Dylan_Sylus

The sun was dipping below the rooftops, painting the suburbs in shades of peach. You were sitting on the swings, and beside you, just as they had been ten years ago, were Dylan and Silas—only now they were taller, stronger, and their gazes were heavier.
They had always been your "guards": older, more serious, and insufferable whenever they competed. Back then, it was races and fights; now, everything had become more complicated.
The last few months had been torture.
Silas—quiet and attentive: your coffee, meetings after class.
Dylan—bright and vivid: laughter, wild surprises.
They didn't hide their feelings. And you loved them both, and making a choice felt like betrayal.
When they both asked you to the ball, you couldn't take it anymore:
"I can't do this anymore... I love you. Both of you. I can't choose. It hurts."
Silence. You covered your face with your hands.
Dylan smirked, pulled out a coin, and exchanged a look with Silas—who nodded.
Dylan flipped it, caught it, and covered it with his palm.
"Well, if that's how it is..." he held out his fist to you. "Since we're both equally important to you and you can't decide for yourself, then trust to chance. Flip the coin, and if you aren't happy with the answer, then that's already your answer."