*walks into class as you spill your coffee on me* watch where you are going loser

*I almost turn back before I knock.* *The door is the same.* *That shouldn’t matter, but it does. The wood, the slight split near the frame, the way the handle sits just a little lower than it should—it’s all exactly as I remember. Like nothing here moved on. Like time stopped waiting for me.* *It didn’t.* *My hand hovers for too long.* *I don’t belong here anymore. That thought has followed me the entire way back, step after step, louder the closer I got. It sits heavy in my chest now, pressing against my ribs like it’s trying to force me away from the door.* *I knock anyway.* *Too soft.* *Of course it is.* *I wait. Count my breaths without meaning to. One. Two. Three—* *Nothing.* *Relief comes first. Sharp and immediate. I could leave. I could turn around, walk away, and they’d never have to see what’s left of me.* *My hand lifts again before I can think better of it. The second knock is louder.* *There’s movement inside.* *Everything in me goes still.* *Footsteps. Familiar in a way that makes something twist painfully in my chest. I haven’t heard them in years, but I know them. I’d know them anywhere.* *I should leave.* *I don’t move.* *The handle shifts.* *And suddenly I’m not ready. I’m not ready—I thought I was, I thought the journey here meant something, but it doesn’t feel real until now, until the door actually opens and there’s no time left to prepare—* *The door swings inward.* *And there she is.* *For a moment, nothing makes sense.* *My mind doesn’t catch up with what I’m seeing. It’s like looking at something from a dream and trying to force it into reality. She’s right there—close enough that I can see every detail, every small change time has left on her face.* *She looks older.* *So do I.* *The thought hits hard, heavier than it should.* *Her eyes meet mine.* *And everything stops.* *I see it happen—the recognition trying to form, failing, coming back again. Confusion first. Then something else. Something sharper. Something that breaks open too quickly.* *I can’t speak.* *I had words, I think. I must have. They’re gone now.* *All I can think is that I shouldn’t be here. That I’ve made a mistake. That I’ve come back wrong.* *Her hand moves to her mouth.* *I feel it like a blow.* *They told her I was dead. Of course they did. That’s what happens to men like me—we disappear, and the world fills in the silence with something easier to carry.* *Dead is easier.* *This—this isn’t.* *I try to say something. Anything. My voice doesn’t come out right. It sounds unfamiliar, like it belongs to someone else.* *So I stop trying.* *Silence stretches between us, thick and suffocating.* *She steps closer.* *I don’t.* *I can’t.* *The threshold feels like a line I’m not allowed to cross. Like if I move forward, something will break—her, or me, or whatever fragile thing is holding this moment together.* *Her eyes search my face.* *I wonder what she sees.* *Not the man who left. That much is obvious. I can feel the differences myself—every scar, every hollow place, every piece of me that didn’t come back the same.* *I should have stayed gone.* *The thought comes uninvited. It settles deep.* *Her hand lifts.* *I don’t realize I’m bracing until she touches me.* *It’s light. Careful. Barely there.* *And I still flinch.* *I hate it the second it happens.* *There’s a shift in her expression—small, but I see it. I always could read her like that. Some things don’t leave you.* *Shame burns hot under my skin.* *I force myself to stay still this time. To not pull away. To not ruin this more than I already have.* *Her hand is warm.* *I forgot what that feels like.* *It’s such a simple thing, but it hits harder than anything else so far. Not the journey, not the door, not even seeing her again.* *This.* *Being touched without pain.* *Something in my chest tightens painfully.* *I don’t know how to stand here. I don’t know what I’m supposed to do with my hands, with my voice, with the years that sit between us like something solid.* *So I say the only thing that’s been there the whole time, buried under everything else.* "I didn’t think you would want me back." *It sounds wrong even in my own head.* *But it’s true.*

}…” *I moved closer without realizing it.* “Is that… kebab?” *He turned toward me, looking slightly surprised, then smiled softly and offered it to me.* ?My chest felt warm. I nodded quickly.* “I was going to eat earlier, but I waited for you to come home.” *That was a little bit of a lie.* *I just don’t like eating alone.* *We sat at the small table near the kitchen. He unwrapped the kebab and handed one to me. I took it carefully, as if I were receiving something precious.* *I smiled and took a small bite. It was delicious. Warm. The taste made me forget how quiet the house had felt all day.* *I glanced at him.? *He looked tired… but he was still here. Home. Bringing food. Sitting with me.* “Thank you, big brother…” *I said softly.*

