Chapter Text
What is it like to love him and yet be unable to touch him? To watch him from a distance, tracing every curve visible to the eye, talking about things that do not matter while avoiding the one thing that does.
Or what is it like to kiss his swollen lips with desperate hunger, to let your tongue wander over his soft skin, pressing him into the bed with your heated body? To forget about the rest of the world with him, noticing nothing beyond the two of you, to become the closest person in his life and to think of him as your home—only to lose him day after day, while desperately convincing yourself that everything is fine.
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The sound of the wheels grew softer as the warm sunlight grew brighter, and soon the train emerged from the dark tunnel into a bright station, slowing smoothly as it approached the platform.
An indistinct voice announced the stop. The doors slid open with a rush, and a small group of people moved out toward the escalators.
A young dark-haired man in headphones stood up as well, but only to move closer to the doors.
From there, a captivating view opened up — the platform flooded with sunlight through windows still unwashed after the winter snow.
Even the busy city in the distance seemed unusually quiet today. Peaceful.
The doors closed, and the scene outside began to move again, but the young man couldn't look away from it — from that almost forgotten sight — catching the last rays of sun before the train disappeared back into the darkness of the tunnel.
Without meaning to, he thought that this day would be a good one.
But even on good days, bad things happen.
A beautiful woman in a light beige business suit, her neat bob perfectly styled, was driving her recently purchased white Audi along one of the busy city streets. On the passenger seat lay a stack of rolled-up blueprints held together with a wide band, with a few sheets peeking out, marked with her handwritten notes.
The dashboard lit up again with an incoming call.
She looked at it for just a second.
But that was enough.
A moment later, a truck appeared right in front of her. Too close.
She slammed on the brakes — but it was already too late.
A sharp crack — then a dull, heavy thud, as if from somewhere far away.
Theo is waiting for me at the office...
That was the last thought that crossed her mind.
The sound distorts. Sinks. Disappears.
And then — silence.
The air is knocked out of her lungs.
A sharp white light. A flash.
Theo.
All grown up.
He stands before her — tall, beautiful, with dark, slightly wavy hair falling carelessly over his forehead. His eyes are clear, attentive.
He looks at her.
Smiles. That same disarming smile.
The image trembles.
Light flares.
Too sharply.
There he is again — laughing, saying something, but the words slip away, indistinct.
Bright light. Strange faces. Movement. Flashes.
Everything blurs.
Warm light. A familiar hallway.
Her hand finds the key on its own.
A turn.
A click.
The door opens.
He's there.
Standing in the soft yellow light.
He looks at her with those serious, childlike eyes — and immediately wraps his arms around her.
Tight.
The image trembles again.
The light becomes harsh.
Everything slips away.
And suddenly, for a brief moment, everything is clear.
Theo. Very small.
He runs into the kitchen — thin, slight, in a coat far too big for him, given to them by a neighbor. His cheeks and nose flushed from the cold.
He walks up to her and holds out his small hand.
A slightly crumpled candy rests in his palm.
"This is for you, Mom," he said in a very serious voice.
Someone had given it to him outside, and he saved it.
She laughs and crouches down in front of him, accepting the precious gift. Then she pulls him into a tight embrace.
He smells of cold air, soap, and something endlessly familiar.
She holds him closer.
And closer.
As if she could keep him, if she just didn't let go.
It feels so warm.
So good.
One more moment.
And then everything fades again.
"Hello, Theo," he heard a familiar voice behind him as he tried to figure out the new coffee machine.
Theo turned and smiled.
A young man stood in front of him in a perfectly pressed white shirt. Crisp lines, buttoned cuffs — not a single unnecessary detail. His gaze was attentive, but slightly distant.
Mir stepped closer and pointed to one of the buttons.
"Double americano. That should do for a cup like that," he said evenly, giving Theo a brief, indifferent glance.
As always, focused and serious, as if little outside of work truly held his attention.
"Perfect timing," Theo said, brightening, and held out his hand.
Mir returned the handshake, firm and steady.
Theo always felt a certain awkwardness around him — not the kind that made him stumble over words, but something closer to quiet respect, touched with a hint of admiration.
