When the cab stops in front of his apartment building, Aloe comes stumbling out. He nearly topples over, but a pair of arms catch him. 

Aloe doesn’t even have to look up to know who this is. 

Without hesitation, Aloe wraps his arms around Basil’s torso, content to be held so close. But when he takes a deep breath, he notices something odd about his friend.

Since when did he use this perfume?

It feels like a strong assault against Aloe’s senses with its thick sweetness and floral notes. Basil always used light scents, and though he changes them every so often, they were never this strong.

“How much?” Basil asks as he struggles to keep Aloe steady.

Hearing Basil’s voice snaps him out of his train of thought. It’s grounding for him, so comforting in its familiarity yet still capable of shaking his heart. 

Truly, there’s only one man in this world Aloe could give his heart to, and he wishes he could make these feelings known for once.

The cab driver waves his hand. “Some guy  paid for it already.”

“Who—”

Basil’s question remains unheard as the cab just speeds off to his next customer. 

Turning to Aloe, he frowns. 

It makes Aloe want to ask about what’s making him so sad, but Basil doesn’t give him a chance to voice out this thought. Instead, he brushes a part of his hair to the side, his finger caressing a sore spot on his forehead.

“Did you hit your head here?”

“Mn,” is all Aloe says as he leans into the touch.

Basil retracts his hand and adjusts their position to better support Aloe. With one of Aloe’s arms slung around Basil’s shoulder, they stumble their way into the building. Fortunately, this building had an elevator that could take them up to the 5th floor. 

With a ding, the elevator door parts and makes way for them. Each step is a struggle for Aloe, and with every passing second, it’s harder for him to stay awake.

“Why were you even out so late? You don’t even like to drink,” Basil starts. Then, he tugs at the coat that covers his shoulder. “And whose coat even is this?”

Aloe just chuckles in response. Even he doesn’t quite know why he’d allowed himself to get like this. He doesn’t like overly sweet things, but it doesn’t mean that he likes bitter things, either. It’s why he doesn’t go anywhere near coffee.

But maybe in the deepest parts of his subconscious, he was trying to scrounge up the courage to finally talk to Basil again.

Because the mind is such a strange thing. Despite being a single entity, different regions don’t always line up with the wants of the conscious mind or the beating heart. 

“Basil, there’s something I really want to tell you,” Aloe says, his voice soft but still carrying the giddiness that the alcohol gave him.

Basil hums as if he were humoring a child. “And what is that?”

Aloe’s mind tries to string together something coherent for him to say. Because how could he ever sum up the years of built-up emotions and adoration into this single moment?

“You’re my most favorite person, you know?”

“Oh really?” Basil chuckles. “You, too, Aloe. You’re my most favorite person.”

Hearing this, his chest begins to well up with so many emotions—all bright and hazy, so dazzling and overwhelming. 

Basil fishes out Aloe’s key card from his pocket. When he raises it to the door’s lock, Aloe suddenly grabs his wrists and presses his forehead against his chest.

“I really love you, Basil.”

“I really, really love you.”