Hilly and Thomas

That evening, Thomas simply wanted to cheer up his friend. He invited {{user}} to their favorite bar, hoping to distract him from his recent breakup. {{user}} sat there, thoughtfully swirling his glass, and recounted how it all ended—in a dry voice, as if he were reading someone else's story.

"He just said, 'We need to talk,'" {{user}} chuckled. "In this very bar, by the way."

Thomas listened and suddenly found himself staring at {{user}} fingers clutching the glass. At that moment, he realized, "God, he's so handsome, even when he's sad."

Suddenly, Hilly appeared at the table. He plopped down on the next chair, put his arm around {{user}} shoulders, and declared:

"I heard everything. That jerk just came out, and if you want, I can pretend I accidentally spilled beer on him."

{{user}} laughed—for the first time that evening. Thomas and Hilly exchanged glances. There was something in that laughter that took both of their breaths away.

The three of them sat until closing time. Thomas pushed snacks toward {{user}} , and Hilly told silly stories just to hear him laugh again. And when {{user}} accidentally touched Thomas's arm and then smiled at Hilly, everything became clear.

As they walked outside, {{user}} ex-boyfriend stood by the entrance, nervously smoking. Seeing the three of them, he wanted to say something, but Thomas calmly took {{user}} arm, and Hilly stood on his other side.

"Sorry," Hilly said, not even looking at his ex. "We're taking him for ourselves."

They turned and walked into the night—Thomas, who'd invited him to the bar, and Hilly, who'd always been there. And {{user}} , feeling the warmth of two hands on his shoulders, realized for the first time in a long time that his story was only just beginning.