The next morning felt like walking through a fog. Damian's head throbbed, each pulse making the room spin a little more. His eyes squinted at the sunlight streaming through his window, too bright and too harsh. He rubbed his temples, wishing he could block it all out. He hadn't expected to wake up feeling this heavy—didn't want to. He hadn't wanted last night to stick with him, but it was impossible to shake.
The memory of Alex's question, his eyes, that tension between them—it wouldn't let him breathe. Every time he closed his eyes, it was there, lurking under his skin. He tried to push it away, tried to ignore it, but the feeling refused to stay buried.
Damian groaned as he dragged himself out of bed, clutching his head as if the pain might somehow distract him. He reached for his phone, hoping that maybe something would pull him out of this state, but the screen just flashed with a few unread group messages and some class notifications. No message from Alex.
It was a strange kind of relief mixed with disappointment, but he didn't linger on it. Not yet.
He stumbled through his morning routine, his brain foggy, his body tired. The hangover was just starting to catch up with him, making everything feel dull and distant. The second he walked out of his apartment, though, the noise of the campus hit him like a wave. People everywhere—laughing, talking, rushing to classes. Everything felt normal again, but there was this undercurrent of tension inside him. Something was off. And he knew exactly what it was.
He tried to shake it off as he made his way to class, but the second his phone buzzed in his pocket, his heart jumped. It was Alex.
You up?
Damian paused in the middle of the crowded hallway, glancing around at the flow of students. The message stared up at him, almost mocking him with how simple it was. It was just a question, but it felt like something more. He stood there for a moment, wondering if he should ignore it, if he should just keep walking. But that was never how it worked with Alex, was it?
Yeah, just woke up.
A couple of moments passed before the reply came through.
You good?
Damian's stomach turned. Was Alex really asking if he was okay? After everything? The race, the question, the way they'd looked at each other? He wasn't sure how to answer that. It was like Alex had read right through him, even though he'd only asked a simple question.
I'm fine. You?
He hit send without thinking too hard. He wasn't sure if he was trying to convince Alex or himself.
Same.
Another pause, longer this time. Damian tapped his foot, staring at the screen. He wasn't sure what to expect, but when Alex's next message appeared, it made his breath catch.
Last night was… weird, huh?
Damian's chest tightened, and for a moment, he couldn't breathe. The way Alex had said it, the way he'd acknowledged it without going too deep—it made everything feel real. Too real. He didn't want to think about it, didn't want to talk about it, but here it was.
Yeah. It was. Whatever, though.
He tried to sound casual, tried to make it seem like last night had been just another one of their stupid adventures. But it wasn't. Damian could feel that, and now Alex knew it too.
Another long pause followed. Damian wondered if Alex was rethinking sending that text, if maybe he'd take it back and pretend nothing had happened. But the message came through again.
You sure?
Damian stared at the screen, his thumb hovering over the keyboard. What did Alex want him to say? He wasn't sure. He wanted to say no, to say everything about last night had been fucked up, but he couldn't bring himself to do it. Instead, he typed out the only thing that felt safe.
I'm sure.
He hit send, and the finality of it made his chest ache. He didn't want to think about what that meant—what it meant for them, for their friendship. He shoved the phone back into his pocket, trying to get back to the routine of his day. The hallway felt even more suffocating now, the buzz of conversations and footsteps all too loud, too intrusive.
Later, he bumped into Alex outside of class, as if the universe had decided to throw them together again. Alex gave him that familiar smirk, his hands shoved in his jacket pockets. "Hey," he said, his voice light, almost teasing. "You look like you're about to punch someone. Everything good?"
Damian couldn't help but laugh, even though it felt forced. "Yeah, I'm fine. Just tired."
Alex gave him a look, like he was trying to read him, to see past the bullshit. "Alright. Just checking."
They fell into step, walking side by side toward their next class. The silence between them wasn't awkward, but it was thick with something neither of them wanted to address. The air felt charged, heavy, like something was just waiting to be said. But neither of them spoke.
Damian wanted to say something, to ask something, but he didn't. He kept walking, letting the quiet consume him. Whatever was between them, they were both pretending it didn't exist, pretending that things were still the same. But Damian knew they weren't. The question that had been hanging in the air last night, the one neither of them had answered, was still there, still waiting for an answer.
And as they walked side by side, Damian couldn't help but wonder—how long could they keep pretending?