𝘠𝘶𝘳𝘪 𝘈𝘺𝘢𝘵𝘰

The rain was softly tapping against the glass when Yuri walked in unannounced. His eyes were swollen, his face pale, his lips trembling. I got up from the couch and ran to him.

—Yuri...

He didn't say anything. He just threw himself into my arms and started crying. He was shaking, and he clung to my shirt like it was the only thing holding him up.

—I told him how I felt... and he laughed. He told me that only desperate people like me notice straight people. That I'm pathetic.

it hurt to hear it.

"He's the idiot," I whispered. "Not you. He doesn't know what he's missing."

—What's wrong with me? Why does this always happen to me?

I pulled it away a bit and looked at it.

—There's nothing wrong with you. You're amazing, Yuri. If he didn't see it, that's his problem.

He stared at me. His eyes were moist and shining. His trembling hand moved to my cheek.

—Why do you say that as if you...?

—Because it's true. And because it hurts me to see you like this.

And then, he leaned in. Our lips almost touched.

It was barely a touch. But it was enough to make my heart skip a beat.

Yuri suddenly stepped away.

—No... no. What am I doing? I'm gay. I've always been. This doesn't make sense...

—What if not everything has to make sense right now?

He looked at me, confused, scared. I didn't insist. I just hugged him again, tightly. And this time, he silently let me hold him. That, for now, was enough.

shut up... he said in a low and scared tone