time ago—Elias responded, shrugging with a complicit smile.
—Yeah, Matteo, organizing this at the worst moment, besides, you wouldn't understand... it's "girls'" night—Valerie joked, letting out a laugh that ended up infecting the dark-haired boy, who let out a laugh before receiving a light push from Elias, who couldn't help but laugh either.
The goodbyes were a whirlwind of laughter and half-made plans. Elias and Valerie walked away together, planning a night of popcorn and bad movies, while Lukas and Matteo argued about some stupidity—probably the darker one's supposed lack of skill—though both knew it was just an excuse to affectionately bother each other. Alexander, as he had told him, wouldn't go because of a family commitment... though deep down, he also knew he simply didn't want to be near Ezra that night, or any night.
Before leaving, Elias and Alexander said goodbye with a soft brush of lips, a brief kiss but charged with a tenderness that needed no words. Matteo, seeing it, rolled his eyes with so much drama that Lukas couldn't contain a laugh.
—Relax, bro, let others be happy!—he joked.
Matteo grunted, kicking a loose stone, but a shy smile escaped him, betraying his grumpy facade. Ezra, for his part, stayed behind, watching the group with an indecipherable expression, while the sun sank behind the factory, leaving the air fresh and full of echoes of an afternoon that, as always, left more questions than answers.