Sasha did not cave first.

At least, not right away.

He stood by the fridge like a glitter-coated thundercloud, arms crossed tight, lips scrunched into a tiny stormy pout. His cheeks were puffed, and he didn’t blink much — like if he stayed very still, maybe he’d turn invisible and Dominic would feel extra bad. His crop hoodie rode up a little when he shifted, and his fuzzy socks had one toe bunched up funny — and it was bugging him, but he didn’t move.

Dominic leaned against the opposite counter, arms folded too, his dark eyes watching. Calm. Patient. But Sasha didn’t want patience. He wanted the truth. And maybe… a hug. But not yet.

Minutes ticked.

Silence buzzed.

From the hallway, Brie and Harper peeked in. Harper raised her brow. Brie groaned.

Brie clapped her hands. “Okay, enough. Little marshmallow. Couch. Now.”

Sasha gasped like someone told him Santa wasn’t real. “Why me?!”

Harper grinned. “You’re the one wedged behind the fridge like a baby hedgehog.”

Sasha squeaked as Brie took his hand and gently tugged. “You two are gonna talk,” she said. “Or at least stop radiating drama in my kitchen like cursed raccoons.”

Harper called behind them, “Twenty-two minutes ‘til the next episode ends. That’s your time limit!”

They plopped Sasha on the couch. Dominic came after, slow like a tired cat. He sat. Sasha instantly scooted to the far edge and turned his back to him in a Very Official Rejection.

Silence. Again.

Then Dominic spoke, low.

“You’re mad at me.”

“No,” Sasha snapped. “I’m very mad at you.”

“…That different?”

“Yes! One’s just mad. Very mad is like... when your feelings get cold and hot at the same time.”

Dominic tilted his head slightly. “You think I lied.”

“You did lie.”

“I didn’t lie,” Dominic said gently. “I broke a promise. That’s different.”

Sasha’s brows scrunched. He hated that he got caught off guard by that.

But his pout came right back. “Still felt bad.”

Dominic’s voice softened. “I know.”

That made Sasha pause.

Because Dominic wasn’t being scary or angry or blank. He was being... quiet. And that kind of quiet made Sasha brave enough to talk.

He hugged the heart pillow tighter and drew in a shaky breath.

“Lesson one,” he said in a small voice, “is that I didn’t need a big thing. I just needed you. I wasn’t mad you didn’t come. I was mad you didn’t tell me. I waited. I sat there all dressed and I made a playlist and special pink cupcakes with little sugar hearts — you don't like it, but I knew I could get you to eat some. And I sat. And I sat. And you didn’t come. Not even a ‘hey I can’t come.’ Not even an emoji.”

Dominic’s jaw twitched. His brows tugged inward, but he said nothing.

Sasha sniffed. Not crying. Just recalibrating.

“Lesson two,” he continued, voice rising, “is that you don’t get to decide when things hurt me or not! You don’t get to come the next day and say sorry like it erases the weird empty feeling in my chest. I don’t bounce like slime. I sink, Dom. And I stayed sunk for hours ‘cause I thought maybe you forgot me. Or didn’t like me anymore. And my brain kept making up bad reasons ‘cause I had nothing else to go on.”

His hands squished the pillow tightly. Fingertips white.

Dominic stayed still.

“Lesson three,” Sasha said more quietly, “is that I like you. A lot. Like… heart-squish like. Like I tell my plushies about you at bedtime and I use the nice stickers when I bake for you. I count the hours, the minutes, the seconds. I put it in my planner with sparkly gel pen. And when you don’t show, and you don’t explain, it makes me feel like maybe I’m just a… a break-in-your-day. Like a little side thing. Like you can just forget me and I’ll be there when you remember again.”

He rubbed at his cheek with the sleeve of his hoodie.

“I’m not a bookmark. You can’t just put me down and think I’ll stay on the same page.”

Dominic opened his mouth, but Sasha beat him to it with a small, firm hand raised.

“Lesson four,” he said, voice steady now — still babyish, still soft — but full of steel, “is that I would’ve understood. If you had told me you were tired or overwhelmed or sad or whatever, I would've said ‘okay’ and maybe sent you memes. I always understand. But you didn’t let me. You didn’t even think I needed to know. Like I’m some squishy little thing who doesn’t get stuff. But I do get stuff. I feel stuff hard. And it really… really hurt.”

He exhaled.

Then in the tiniest voice:

“I wore bows. For you.”

Dominic’s eyes flickered. His throat bobbed.

Sasha went quiet. His arms still hugged the heart pillow, but his cheeks were wet, and his lashes trembled. Still, he wasn’t wailing. He wasn’t collapsing. His voice held.

Dominic sat there in silence, then finally leaned back into the couch, his voice steady — low, but stripped of anything fake.

“I hear you,” he said. “All of it.”

Sasha didn’t look at him.

Dominic’s voice was cold — maybe too cold — but honest, direct.

“I was wrong,” he said again. “I don’t have an excuse. I just... made a selfish choice. And I hurt you.”

There was a beat.

“I’m sorry.” His tone didn’t tremble. It didn’t even rise. But the way he said it—quiet, raw, and unflinching—cut through the room like glass.

Sasha sniffled but didn’t speak.

Dominic added, softly, “That might sound cold. But I mean it.”

Sasha’s lip trembled again. He didn’t cave. Not fully.

Instead, he turned his head, slightly — just enough to whisper: 

“You still got a long way to go.”

That’s all.

No forgiveness. Not yet.

But Dominic took it. And for a moment, they sat in the quiet, breathing in the stillness between them.

From the kitchen, Harper whispered, “Wait—did… did they actually talk?”

Brie hissed, “Shut up! You’ll ruin it!”

And on the couch, Sasha — still hugging the pillow — slowly tilted his head until it barely rested against Dominic’s shoulder. Just a little.

“You’re still mean.”

Dominic leaned back, his voice barely above a whisper.

“I know. I’ve always been that way.”

Sasha curled tighter around the pillow, only his eyes peeking over the top now.

“You’re lucky your arms are nice,” he mumbled. “And your face looks all sad puppy. Or I’d chuck you out with the potato peels.”

A soft laugh escaped Dominic.

But he knew the air wasn't clear, not fully but okay.