Unspoken Confession*

The dinner table was quiet, far too quiet for Victor's liking. The clinking of utensils against plates was the only sound between them, echoing in the stillness of Milo's apartment. The air was heavy with words left unsaid, thoughts unspoken. Victor wanted to bridge the gap between them, but every time he opened his mouth, he found himself hesitating.

Milo, on the other hand, focused on his plate, his usual bright demeanor replaced by a guarded calm. Once they finished eating, Milo wordlessly gathered the dishes and walked to the kitchen. Victor watched him from the table, his chest tightening.

Why does this feel so distant, so unlike us?

After finishing the dishes, Milo dried his hands and returned to the living room. "It's already late," he said softly, avoiding Victor's eyes. "You can stay here tonight. The couch isn't very comfortable, but I'll take it. You can sleep in my bed."

Victor stood up, his frustration bubbling to the surface. "Milo," he said, his voice firm. "You still haven't answered my question."

Milo sighed, turning to face him. His face softened, and he gestured toward the bed. "Sit," he said, patting the space beside him.

Victor hesitated before sitting down. The couch sank slightly under their weight, the closeness between them stirring something inside him.

Milo took a deep breath. "Victor, you didn't do anything wrong," he said, his tone calm but tinged with an unspoken emotion.

"Then why?" Victor's voice cracked. "Why didn't you text me back? Why didn't you call? Do you know how much I—" He stopped himself, shaking his head. "Never mind. Just tell me."

Milo offered a small smile, one that didn't quite reach his eyes. "Where I was, the network was bad. I couldn't get a good signal most of the time. And I was busy with my cousin's wedding. There was so much going on, I barely had time for anything else. I'm sorry I didn't tell you."

Victor stared at him, the weight on his chest lifting slightly. The explanation made sense, and yet... a part of him wasn't entirely convinced. Still, he nodded, his voice soft. "So... we're good now? Like before? No more distance?"

Milo nodded, his smile more genuine this time. "Yeah, no more distance. We're friends, Victor. Always."

Hearing those words, Victor couldn't help but smile. For the first time in days, he felt a glimmer of relief. But as the smile spread across his face, it faltered.

There was something he still needed to know.

Victor opened his mouth to ask but stopped himself. Should I really bring it up now? he thought. What if it ruins this moment?

Instead, he pressed his lips together and shook his head. "Never mind," he said quietly.

Milo noticed the shift but didn't press him. Instead, he stood and stretched. "You take the bed. I'll grab a blanket and sleep on the couch."

"No," Victor said quickly, grabbing Milo's wrist before he could walk away. "Why can't we just share the bed? We're both men, and we're friends. It's not a big deal."

Milo blinked at him, then chuckled. "If you're okay with it, sure. But don't complain if I take up too much space."

Victor grinned. "I won't."

They settled into bed, each taking a side. The room fell into a comfortable silence, the tension from earlier slowly dissolving.

***

Hours later, the apartment was quiet, save for the faint sound of the city outside. Milo lay on his back, staring at the ceiling. He couldn't sleep. His mind was a storm of emotions, thoughts swirling endlessly.

He turned his head to glance at Victor, who was sound asleep beside him. Victor's face was calm, his breathing steady. The moonlight streaming through the window highlighted his sharp jawline, the curve of his lips, the delicate fringe of his long eyelashes.

Milo's heart ached.

Without thinking, he shifted closer, his face just inches away from Victor's. He could feel the warmth radiating off him, and for a moment, he allowed himself to linger in the moment.

He whispered softly, his voice barely audible, "Will you still look at me like this if I say I love you?"

Victor stirred slightly but didn't wake.

Milo swallowed hard, his heart pounding. "I'm sorry for avoiding you," he continued, his voice shaking. "I thought it was just attraction at first, just a phase because... I'm gay. But even when I tried to stay away, it didn't make a difference. You're in my head, Victor. And it's hard. So hard."

He reached out but stopped himself, his hand hovering in the air before retreating.

"I wish you'd be happy," he whispered, his voice breaking slightly. "With someone you love. Even if it's not me."

With that, Milo turned onto his back, staring at the ceiling again. He closed his eyes, willing himself to push the emotions down.

But as he drifted off to sleep, one thought remained: How long can I keep this up?

...