A New Normal

The days passed like a gentle breeze, smooth and comforting. Victor had returned to his mansion after their shared breakfast, but something had shifted. The usual tension that clung to his thoughts like a shadow was now replaced with a lightness he couldn't quite explain.

It wasn't that everything was suddenly perfect—far from it. But there was an undeniable sense of peace in knowing that Milo was back, and more importantly, that things between them were as they once were. Or, at least, that's what Victor told himself.

***

Over the following days, Victor found himself gravitating toward Milo more often.

Whenever he had free time at work, he would pass by Milo's studio under the pretense of checking on his progress. Sometimes, he'd lean against the doorframe and watch Milo sketch or adjust designs. Other times, he'd bring coffee and pastries, claiming they were "extras" from a nearby café.

"Victor," Milo teased one afternoon, glancing up from his drawing tablet. "If I didn't know any better, I'd think you're spoiling me."

Victor smirked, setting a cup of coffee on Milo's desk. "Don't get used to it. I just didn't want this to go to waste."

"Uh-huh," Milo replied, a knowing smile tugging at his lips. "Well, thanks anyway."

***

On weekends, it became a common occurrence for Victor to show up at Milo's apartment unannounced.

"Don't you have anything better to do?" Milo joked one Saturday, opening the door to find Victor standing there with a bag of takeout.

"Not really," Victor said with a casual shrug, walking in. "Figured you'd need a break from whatever it is you do in here all day."

Milo laughed, shaking his head. "You know, most people text before showing up."

"And miss the look on your face when you open the door? Never," Victor shot back, settling onto the couch like he belonged there.

***

Even Mr. Henry, Victor's father, seemed to notice the change.

During one of their family dinners, he invited Milo to join them as he often did. But this time, Victor appeared more enthusiastic about the invitation, even going out of his way to pick Milo up himself.

"Good to see you again, Milo," Mr. Henry said warmly as they sat at the table.

"Likewise, Mr. Henry," Milo replied, his tone respectful yet familiar.

Victor, seated beside Milo, seemed unusually relaxed. He laughed more, engaged in conversation effortlessly, and even went out of his way to make sure Milo's plate was always full.

Mr. Henry noticed the subtle shift and smiled quietly to himself.

***

But while the days were flowing well for Victor, Milo began to sense something different.

Victor's kindness wasn't new—it had always been there, buried under his composed exterior. But lately, it felt… amplified.

He noticed how Victor would linger in his studio just a little longer than necessary, how he would drop by his apartment even when he didn't have a reason to. How his eyes softened whenever they talked, and how his laughter came more easily in Milo's presence.

Milo didn't know what to make of it.

Is it just my imagination? he wondered late one night as he sat on his couch, staring at the ceiling. Or is something really changing between us?

He shook his head, trying to dismiss the thought. Victor was his friend—his best friend. That's all it was, and all it could ever be.

Meanwhile, Victor, oblivious to Milo's inner turmoil, was beginning to realize something himself.

One evening, as he stood on his balcony overlooking the city, his mind wandered to Milo. To the way his eyes lit up when he talked about his work, to the sound of his laughter echoing in the quiet moments, to the feeling of comfort Victor hadn't experienced with anyone else.

Why does he feel like home? Victor wondered, gripping the railing tightly.

The thought scared him. It wasn't something he was ready to face—not yet.

For now, he was content to keep things as they were. To be close to Milo, to share these moments, to hold onto the fragile balance they'd found.

But deep down, he knew that balance wouldn't last forever.