•⋅⊰∙∘☾✶☽∘∙⊱⋅•✾•⋅⊰∙∘☾✶☽∘∙⊱⋅•

Of course Damien was. The man was as persistent as a raccoon that had found a trash can with a faulty lock and wasn’t going to be deterred by my refusal to engage.

I was dumb to think he’d give up that easily.

I focused intensely on a plate that didn’t need this much attention. "Go away."

"No."

"At least I appreciate the consistency."

"You’re welcome."

I rolled my eyes and scrubbed harder. A few seconds passed.

Then I felt his fingers closing gently around my wrist.

I froze and almost dropped the plate. Not because it was forceful, quite the opposite. His grip was light and careful, warm, his thumb brushing once against my skin in a small, casual, comforting motion. Nothing dramatic. Nothing that should have meant anything at all.

But my body immediately became aware of it like he’d had flipped a switch or something and of the steady warmth radiating from where his hand rested.

And then...once again, at the worst possible moment, my brain tossed out a comparison I wasn’t ready for. Melanie’s hands from earlier that night, careful and hopeful.

The kiss.

The discomfort that crawled through me the moment our lips met. And now Damien, standing beside me at a sink full of dishes, doing nothing more complicated than holding my wrist and somehow making me feel steadier than anything else had all night.

That comparison hit hard enough to steal my breath for a second.

"I’ll let it go," he said quietly. "But you can trust me, Oliver."

For a moment, something inside me eased. Because he meant it...every word, sincerely, without any hidden agenda. He wasn’t prying. He wasn’t pushing for an answer he hadn’t earned. He just wanted me to know, clearly, that he was there for me.

Then he smiled, small and easy.

"We’re friends after all."

Friends.

That word landed like a physical thing. My heart dropped so fast it almost hurt, a sharp, unexpected plunge that had no place accompanying such a simple statement.

Friends.

Of course! What else would we be? Friends share meals, look out for each other during tough times, and don’t push past the boundaries that need respect.

Friends make sure you eat after a rough night.

Friends stay up late helping you finish assignments you’ve been putting off.

Friends let you take their blankets without a second thought, mostly.

Friends suddenly hug you from behind and gently stroke your skin.

Friends share beds during power outages, apparently, and every night since, without either of us formally agreeing to it.

Friends.

My chest tightened around something ugly and disappointed that twisted beneath my ribs uninvited.

I hated it, because it made no sense. Friends was exactly what we were. So why did hearing him say it suddenly feel like I was losing something?

Shit...

Slowly, I pulled my wrist back and crossed my arms, trying to keep my hands from doing something foolish, like reaching for his again or admitting any part of what had just stirred in my chest.

"I’d rather trust a raccoon with commitment issues," I said.

Damien blinked. "What the hell does that even mean?"

"It means exactly what it sounds like."

"It really doesn’t."

"The raccoon probably knows what it means."

"The raccoon," I shot back, with the conviction of someone defending a thesis, "isn’t the one giving relationship advice in a kitchen."

A laugh escaped him, finally, the real deal, no longer buried under tension, easing something in the air. Not gone, but hidden again, tucked back behind the familiar rhythm we’d created, which was probably for the best, because I didn’t have the energy to deal with it any other way right now.

Deep down, I was glad that he knew me well enough to know that I did trust him, a whole fucking lot infact. But was too emotionally construction to say it out loud.

Damien shook his head. "You’re impossible."

"That’s rich, coming from you."

"Finish the dishes."

"There it is, that’s "

"There what is?"

"The dictatorship, the tyranny. The complete disregard for my autonomy. That’s why I prefer the raccoon."

He snorted, then pointed toward the hallway with the dish towel he picked up to help dry. "Hurry up and get ready. So we can go to bed."

Those words shouldn’t have had an effect on me. Yet, somehow, they did, my traitorous heart immediately reacting to the very notion of bed, which had taken on an entirely different meaning over the past month and which I had no business reacting to right now, of all nights.

"What am I, a kid?" I pointed a soapy sponge at him with mock authority. "Don’t tell me what to do, leave."

Damien smirked and tilted his head. "So bossy."

"Leave."

Still chuckling softly, Damien finally headed down the hall toward the bedroom. A few moments later, I heard the door close, and the apartment quieted down, the TV murmuring on without an audience.

The moment I was alone, the mask slipped.

I sank into one of the kitchen chairs, and exhaustion hit me all at once, not the physical kind from hauling deliveries all afternoon, but a heavier, deeper exhaustion from carrying too much complexity through one evening.

Melanie, the kiss...the guilt, low and constant in my stomach. And underneath all of it, threaded through every part of the night, was Damien.

Always Damien.

My gaze drifted across the room to my desk, where my bag sat with its strap draped over the chair, the small hockey keychain catching the lamp light...the one we’d bought together at the souvenir stand, the one I still hadn’t taken off, the one that had been with me through every shift and hospital visit and every moment of this complicated month.

I stared at it for a long time.

"Just friends, huh?" I whispered to myself. 𝙛𝓻𝒆𝒆𝒘𝙚𝓫𝙣𝙤𝒗𝙚𝓵.𝙘𝙤𝙢

The word kept echoing, simple and safe. We could never be anything other than that. I didn’t even know if he swung that way...or if he even liked me if he did.

So why did it hurt to hear him say it?

This was why I hated getting too close to people, someone always ended up leaving, someone always got hurt in the end. And nine times out of ten, it was me.

•

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𝔞𝔲𝔱𝔥𝔬𝔯’𝔰 𝔯𝔞𝔪𝔟𝔩𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔰

hi there💕just popped in for a sec to clarify to those it wasn’t obvious to... that Oliver has anxious -avoidant attachment 🙂

don’t worry, Damien will help fix the psychological issue/ relationship pattern tho...

hopefully his actions are more understandable as it goes a bit deeper than him just being a tsundere