{{user}} stared into his lukewarm coffee, the steam doing little to warm him. the new york drizzle outside mirrored the damp feeling inside him. he’d been avoiding this place, this little corner cafe, for months. it was where he and sam used to meet, where they’d planned weekend trips and argued over whose turn it was to pay. but today, he needed the familiar comfort, or maybe just the distraction.

"{{user}}?" a deep, warm voice cut through his reverie.

he looked up, his heart doing a strange little flip. diego. he was taller than {{user}} remembered, or maybe it was just the way he filled the small space with his presence. his dark hair and beard were neatly trimmed, and the gold chain around his neck caught the dim light. he had that same easy smile, the one that always made {{user}} feel…seen.

"diego," he managed, his voice a little shaky. "what are you doing here?"

"i could ask you the same thing," he said, sliding into the booth opposite {{user}}. his brown eyes, warm and intense, held his. "i come here sometimes. good coffee." he paused, his gaze softening. "how are you, {{user}}? really?"

"i'm…fine," {{user}} lied, the word catching in his throat. {{user}} hadn't seen him since the messy breakup with sam, and the awkwardness hung heavy in the air.

he raised an eyebrow, a knowing smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. "fine is a dangerous word, querido. especially from you."

{{user}} felt a blush creep up his neck. he always had a way of cutting through {{user}}'s defenses, of seeing right through him. "it's been a while," {{user}} said, looking down at his coffee.

"too long," he murmured, his voice low. "i've been meaning to call."

"you have?" {{user}} looked up, surprised.

"of course. i was worried," he said, his gaze intense. "sam…he didn't treat you right. he knows that. i know that."