I’m fine.

That was what Aidan told Nikki when he finally left his mother’s office, pale-faced and dazed. I’m fine, he told one of their regulars when he wondered if he was getting enough sleep. I’m fine, he told Ben when he looked at him with worry after he couldn’t recall how many pounds of sugar they got with their weekly supplies, then again when he offered to stay for closing because ‘he wasn’t looking so well’.

I’m fine.

It was also all he could tell himself now, sitting alone in the dark cafe, illuminated by nothing but the orange glow coming from the streetlights outside.

I’m fine. Though, if he was, why couldn’t he bring himself to get up? Everyone was long gone – the servers, the baristas, the kitchen staff, Ben, even his mother. It was just him, left behind in the empty halls of his second home. Just how many more times will he get to see it before he’ll have to say goodbye for good?

The chance to think of that terrifyingly low number was, perhaps blissfully, interrupted by the rustling of the front door being opened. Aidan leaped to his feet, swallowing the lump in his throat. He was definitely fine, so much so that he completely forgot to lock it. 

“Sorry,” he stammered. “We’re-”

The words died on the tip of his tongue. The absolute last person he expected to see standing there, smiling sheepishly at him, was Chris. His suit had a few wrinkles in it, his tie slightly loosened and his hair ruffled as though he combed through it with his fingers over and over again. He closed the door behind him and gave him another apologetic look.

“You didn’t come back,” he took a careful step forward. “And you didn’t answer your phone. I was worried.”

“Oh.” Aidan blinked. “It’s… I think it’s silenced, sorry. I guess I didn’t notice.”

Chris took another step towards him and buried his hands in his pockets.

“Were you planning on spending the entire night here?”

“I…” he ran his tongue over his lips and averted his gaze. “No. I mean… I don’t… I wasn’t planning.”

Chris’ smile diminished as he took another step. His brow furrowed.

“Is everything okay?”

“I’m fine,” he recited his mantra. It was just that he lost his apartment and Ben, then Chris, and now he was about to lose the cafe as well.

“Aidan-”

“Really, I’m fine. You should go home, it’s getting late.”

Chris was now close enough that even in the dim light he could clearly see the way he clenched his jaw and pursed his lips.

“I can’t just go home,” he pushed his hand through his hair. Another step.

“I’m worried about you. I… didn’t think it’ll make you feel this way,” his gaze dropped. “I’m sorry. Maybe I shouldn’t have said anything, but I can’t just stop caring about you. Not when you’re like this. You’re still my friend Aidan, nothing is going to change that for me.”

Stupid Chris. Aidan had to take a deep, shaky inhale to not get drowned by the overwhelming wave of pain that crashed onto him. Trying to give him a reassuring smile felt like there were two dumbbells tied to the corners of his mouth

“I know. I just… needed some time. But I’ll be fine, I promise.”

Why did he have to care? Why did he have to be so nice, even now? Why did he have to feel that way in the first place?

And why did he have to keep getting closer?

The more space he eliminated between them, the harder it was to breathe, as if something was slowly sucking the oxygen out of the room. Aidan looked away, through the window, though he couldn’t see a single thing that lay outside it.

“I mean it, it’s not even… There are a few more things… the cafe… but it’s nothing.”

“What things?” Was he imagining or was Chris’ voice a little louder? He didn’t dare look. The air was growing thinner, his throat felt too tight.

“Nothing, it’s fine.”

“It doesn’t look like nothing.”

“Seriously, you don’t have to worry about it.”

“But I do.”

“Really, I said I’m fine.”

“Aidan.” The calm, quiet way he called his name somehow had so much warmth in it. Aidan couldn’t help but look. Chris was standing right in front of him, so close he could see the single black cat hair that stuck to the collar of his shirt and the soft shadow that began forming on his chin. He wasn’t sure what force it was that made him crane his neck to make for the few inches he needed to meet his eyes. “What’s wrong?”

He was standing on the thin surface of a frozen lake. For a moment, there was nothing but an eerie silence. Then, the ice shattered. The deafening crack sent Aidan tumbling into the frigid water, gasping for air and shaking violently. His eyes went blurry, filled with tears that quickly poured out of them and streamed down his face. He tried opening his mouth to speak but his words got swallowed by the broken, agonized sobs that nearly suffocated him.

“I… I… it’s… I can’t…”

Aidan wasn’t sure whether it was him who leaned in or Chris who pulled him closer. It didn’t matter. His hands grasped at him desperately, found purchase on his back like he was his only lifeline, and as a pair of arms wrapped around him the oxygen that flowed into his lungs again only made his wails grow louder.

Chris’ hold on him tightened. One of his hands glided up into his hair, his thumb trailing warm, steady strokes right behind his ear. Tens, maybe hundreds of them, he didn’t know. He couldn’t remember the last time he cried this much, this hard, and with so little control. All the while Chris didn’t let go. He made no attempt at comforting words or empty promises, didn’t try to coax him to speak or figure out what was wrong. He simply was, and allowed him to be too. Eventually, his bawling turned into soft whimpers and the uncontrollable tremors into a slight unsteadiness. They fell into a still silence again, one which Aidan was the first to break.

“I’m still mad at you,” he sniffled against the warmth he couldn’t bring himself to pull away from. 

“I know.”

“I want to move out, but I can’t.”

“I know.”

“...I’m ruining your suit.”

Chris chuckled. “I’ll send you the drycleaners' bill.”

Although he couldn’t see, Aidan could tell he was smiling at him in that kind way that made guilt weight down his shoulders now that he knew. There was another moment of quiet before he let out a shaky sigh.

“We’re going to lose it,” he whispered. “The cafe. And I can’t fix it. I don’t know what to do.”

“Well… whatever it is, I’m sure there’s a way to solve this,” his reply was careful, yet reassured. “A Solution. We can figure it out.”

“I tried.” Just admitting it made his voice grow thick again and his eyes to sting. “I don’t know how.”

A surge of panic rushed through him when he felt Chris pull away. Without thinking, his fingers clutched tighter onto the fabric of his blazer, though apparently he only did so in order to cup his face and tilt it up to him. Aidan blinked the remnants of his tears away as something that had nothing to do with them jumped into his throat. Chris’ hand lingered on his cheek for a moment before dropping to his shoulder. 

“I know,” he offered him a soft smile. “But that doesn’t mean there isn’t a way. We might just need a little more time to think about it… and maybe dinner and some more comfortable clothes?”

Aidan swallowed and averted his gaze. Wasn’t he freezing just a moment ago? He chewed on his bottom lip for a long moment before letting out a long, quiet sigh and nodding gingerly. The tentative smile Chris looked at him with widened.

“Come on then.” This time he did take a step back, though one of his hands didn’t slide off him entirely. Instead it lightly wrapped around his, where he gave a short squeeze. The fluttering in his chest, what must have been an echo of his earlier panic, wasn’t as bad as before. At the very least he didn’t mind it as much. “Let’s go home.”