Side Story (1) - Chapter 4
Fayne walked through the entrance of the winter market, the air filled with the mingling scents of spiced cider, roasted chestnuts, and freshly baked pastries. Lights twinkled from the stalls, casting a warm glow that contrasted with the crisp chill of the evening. She wrapped her scarf a little tighter around her neck, letting the festive atmosphere soak in, but her mind remained focused on the upcoming conversation.
She spotted Milo near a stall selling handcrafted ornaments, his breath forming small puffs in the cold air. He was staring at the intricate carvings on a wooden figure, hands buried in the pockets of his jacket. He seemed lost in thought, his shoulders slightly hunched against the cold.
Fayne hesitated for a moment, watching him from a distance. The festive lights seemed to soften the sharp edges of their last conversation, but the tension from before still lingered in her chest. She took a deep breath, then made her way toward him, crunching through the light dusting of snow beneath her boots.
Milo looked up as she approached, a guarded expression crossing his face before he managed a small, awkward smile. "Hey," he said, his voice barely carrying over the hum of the marketplace.
"Hey," Fayne replied, returning his smile with one of her own, though it felt tentative. She glanced around at the busy stalls, couples holding hands, families laughing as they browsed the decorations. It was a stark contrast to the uncertainty that clung to the space between them.
They stood there for a moment, letting the festive sounds and laughter of the market fill the silence between them. Fayne shifted her weight, feeling the crunch of the frost beneath her boots, and finally gestured to a nearby stall selling steaming cups of hot chocolate.
"Want to grab a drink? My treat," she offered, trying to keep her tone light, even as her heart beat a little faster with the uncertainty of his response.
Milo hesitated, then nodded. "Yeah, sure." He fell into step beside her, their footsteps blending into the noise of the bustling market. As they waited in line, Fayne stole a glance at him, noticing how he seemed more closed off than before, his gaze fixed on the ground or the passing crowds rather than on her.
They each took a cup of hot chocolate, steam swirling in the cold air as they left the stall. Fayne took a tentative sip, the warmth spreading through her hands and down her throat, a welcome contrast to the chill in the air. She watched Milo do the same, his breath mingling with the steam, and decided to break the silence again.
"I used to love coming to places like this when we were kids," she said, glancing around at the cheerful lights and decorations. "Remember how we'd always end up playing hide and seek between the stalls?"
Milo's expression softened slightly, a hint of a smile playing at the corners of his lips. "Yeah, I remember. I was terrible at hiding, though. You'd always find me first."
Fayne laughed, a sound that felt both strange and comforting amidst the tension. "That's because you always picked the same spot. Behind the big tree at the edge of the market."
Milo chuckled softly, a real laugh this time, but it faded quickly, leaving a lingering wistfulness in his eyes. "I guess I've always had a hard time breaking out of old habits."
The lightness of the moment gave way to a deeper undercurrent, the unspoken thoughts between them settling like a thin layer of frost over their tentative connection. They found a nearby bench, its wooden surface dusted with snow, and sat down, the cold biting through their coats. For a while, they sipped their hot chocolate in silence, watching the world pass by.
After a moment, Milo spoke up, his voice quiet, almost drowned out by the distant laughter of children and the holiday music playing from the stalls. "You know, Fayne, sometimes I wonder if things can really go back to how they were. If we can just... pick up the pieces and try again."
Fayne's fingers tightened around her cup, the warmth seeping through her gloves. She took a breath, the cold air stinging her lungs. "I think about that too. A lot, actually. I don't know if we can go back, but... I don't want to lose what we had. I want to try."
Milo stared down at his drink, his expression shadowed. "It's just... I don't want to end up back where I was before. Waiting on the sidelines, hoping things will change but never really believing they will."
His words hit her like a sharp gust of wind, and she felt the weight of the truth behind them. "I don't want that either, Milo. I know I've made mistakes, and I know I hurt you, but... I'm trying to be better. To really see you this time, not just when I need something."
He glanced at her, the guarded look in his eyes softening for just a moment. "I appreciate that, Fayne. But it's going to take time. It's not just about apologies—it's about showing up, even when it's hard. Even when it's uncomfortable."
Fayne nodded, letting his words sink in. "I know. And I'm willing to put in that time if you are."
