Neon Lights

24

Callisto stood there, staring at him. The words that he had uttered burned into his mind, making a place in his head. There had been only a few times from moments that he had known Draven that resulted the man to apologise. But they had never been directed at him — for him before. Shifting his weight from one foot to the other, he briefly considered fleeing.

The door to his run-down apartment building was just a few steps away.

But those eyes kept his feet glued to the ground.

"You're apologising?" Callisto said after what felt like an eternity of silence.

His tone must've came across as confused as he was feeling right now because Draven only raised his eyebrows at that. After a second, he replied, "Yes?"

"Why?"

"Because—" Draven didn't finish his sentence. The word hung in the air before they disappeared, melting into the cold night. "Just because. You were upset. Are upset."

Almost immediately, Callisto said, "And since when me being upset bothered you?"

Draven stood straighter then. It was wired in him to take a step back when the other man tried towering him. It was in these moments he had to remind himself that Draven wasn't that boy from five years ago — he was someone else who lurked in the shadows.

And that was scary.

"It has always bothered me." Draven's words were uttered with such confidence that they once again burned into his mind. Callisto's eyes widened and his cheeks warmed. Even when he was being constantly washed over by the cold night, the warmth that suddenly surged through him with his heart racing against his chest made him sweat a little. Something must've shown on his face because Draven rolled his eyes, looking away briefly and said, "Figures you don't believe me."

They were bitter — the words.

But Callisto couldn't find anything about them to retort. Because that was the truth, he didn't believe him.

"You never apologise," Callisto said, frowning. Ignoring the flutter in his stomach and the squeezing of his chest, he continued with, "So why start now?"

"I do apologise." Draven looked at him in the eyes. "When have I not apologised?"

Was he serious?

"When we were..." Callisto's words died in his mouth. No. He wasn't going there. That was a past he had left behind five years ago and this wasn't a moment to drag them back out to light. Instead, he narrowed his eyes at Draven, hoping to communicate the flare of irritation brewing in him. "Just so you know, you never apologised before."

"And I'm telling you I did." The other man took a step toward him, lessening the distance between them. "When have I never apologised?"

Callisto wasn't going to play this game.

The look on the other man's face was familiar. Even under these shitty streetlights, he recognised the furrowed eyebrows and the purse of his bottom lip — that pouty displeased look that meant he wasn't going to let this argument go. There had been times when they would keep up with silly fights for days because like hell Callisto was going to apologise for something he didn't do. And while it had once been a source of affection for him whenever Draven looked like that, he couldn't help but to wince now five years later at how unhealthy it had been.

Fighting all the time like that over the stupidest things and not willing to apologise — they exhausted him slowly.

"Whatever," Callisto muttered under his breath. "I don't know why you came here to say that. Could've sent a text or whatever."