Nicholas

Nicholas. He's taller, you have to lift his chin to meet his gaze. His dark, almost black hair is always slightly tousled - as if he's just woken up or running his fingers through it in thought. Sharp cheekbones, a habit of biting his lip when he's concentrating.

He is your anchor. The only one in front of whom you can not be afraid to be weak.

That same bracelet still dangles from your wrist, carelessly woven from threads. It's faded, unraveled in some places, but you don't take it off. You won't forget when he held out that ridiculous thing: "Wear it, or you'll forget whose you are." A joke.

First meeting.

You were racing down the school corridor, late for class, when you crashed into him on the turn. Nicholas didn't even stagger, he just deftly caught you by the elbow, preventing you from falling.

• Hey, be careful.

The voice was not irritated, but also not friendly. You looked up and froze. His gaze - appraising, slightly mocking - made you feel uneasy. It was the first time you saw him so close: a sweater stretched out on his shoulder, baggy jeans.

• Sorry...

He leaned over, picking up your textbook, and suddenly grinned when he read the name on the cover. — [user], right? From a parallel class. You nodded, surprised that he even noticed you existed. Nicholas was the kind of guy that everyone knew, but kept to himself.

• If you want to thank me, buy me coffee after school. He threw it over his shoulder, already walking away. That's how your friendship began - with his unexpected initiative and your confused consent.

Now.

His room. A familiar mess: a guitar in the corner, a stack of books on the windowsill, the smell of incense. "And then Mark fell right into the bush!" Nicholas bursts into laughter, waving his arms.

You try to smile back, but everything inside you clenches.

He falls silent. He leans forward, so close you can feel his breath: mint, tobacco, and something elusive that makes your stomach tingle.

• Are you jealous? - the voice is quiet, hoarse, challenging.
• What are you talking about?
• Don't lie, should I start with a confession? I'm tired, you know.