In Every Universe

8

Win was a lot of things but dumb and blind were certainly not one of them. But one could argue that he was pretending to be both when it came to Bright.

They are just friends, he insists to himself, nothing less and nothing more. And it was a friendship he welcomed with open arms after months of the cold shoulder punctuated by moments of snark.

It was nice to have someone to talk to during lull hours in the shop, and there were a lot of lull hours. It felt good to be with someone who understood how unpredictable grief was, how lively conversations could suddenly stall as your mind drifts to a memory.
Win had friends but since his brother's death he kept his distance, not knowing how to talk to people from "before."

The conversations no matter how easygoing or lingering were simple to attribute to a new friendship. But then of course, there were the other things Bright did that made it far more difficult for Win to remain steadfast in his insistence that there was nothing more there.

The little notes Bright left on Win's counter. The music in the store always playing music from a band or an OST Win had previously mentioned.
The way Bright would wait til 2pm to eat lunch - the same time Win could take his.
The quiet moments Bright would fill by strumming a guitar, asking Win for song requests.

These created little cracks in the platonic blinders Win kept firmly on.

But then, it happened.

Bright began insisting to walk him home.

It started on a day Win took the bus on a whim. No real reason behind the decision.

The day carried on as usual and come closing time, Bright walked him to the store front before he locked the doors, like he always does.

But Bright notices that Win had no car keys in hand and his truck was nowhere within sight.

"I didn't want to drive today," Win shrugged.

"But how are you getting home?"

"I was thinking of waiting for the bus."

"I don't think they pass by here at this hour."

Win shrugs again. "I'll walk. It's fine."

"But -"

"Bright, I'm a grown man, I'll be fine."

As Bright turns back towards the doors, store key in hand, Win starts walking down the street. He prepares himself for a quiet journey home when he hears footsteps behind him.

"What are you doing?," Win asks, brows knitted.

"Walking with you."

"Why?"

"I need the exercise."

"Didn't you just go for a run this morning?"

"I ate a big lunch."

"You had a sandwich."

"It was a big sandwich."

Win laughs. "Should I be offended? I know how to handle myself. I have walked alone before."

Bright hesitates for a moment and Win begins to regret questioning his presence - it's not as if having Bright beside him would inconvenience him. He was about to take it all back but Bright talks first.

"I just want to walk with you," Bright said, his tone as serious as ever, his eyes shining with earnestness.

Win nods and they walk.

Silent at first but the conversation soon  trickled in.

The way they talked, it was as if they weren't together the whole day.