FEELS || ☆

ii. comfort

𝐀𝐕𝐀 -

The whole apartment was eerily quiet, save for the distant hum of passing cars and the gentle patter of raindrops against the windowpane. As I glanced around the living room, I couldn't help but feel a sense of relief that things were finally a little calmer. The space looked better than before, but it still needed a deep clean. Nevertheless, I could sense a subtle shift around me, a sense of comfort settling in as I glanced around the corners me and Alex did clean earlier.

Kyan was likely holed up in his room, the closed door almost like a barrier between us. I imagined him sitting on his bed, perhaps scrolling through his phone in an attempt to distract himself from the turmoil within. The thought made me worry even more about his well-being.

Collecting all my courage, I approached his closed door, my footsteps echoing softly in the hallway. Next to his door stood a black shelf adorned with a picture and some fake flowers. I couldn't help but remember the time I had insisted he buy those flowers when he first moved in about two years ago.

"You seriously can't think about calling a place without flowers your home? Everyone has flowers, fake or not," I had teased him, a playful grin tugging at my lips as I placed the white fake tulips into the shopping cart.

Despite Kyan's tendency to keep his personal space private, I knew I had to push past my own reservations. He needed me now, not as a stranger, but as a friend.

So, I raised my hand and knocked three times on his door, the sound echoing in the hallway. Then, I stepped back, my heart pounding in my chest, and waited for a response. The seconds stretched into an agonizing silence, broken only by the sound of my own breathing.

Once again, there was no answer. I knocked again, this time a little louder, but still, there was nothing but silence. A pang of uncertainty gnawed at me. Was he painfully obviously ignoring me, or was he simply lost in his own thoughts?

Taking a deep breath, I steeled myself, eager to make him listen. "Kyan, please, let us talk," I called out, my voice soft yet filled with urgency as I knocked once more, my hand resting on the door.

I sensed his hesitation, the tension so deep one could feel it even through the closed door. I knew he was awake, that he had heard me. And then, just as I was about to give up hope, already turning my heel, the door swung open, revealing him standing there, his expression weary yet resigned.

There was so much left unsaid between us, so many wounds that needed to heal. But in that moment, as our eyes met, I knew that we had taken the first step towards peace.

Kyan stood in the doorway, his figure bathed in the warm light streaming from the little light on his nightstand. Despite his disheveled appearance and the weariness etched into his features, there was a flicker of vulnerability in his eyes that mirrored my own confusing emotions.

"Still here, huh," he muttered, his hand absently running through his tousled hair as he shifted uncomfortably under my gaze.

"What do you think?" I replied, a soft chuckle escaping my lips as I offered him a tentative smile. "I wasn't about to leave you here, not like this." The air between us crackled with tension, the weight of unspoken words hanging heavy in the room.