They didn't see each other often. Sometimes Theo would stop by the office to visit his mother, and they would cross paths in the hallway or the kitchen. Their conversations usually stayed within safe, trivial territory — the weather, work, small talk.
"It's so sunny outside today," Theo said, gesturing toward the door.
"Is it? I didn't notice," Mir replied.
Because the brightest sun for him was the one standing right in front of him—within arm's reach, and yet impossibly far away.
The coffee machine finished with a soft click, and the screen lit up: ready. Theo took his cup, stepped aside, leaned against the wall, and took a careful sip.
It seemed like that was it — coffee poured, formalities done — but Mir didn't seem in a hurry to leave.
"Haven't seen you in a while," he said, casting another quick glance at Theo.
Theo always hid his slim figure in oversized hoodies, loose T-shirts, and wide sweatpants, choosing comfort above all else. But the photos in magazines left little to the imagination, making it easy to picture him without all that extra fabric.
Mir caught himself looking a moment too long and quickly looked away.
"How have you been?" he added, taking a step toward the coffee machine.
"I'm good," Theo shrugged. "Work's been a lot lately... though I guess I don't need to tell you that," he said with a faint smile. "You guys are always on deadlines here."
"That's true," Mir said with a small smirk. "Your mom probably has it worst of all."
"Yeah... I barely see her at home, and now I come here — and she's not here either," Theo said, spreading his hands slightly.
Mir paused for a moment.
"She left early this morning for a meeting with a client," he said. "Some urgent revisions on the project."
He poured himself a large cup of strong coffee and leaned against the counter beside Theo.
A new residential complex project was waiting for him at his desk — the deadline was already tight, and idle conversation hadn't been part of his plans for the day. Still, he allowed himself these few minutes.
"I think she should be back soon."
"She texted me about an hour ago — said she was on her way," Theo replied, glancing at the clock on the wall. "I'll wait a bit."
Mir followed his gaze without thinking.
Someone opened the door noisily, then closed it again almost immediately — probably changing their mind or realizing they had the wrong person.
Mir gave a faint smile, walked over to the cabinet, took out a carton of milk, and handed it to Theo, noticing how he had slightly winced after a sip of the strong coffee.
"If you want," he said casually.
"Exactly what I need," Theo said with a grin, pouring a generous amount of milk into his almost black coffee.
He took another sip and nodded, satisfied.
"So, how—" he began, about to ask Mir something.
But at that moment, his phone started ringing in the pocket of his jacket.
In the quiet of the small kitchen, the sound suddenly felt too loud, too sharp. Theo stared at the screen for a moment, trying to figure out who it could be — and whether he should answer.
Mir noticed the hesitation and gestured toward the door, indicating he was about to head back anyway.
Theo nodded and pressed the green button.
Mir was already at the door when he heard Theo's voice, suddenly tense:
"Yeah... it's my mom..."
For a few seconds, Theo listened in silence. With each passing moment, his expression tightened.
"Which hospital? I'll be there right now."
Something in Mir's chest tightened. He stopped and turned back.
Theo had gone pale, looking as if the ground had just disappeared beneath him.
For a few more seconds, he stared at the phone, as if trying to process what he had just heard.
The cup made a soft knock against the table. His hand trembled.
Theo looked around, disoriented, as if he had forgotten where he was.
"I should go..." he managed, his voice suddenly hoarse, and took a step toward the door.
Mir caught him by the sleeve.
"Theo, what happened?" he asked, concern breaking through.
Theo looked completely lost, his gaze unfocused.
"They said... she was in an accident..." he said, struggling with the words. "She's in intensive care..." he added, almost in a whisper.
"Come on, I'll drive you," Mir said immediately. "My car's downstairs."
Theo nodded, still dazed, and followed him.
They moved quickly through the hallway. Theo walked almost on autopilot. The familiar office suddenly felt foreign, as if he had never been there before.
Mir walked ahead, glancing back from time to time to make sure Theo was still behind him.
They went down the long corridor and took the stairs to the first floor. Their footsteps echoed dully in the empty stairwell.
Theo simply followed, letting Mir lead him, because right now he barely understood what was happening.