The clash was inevitable. It had always been.

The stone alleyway wrapped around them like a cage—narrow, damp, and unforgiving. Cracked bricks jutted from the walls, slick with moss and old rain. The ground beneath their boots was uneven, littered with gravel and broken glass. A rusted pipe overhead dripped steadily, each drop echoing like a countdown.

Indigo moved first, lunging forward with unrestrained fury. His fist met Amethyst’s guard, knuckles pressing hard against his forearm, forcing him back a step. The impact rang out, sharp and final, swallowed by the alley’s silence.

“Finally striking me, are you?” Amethyst’s voice was filled with mocking amusement, but Indigo could see the tension behind his eyes—the way he braced, the way he anticipated. His smirk was a shield, but his body told the truth.

“You pushed too far,” Indigo spat, not waiting for Amethyst to recover before swinging again. Faster. Sharper. He wasn’t holding back.

The air between them was hot—charged with something neither could name, something neither wanted to name. It wasn’t just anger. It was history. Hurt. The kind that lived in the marrow.

Amethyst caught Indigo’s wrist, twisting it just enough to throw him off balance. Indigo’s boot scraped against the cobblestones, a sharp skid of friction and fury.

Indigo barely stumbled before twisting back. Their bodies were impossibly close.

Their breaths came out in small puffs as the day grew colder. Red and gold eyes staring into each other, clashing with every blink.

Their faces hovered just inches apart, the air between them thick with anticipation. Neither made a move to break it.

Until Indigo shoved Amethyst back, sending him skidding against the stone pavement before he steadied himself, gold eyes flashing with something deeper than irritation.

It wasn’t just rage between them. It was something worse—something that clawed at Indigo’s chest and made his thoughts spiral even as his hands curled into fists. He hated this. He hated him.

And yet—

He wanted Amethyst to keep looking at him this way.

Wanted him to smirk through bloodied lips. Wanted him to strike back.

The moment stretched, breath ragged between them.

Amethyst wiped the corner of his mouth, a trickle of red smeared against his pale skin. He wasn’t laughing anymore.

"That's all you've got?"

Indigo’s glare was sharp enough to cut. His heart was pounding too hard.

"Not even close."

And just like that, they collided again—pain and want tangled together, as impossible to separate as the force of their blows.

Each strike was fueled by frustration, by resentment, by something deeper neither wanted to name.  

Indigo, shoved Amethyst hard against the wall, fists clenched, breath ragged. His face was close, too close, but he didn't care. The fury was sharp in his voice.  

“You are a disappointment. Whenever I think you’ve changed, you go and be a jerk again. Figure yourself the fuck out."

Amethyst barely heard anything past the pounding of his heartbeat. His chest heaved, trying to steady his breath, but the words—Indigo’s words—hit harder than any punch.

Something twisted deep inside him, something that made him want to scoff, to deflect, to act like this didn’t matter. But it did. It mattered too much.

Indigo was right.  

Every time Amethyst got close—every time something felt different, real—he ruined it. Lashing out, pushing Indigo away, pretending this pull between them was just rivalry.

“You don’t get it, "he muttered, voice lower now, not as sharp, not as cruel—but defeated in a way he hated.

Indigo huffed, his anger still burning bright. “Then make me understand."

Amethyst wished—for one brief, impossible second—that he could.  

But instead, he turned his head, avoiding Indigo’s gaze.  

He always did.  

“Indigo, you didn’t approach me for no reason. What do you want?” His voice was cold, digging into Indigo’s heart with every word.

“Well, we were looking for your dad first, but I caught your scent.”

Indigo backed away and sighed, “We need your help- some kind of save the world mission, I guess.”

“No.” Amethyst didn’t hesitate. His shield was back up, forcing Indigo away as it always did.

“No? Why-“ Indigo was cut off. 

“I’m not good! I can’t just switch up and follow some shitty destiny that’s not mine! I’m a monster! I drink the life out of people! I can’t join you. I’m not worthy of it.” Amethyst turned away.

“Amethyst, please—we need you—” Indigo’s voice wasn’t commanding anymore. It was frayed at the edges, stripped of bravado. He reached out, grabbing Amethyst’s arm—not to hold him back, but to hold him together.

His eyes were wide, not with fear of failure, but fear of losing him. Of watching someone he trusted slip away into silence and self-doubt.

“Cut the crap, Indigo. You're strong enough as you are. I’d just be dead weight. I’m happy sitting in the shadows.” His golden eyes were no longer shining. They had grown dull, sad. 

“You’re stronger than you think. I wouldn’t ask if I didn’t believe that.”  Indigo caught Amethyst’s arm, eyes locked with his

Amethyst smacked his arm away. “You always plead for others. You should start being your person, Indigo. Stop being such a suck up. Now leave me alone. And don’t even think about following me. Goodbye.” He pulled his hood up and walked away, disappearing instantly.

Indigo clenched his fists and then punched the wall. “Fuck!” He ran a hand through his hair, then looked up at the sky and sighed. He walked out of the alleyway and went to find animal blood, along with some other things.