Milo was quiet for a moment, then he looked up at the lights strung between the stalls, their glow reflecting in his hazel eyes. "I guess we'll see how it goes," he said finally, his voice carrying a touch of hope that hadn't been there before.
They fell into a more comfortable silence, the distant sounds of the market filling the space between them. It wasn't a resolution, but as they sat together, surrounded by the warmth and chaos of the winter market, it felt like a step in the right direction. And for now, that was enough.
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As they sat on the bench, the cold air wrapping around them, Fayne took another sip of her hot chocolate, letting the warmth settle in her chest. She glanced sideways at Milo, who was staring off into the distance, his breath forming small clouds in the frigid air. The festive lights reflected in his glasses, casting a soft glow over his face that made him seem almost distant, lost in thoughts she couldn't reach.
She decided to try again, hoping to bring some of that distance back to something closer, more familiar. "Do you ever think about... what you want to do next? Outside of League, I mean?" she asked, her voice tentative. "Like, what you'd do if things were different?"
Milo didn't respond right away, and for a moment, she wondered if she'd pushed too far. But then he shifted, his hands tightening around his cup as he considered her question. "I don't know," he admitted quietly. "I've spent so much time focusing on the game, on coaching, that I haven't really thought about much else. It's just... easy to get lost in it, you know?"
Fayne nodded, understanding all too well. "Yeah, I get that. It's like... everything else fades away when you're in the game, like nothing else matters except that moment. But then, when it's over, you realize how much you've missed out on."
Milo's gaze flickered toward her, and for the first time, there was a hint of vulnerability in his eyes. "Do you regret it? Getting so caught up in it all?"
The question hung in the air between them, mingling with the distant hum of the market and the cheerful music drifting through the cold. Fayne thought about the tournaments, the late-night strategy sessions, the rush of adrenaline from every high-stakes match. But she also thought about the nights she'd spent alone, wondering where her friendships had gone, how she'd let things fall apart without realizing it.
"Sometimes," she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. "But I think... what I regret the most is losing sight of the people I cared about. Like you, Milo."
Milo looked away, his expression shadowed, but she caught the faint tremor in his breath as he exhaled slowly. He stared down at his hands, watching the steam curl from his cup, as if trying to gather his thoughts. "You know, Fayne... I used to think that maybe, if I tried hard enough, I could be important to you in the way that Raxian was. That maybe you'd see me the same way you saw him."
Fayne's breath caught in her throat, the words hitting her harder than she'd expected. She opened her mouth to respond, but no words came out. Milo's voice was so quiet, so raw, like he was finally letting her see the parts of him he'd kept hidden for so long.
"I guess that's why it hurt so much when you didn't," he continued, his tone softening, as if admitting it to himself for the first time. "Because I thought... I thought we had something that could matter. But maybe I was just fooling myself."
The ache in Fayne's chest deepened, and she found herself reaching out, her hand resting lightly on his arm. "Milo, you do matter to me. More than you realize. I'm sorry I made you feel like you didn't." Her voice cracked, carrying all the regret she had been holding back. "I never meant to make you feel like you were second to anyone. I just... I didn't know how to balance everything. And I was scared of losing Raxian, but I didn't realize that I was losing you too."
Milo's shoulders slumped, and for a moment, he just stared at her hand on his arm, his expression a mixture of longing and hesitation. Then he let out a shaky breath, the tension leaving his body like air escaping a balloon. "It's not all on you, Fayne. I should've said something sooner. Maybe we wouldn't have ended up here if I had."
Fayne gave a small, bittersweet smile, feeling a flicker of hope amidst the sadness. "Maybe. But... we're here now. And I want to make things better. If you'll let me."
Milo finally met her gaze, and this time, there was a softness in his eyes that hadn't been there before—a glimmer of the friendship they once shared. He offered her a faint, tentative smile, as if testing the waters. "One step at a time, right?"
Fayne nodded, a small smile forming on her own lips. "Yeah. One step at a time."
They sat together on the bench, letting the sounds of the winter market fill the space between them. It wasn't a perfect moment—there were still too many words left unspoken, too many wounds that hadn't fully healed. But as they shared the warmth of their hot chocolate, Fayne felt something shift, a small crack in the wall that had grown between them.
It wasn't a resolution, but it was a chance—a chance to rebuild what had been lost, piece by piece, until maybe, someday, they could find their way back to each other. And for now, that was enough.