Morning sunlight filtered through the windows as Milo stirred awake, the memories of last night hazy yet comforting. He rose, stretching and slipping out of the guest room. As he walked down the hall, the faint scent of coffee led him toward the living room. There, seated with a book in hand and a mug of coffee resting beside him, was Victor.
Milo paused for a moment, taking in the scene—the way Victor's expression softened in the quiet morning light, the focused look on his face as he read. There was something about the image that Milo found comforting, and he fixed it in his mind, a quiet memory he somehow wanted to keep.
Victor looked up, noticing him, and his face softened further into a gentle smile. "Morning, Milo. How are you feeling?"
Milo returned the smile, nodding. "Good morning, Victor. I'm feeling better, thanks."
Victor motioned to the seat across from him. "Come, sit."
Milo took a seat, the warm atmosphere making him feel unexpectedly at ease. They sat in companionable silence for a few moments, Victor sipping his coffee while Milo gazed out at the early morning light. Then, with a quiet breath, Victor broke the silence.
"I didn't want to pry last night," he began, his tone soft but concerned, "but if you're comfortable, I'd like to know what made you so sad. Sometimes, sharing can help."
Milo hesitated, his gaze dropping to his hands. He took a breath, and something about Victor's calm, attentive presence made him feel like he could finally open up. Slowly, he nodded, and when he spoke, his voice was soft but steady.
"I… I'm gay," Milo said, glancing up to gauge Victor's reaction. To his surprise, Victor's face didn't reveal shock or discomfort. Instead, there was only a slight widening of his eyes before he gave a reassuring nod, waiting patiently for Milo to continue.
Feeling a weight lift, Milo continued, encouraged by Victor's quiet acceptance. "I had a boyfriend. We met in college, and for a while, I thought things were good… I was happy. But then I found out he was cheating on me—with a woman."
Victor's expression grew pained, his hand resting on his knee as he listened intently.
"When I confronted him," Milo continued, his voice shaking slightly, "he just… laughed. Said he was just 'having fun' with me, and that he couldn't be serious about a man. He told me he'd always planned to marry a woman eventually." Milo paused, the memory still fresh, and took a shaky breath. "It all ended with a terrible argument, and I haven't seen him since."
Victor reached across the table, placing a hand gently over Milo's. The warmth of the touch startled Milo, but it was comforting, grounding him as he spoke.
Victor's voice was soft, steady. "Not every relationship works out, Milo. Sometimes, people hurt us… but that doesn't mean you won't find someone who genuinely cares for you."
Milo looked at him, a bit surprised. "You really think so?"
Victor nodded, his gaze steady and sincere. "Absolutely. Someday, someone will come into your life and fall for you over and over again. Someone who will see you for the kind, wonderful person you are."
Milo was stunned, not just by Victor's words but by the warmth in his eyes, the confidence in his voice. It was the first time he'd heard anyone say something like that about him.
With a gentle smile, Victor continued, "You're a handsome, beautiful man, Milo. And one day, you'll find someone who sees that—someone amazing who'll appreciate you exactly as you are."
A surprised chuckle escaped Milo, and soon he found himself laughing. Victor joined in, their laughter filling the quiet space, the weight of the past momentarily forgotten.
As they laughed, an unspoken bond began to form, weaving itself quietly between them, a bond neither had expected. Neither realized it, but in that moment, they were no longer just two people passing through each other's lives—they were becoming something more, two souls starting to connect in ways they couldn't yet understand.
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