Choux Cream Cake

Peaches

It's been a few days since N'Yim left the house, and Perth still won't tell me about the ring. At work, behind the bar, I'd pass by and catch a glimpse of red in the corner of my eye. At home, when he would hold it between his fingers and look at it with a forlorn look dawning his face, I'd approach him, then attempt to ask about it only to be dismissed completely. It was as if the ring occupied the entirety of his thoughts. Day after day he got increasingly quieter, increasingly distant. The ring annoyed me as much as it piqued my interest.

Just what was that ring?

One night, after work, we were back on the couch. He was distracted by whatever it was on the screen, his arms spread out on the back of the cushions, and I couldn't help but notice that his pocket was within reach. I scooched over a little, bit by bit, then I leaned over. By now I'd caught his attention, but he did nothing, his eyes merely glued onto my movements, curious. My hand slipped into his pocket and I reached further in until I felt the metallic texture I was searching for. I pulled the ring out and held it up to my face.

"What are you- Hey!" He flailed his arms out but I jolted out of his reach, stretching my arm out, raising the ring up.

"I'm not going to give it to you until you tell me what this is," I said to him as I blocked his arms from the ring. Surely, he could tell me- he's been so secretive about it. It couldn't be that serious. It's just a ring, metal with a ruby in the middle- what's so special about it that he needs to keep looking at it everyday, and most importantly, why keep it from me?

Before I could finish my thoughts, I felt his weight climb over me briefly, followed by a sharp sting on my right cheek as wind flowed past it, the metal of the ring grazing a small line on my cheek as he sat back down as quickly as he climbed up.

"Ah!" My hand jolted up to my cheek as I exclaimed, catching his attention. He stuffed the ring back in his pocket before he turned his body to me, his hands coming up to cup my jaw, tilting it to look at the small cut. His face gentled with a look of concern, one I'd kind of missed.

It was better than being completely ignored.

"Shit, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to do that," he took my hand and stood me up, leading me to the kitchen.

My body leaned against the counter top as he cleaned the cut with a cotton bud, our faces in closer proximity than it had been for the past few days. How ironic it must be that I was injured, yet I was the one cherishing the moment. Really, his eyelashes are the epitome of beauty when you see them up close.

"You have the habit of making me bleed a lot," I said as I hissed at the chemical making contact with the rawness, reminiscing the time he made my nose bleed in the cafe.  

He huffed a small laugh, "Yeah, I know," then his smile faded, "I have the habit of hurting people a lot in general." He put down the cotton bud then opened up a bandage, sticking it onto the cut.

Seeing the expression on his face, his words weighted with some type of guilt, I held his wrist, "I know you didn't mean to hurt me, you know," I said as I looked into his eyes.

He gently dropped his hands down, looked at me, then he took out the ring from his pocket, took my hand, and he put the ring in my palm. Thereafter, he circled over to lean against the stove top beside me, his head looking forward at the opposite wall. He heaved a heavy sigh, "You want know about the ring, right?"

"Yes."

After a beat, he looked down at the floor, "I bought it for the person who, believe it or not, I wanted to marry after only two years. She was beautiful, real down to earth, love of my life- and she liked rubies too, it's why I bought that specific one," his tone was reminiscing, yet carried a blue tone with it as his voice broke a little, he looked up again at the wall.

"The night I was going to propose to her, she called me up first. She said we needed to talk. Then when I got there, all she told me was that she had something she'd been meaning to tell me for months, but she needed a bit more time before she could tell me- that she needed to go away, and I got confused. We had a whole argument in her house, and she told me it didn't matter what I said because she'd still be leaving the next night- that's how we left it, I stormed out."

His voice started to get shaky, "I couldn't take it, I couldn't handle her leaving so suddenly no matter how hard I tried to just let her go. So I called her, but she was already on her way to wherever it was she was going, I begged her on the phone to turn around."

He paused, and his eyes glazed over with tears, threatening to fall. He opened his mouth, bit his lip, then continued, "Next thing I heard was car tires, then a crash, glass shattering," his lips quivered, "Her screams."

A single tear dropped from his left eye as he took another weighted pause. He tried to slow down his breathing as he continued, trying to convince the tears to go back into his skull by looking up into the ceiling, then coming back down again, "The line cut off after that. Someone called the ambulance in the area where she crashed, then the hospital called me a few hours later- she was dead on arrival. When they retrieved the dashcam footage, she was talking to me and shouting at her phone in her hand, then she swerved onto a wrong lane, and lost control because she only had one hand free on the wheel."

He turned to me with his bloodshot eyes and damp cheeks, he nodded to the ring in my hand, "I threw that thing against the wall that night, didn't think I'd see it again," he sniffled, "I kept looking at it because I kept wondering about what she'd said- I still don't know what it is she kept from me, none of her friends knew either," he turned back around, "The last time I saw her was when we argued. And the last thing I heard was her scream. It's hard to not blame myself for the crash either, sometimes I ask myself if maybe I'd called earlier or if I hadn't called at all… would she still be here?"

My heart sunk at the sight of his wrecked image, the cut on my cheek was an ant compared to the wound he'd just reopened right in front of me. An anvil of guilt weighted on me knowing that I made him revisit his painful trauma.

I put the ring on the countertop and stood in front of him. He sniffled as I held his face up in my hands and wiped away his tears. "You can't stop the past from happening no matter how hard you try. It's already happened, and as painful as it is," I made sure he was looking straight at me, "It's no use crying over something you can't change."

The ring was left forgotten in the kitchen as I embraced him in my bed, his back against my chest, my arms locked around him and our legs intertwined under the sheets. I gave him my warmth, hoping that would be enough to comfort him.

"You know, she bought your cake for me on my birthdays," he said as his hands mindlessly caressed my arm, his voice was slightly nasal, fresh from crying.

"Oh?"

"It's why I love your choux creams. Not saying that it's only because she bought it, I mean like- you know, your caking- uh, baking, is great, and it's delicious and it's amazing, it's just-," he blabbered on, tripping over his words.

"I get it, Perth, I know."

He sighed, then he loosened my hold and he shifted, turning around to face me, then he scooched down and buried his face in my chest while he wrapped his arms around my waist. I adjusted to the new position then wrapped my arms around his neck, fingers lightly brushing through his hair. Then, I leaned down to kiss his hair. He said one last thing before he went to sleep.

"Her name was Peach."

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Yeah i fcked up my paper but I'm back, and I have the outline-ish and I've set the amount of chapters I wanna do with this story.

Please do note when I pause updates and repeatedly tell you why, please, for the love of all things BL don't ask me for an update.

Thank you.