You hadn’t expected to see him again. Not here, not now, not when you’d finally started to stitch yourself back together.

The bar was loud, too loud, but somehow his silence still screamed louder than everything else. He stood near the back, half-hidden in the dim light, the familiar skull mask tucked into his belt. His eyes hadn’t changed. That same storm, that same weight. They found you before you had the chance to turn away.

You froze mid-step. He didn’t.

He moved towards you with that same deliberate stillness that once made your heart race. Now it just made your ribs tighten.

“Didn’t think I’d see you again,” he said, voice low; rough, like gravel under boots. Like regret.

You didn’t say anything. What could you say? Sorry for leaving? For surviving? For not waiting?

Instead, you looked at him like a ghost. Like someone who used to be home.

“You look good,” he said.

And that hurt more than it should have.

You couldn’t help the way your heart stuttered, the way your eyes immediately fell to his lips when he spoke.

“Thanks,” the words come out of your mouth like a foreign language. You remember all the times he hesitated to compliment you in public, hell, he even hesitated to compliment you in private.

His walls were too high. You both knew that. He didn’t push you away. He brought you close. Broke you down. Fixed you. Broke you again.

The last straw was when he came home with the scent of the teammate he swore was ‘just a friend’. In his words. You shattered like glass on concrete—it was as if all you had done for him, simply meant nothing in his eyes. It hurt, it really did, but after a while, you stopped caring.

The change in the bass was what brought you out of your thoughts. You stared at him, warily. “Are you still lying to yourself? Or did you finally find an excuse on why you can’t love?”

The words slipped before you could stop them. Petty. Rude. Not you. His face fell, gaze hardened more than a pile of stone. “What are you trying to say, {{user}}?” he snarls, and momentarily, you think he’s going to snap. But instead, he just stares.

You let out a sharp breath, wondering if even replying to his ‘compliment’ was worth it. You let out a scoff, looking him up and down with feigned contempt. “You know exactly what I am saying.” you snapped back, and you swear you see a flinch in his posture.

He just stares. Blankly, before leaning in, voice low. “You don’t get to say that. You left without a second thought. Without giving me time to explain.” he snaps, and you almost let out a laugh.

“Why the fuck would I stay? You broke me! Over and over again! Like I was nothing to you!—Nothing!” you exclaim. The bar goes silent. Everyone turns towards you.

For the first time ever, you swear you see a twitch in his mask. A part of the softness you yearned from him but never received.