The Soulmate System

21. A Theme of "Things Left Unsaid" & Regression

If Bryce had said "yes", Dylan would've said how happy he was; that he recognised that he was falling in love with Bryce, and that he hoped the same was happening with Bryce.

If Bryce had said "no", then Dylan would've demanded him gone for the night. A downtrodden Bryce would've entered work the next morning hoping to talk about the circumstances.

Neither happened.

Bryce didn't sleep that night. He had spent too much time thinking about his decision to leave Dylan's flat abruptly and without an answer, leaving his Soulmate very confused and slightly dejected.

The door to his room firmly closed, Bryce listened to the soft ruffle of his bedding as he pulled them closer into his chest. 'Why'd you hesitate?' Bryce was almost certain he'd of said "yes".

His eyes closed to the darkness, and a follow-up question immediately popped into his head – 'Why does this feel different?' But he ignored the anxious emptiness in his stomach. Bryce groaned quietly, the sound muffled by his mouth against the pillow, and closed his eyes.

~ ~ ~

Halfway across the City, Dylan stood his ground, staring wide-eyed into the white box. Sitting down on one of the stools, he slowly slid the top back on, covering the spare key again. It hadn't moved since Bryce last touched it.

'How long have I been here?' he pondered for a moment. But the answer didn't matter to him.

With a heartbroken wail, Dylan broke down, hot tears running down his face. Eyes turning red, his sadness spun into anger. 'This is what comes from being attached to someone. I wish I'd never met him.'

At that moment, Dylan genuinely meant it.

Angry, warm tears stained his cheeks. Or were they tears of loss?

Dylan didn't care.

All he knew was that he loved someone who wasn't there.

Dylan didn't sleep that night.

~ ~ ~

In the bathroom mirror, Bryce noted the sunken, dark rings under his eyes that morning. He sniggered quietly to himself and thought, 'They match Dylan's'.

The thought dissipated when his fatigued, foggy mind reminded of his decision. He reprimanded himself and mentally began crafting his apology.

~ ~ ~

Halfway across the City, Dylan rolled over in his bed and shut off the alarm clock. He produced an exhausted groan of defeat and reached for the phone.

~ ~ ~

Under normal circumstances, two security guards and something of a greeter sat in the lobby of the office building, generally welcoming those who entered from a small desk that also acted as a reception counter. All who were at the circular counter generally gave pleasantries before one party moved off to the upper floors.

Both security guards had been called away, but Michael remained, watching something on his computer with rings to match Bryce's.

Bryce waited. Michael didn't look up.

"Michael."

The guard inhaled quickly and looked up; blinking like this was the first time he'd seen sunlight. "Yeah?" he asked absentmindedly.

Bryce waited. "Michael."

Michael rubbed his eyes. He groaned, cleared his throat, and looked clearly at Bryce. "Good morning, Mr. Houghton. How are you?"