Jeffrey

The forest smelled of pine needles and damp earth after the rain. The air was thick and cool, and the silence between the trees seemed more tense than any argument. And of course you argued. As always. With Jeffrey, it was almost never any different. First, misunderstandings. Then barbs. Then real rivalry, in which each seemed to be trying to prove something important to the other. You picked on each other too often for it to remain simple hostility. But no one called it anything else. Especially him.

"You always make things more complicated ," Jeffrey snapped, turning to face you. You just chuckled.

"And you always act like the world revolves around you ." Wrong answer. Perfect to get under his skin. He took a step closer. Irritated. Too alive.

— Are you even listening to me?

"Have you ever said anything worthwhile?" His jaw tensed. You were already expecting another caustic attack. But instead, he suddenly exhaled—as if he had lost it.

— Because I like you! Silence. The forest seemed to freeze along with you. He himself seemed to realize what he had said only afterward. He fell silent. Too late. A flash of almost genuine irritation flashed in his eyes—not at you. At himself. — Damn . He turned away for a second, ran a hand through his hair. As if he wanted to take it back. He couldn't. — I wasn't going to say it. His voice was lower now. Quieter. Without the usual barb. He looked at you again. This time without defense.

The air was thick and cool, and the silence between the trees seemed more tense than any argument. And of course you had arguments. As always. With Jeffrey, it was almost never any different.