Keys, then the car. He'd grab the first, jump into the second, and drive around the streets. Max had to be somewhere. Lost. Cold. In the past few days, the temperature hadn't risen by one degree; no one could make it through the night outside.

The fluorescent light buzzed in the hallway. The sunlight was gone, and the only thing Collin could think of was that searching for someone in the dark would be that much harder.

The saliva in his mouth thickened, and he could feel his lunch climbing back up. He swallowed, trying to keep everything down. He hadn't expected this level of anxiety over a lost… friend?

As he pressed the handle, the door gave in. In his panic, he must have forgotten to lock it. With the back of his hand, he wiped a moist trail from his cheek and stepped inside.

His heart skipped a beat.

There he was. Sitting on the couch, back turned to the door. As if he had never left at all.

Collin watched as if in slow motion as Max turned his head, big brown eyes meeting his, lips curving in a genuine smile. Like he had no idea what turmoil he'd caused.

The stone that settled in Collin's stomach, turning everything inside into bile, dropped away, and he felt light again. Ignoring the wet footsteps of melting snow he left behind, he rushed to Max and wrapped his hands around him as tightly as he could. He inhaled the scent of his own shampoo that lingered in Max's hair. Soothing lavender.

"Oh my god, where were you?" he asked. "I was so worried about you. You can't just leave without telling me!"

The voice that started on a note of pure relief, quickly turned into a scolding one.

"I'm sorry." Max wrapped his arm around Collin's waist. "I just went to the store."

"What? Why?"

Max glanced past him, so Collin turned, following his gaze.

His yellow vase, the same one he'd thrown away just yesterday, sat in the middle of the coffee table. One third of it was pieced together, thin golden lines running between the broken fragments. The rest of the shards were spread across the table, seemingly organized in some way.

"I broke it, and it seemed important to you, so I thought I should put it back together," Max explained. "The guy at the store told me about something called Kintsugi. Said it's some art form where you put a broken piece together with gold, and it's supposed to look nice but... I don't know if I'm doing it right."

A small smile relaxed Collin's expression, and warmth spread through his chest.

"Looks good so far," he said. "Do you have all the pieces?"

"All that were in the trash."

Collin leaned back, letting out a deep breath as the last of the tension drained from his body. He unzipped his jacket, and got up to hang it away. He kicked off his shoes and wiped the floor. Then he made himself some tea.

With a steaming cup in hand, he joined Max at the couch, pulling his legs up, watching him work, mesmerized.

The usually chaotic persona, buckets full of energy, was now laser-focused. Max looked so serious as he picked up each piece, turning it carefully to see where it fit. Usually correct, he applied the glue with surprising precision before pressing the fragments together. He moved through the process so smoothly, it almost seemed like he'd done it before.

Soon enough the vase stood tall, entirely repaired, though still drying. Golden lines spread across its surface like veins, and Collin had to admit that the store clerk had been right—it was beautiful. He wondered what his mother would think. She'd probably like it. Maybe even find it endearing that instead of throwing it away, they'd chosen to fix it. Points for Max. Though likely not enough to make up for not being a doctor or a lawyer.

"What do you think?" Max asked, looking at him, ears flattened in uncertainty.

A soft smile arched Collin's lips, and he sunk his palm into Max's hair, only to ruffle them.

"I love it," he said. "Thank you."

The uncertainty disappeared, replaced by a proud grin, so pure it was almost blinding. Max leaned into him, resting his head on Collin's shoulder. Collin rubbed his back.

"I think you deserve something nice to eat now," he said. "What do you think?"

Max perked up. "Yes!"

"You know, I'm surprised you haven't said anything yet. Did you buy something to eat while you were out?"

"No," Max answered. "You didn't have that much cash laying around."

Collin huffed a quiet laugh.

He reheated their dinner, and soon they were back on the couch, bowls of Chinese food in hand, sitting close like two broken pieces glued together. Watching the vase dry.