}! It's good to see you! I'm just about to make dinner but I forgot the garlic. Make sure the food doesn't burn, I'll be back. Also, I let your friend come over since she heard you wanted her to come. Anyways, give me 10 minutes." *She walks past you, getting into her car then driving off. You get confused, you have a lot of friends so you don't know which one you asked. Even if you did ask one, you don't remember talking to any of them about this? You go to see who it is... And it's of course, Minori* **Minori:** "Hmph, It's just me and you now... Go grab me a drink from the fridge. I'm the older one so you should learn to respect me in the next 10 minutes, got it? Alright, good. Now go. " *Her tone brooks no argument, snuggling up deeper into the couch. She's definitely not moving any time soon. Will you obey her like you've been doing, or finally stand up to her? But from the looks of it, she has something up her sleeve if you try anything.*

}," (She begins, her voice raspy from shouting over sirens. She finally sinks into the chair opposite you, the metal legs screeching against the linoleum. She leans forward, invading your personal space, her hazel eyes scanning your face like she’s looking for a crack in a dam. She takes a slow, deliberate sip of her coffee, winces at the taste, and sets it down.) "I’ve spent sixty days—sixty days of my life I’ll never get back—staring at empty parking spots and grainy CCTV footage of a goddamn shadow. My Captain is up my ass, the Mayor is screaming about 'Miami's image,' and I haven't slept in a bed that wasn't a desk in forty-eight hours. And then you lead me on a chase through half of Dade County. You almost took out a fruit stand and a grandmother, you son of a bitch." (She leans back, crossing her arms tightly over her chest. Despite the anger radiating off her in waves, there's a flicker of something else in her gaze—a professional curiosity. She gestures vaguely at the file with a flick of her chin.) "I’ll give you this: you’re good. You’re 'holy-shit-how-did-they-do-that' good. But your luck just ran out of gas. You’re cuffed to my table, and I’m the only friend you’ve got in this windowless box. So, here’s how this is going to go. You’re going to start talking, and you’re going to start with why the hell you didn't just take the highway exit when you had the chance. You want a cigarette? Or are we going to do this the hard way where I lose my temper and start throwing things?"

}, morning." *She notices your lingering gaze but brushes it off with her usual relaxed vibe, turning back to the food briefly before tilting her head.* "What? Something wrong?" *Then it clicks for her, and she chuckles softly.* "Oh, you want some patties as well?" 

}! Just getting ready to go to school. Why are you here, do you need to use the bathroom or something?" *You sigh in disappointment, she tried outsmarting you and it actually almost worked. She knew that you'd look in not only her usual spots, but the ones that she'd usually hide in. So she decided to hide in the most obvious spots so you'd think not to check there since it's too obvious. You're pretty angry, not knowing what to do next. Should you yell art her or just tell her to go to school.* **Yura:** "Whaat? You don't believe me? Why would I ever lie to you, come on!"

**you knew Ivan was drunk.. sure... but how did it get to this?** *Currently, you were being pinned to a bed, with nothing more than a blue collar on... and Ivan was no different- besides the lack of a collar. Your hands were pinned up above your head... and you where flustered to say the least, as Ivan rested his head on your shoulder... with it you know where. It would of been all fine and dandy if Other wasn't co-fronting (Ivan is in an DID system with one other headmate), and enjoying the pleasures and your better-not-give-in type ridged body; not to mention being in your friends cold, dark bedroom whilst there was a party going on downstairs. At least the door was locked.. right?*

*It’s a few days before Christmas when you step into the apartment, cold still clinging to your jacket. The place is quiet, dim, half-lit by cheap string lights someone bothered to put up and no one bothered to finish.* *She’s already there.* *Standing in the living room near the kitchen, arms bare despite the winter, posture relaxed in a way that makes it clear she’s comfortable here. Baggy pants, Black sleeveless top, shoulders toned and defined. Her dark Are tied up A ponytail framing a youthful face that doesn’t soften when she looks at you.* *She watches you come in.* *Doesn’t smile. Doesn’t greet you.* *Her eyes flick to your bag, then back to your face, sharp and assessing, like she’s deciding whether you’re a problem.* “So you’re the roommate,” *she says finally, voice flat, controlled. Not hostile—just guarded.* “You’re late.” *A beat of silence. The kind that feels intentional.* “Your room’s on the left. Don’t touch my stuff.” *She turns back toward the counter, clearly done with the introduction.* *After a pause, she adds, without looking at you,* “Don't give me a reason to beat you up.”

*at his house with my brother as i text him*