The walk back was quiet, but not in the way that made Damian anxious. It wasn't tense, wasn't filled with the weight of unspoken things pressing down on them. It was just quiet, like they were both trying to process whatever the hell had just happened. Like neither of them wanted to say something that might ruin it.
The city was still awake around them—cars humming in the distance, neon signs flickering above closed shopfronts, the occasional laughter from some drunk couple stumbling out of a bar. The smell of rain lingered in the air, mixing with the faint scent of cigarette smoke from somewhere nearby. But here, on this street, under the dim glow of the streetlights, it felt like just the two of them.
Alex walked with his hands shoved deep into the pockets of his jacket, his head tilted up slightly like he was watching the sky. His face was unreadable, but Damian knew him too well—he was thinking. Overthinking. His shoulders were tense, his brows slightly furrowed, his lips pressed together like he was holding something back.
Damian let out a breath, shoving his hands into his own pockets. He hated this—this weird, heavy silence that sat between them now. It wasn't like before, when they could sit in comfortable quiet, letting the world move around them while they existed in their own space. No, this was different. This was charged, weighted with something neither of them were ready to acknowledge.
"You're gonna burn a hole in the sidewalk if you keep staring at it like that," Damian muttered, his voice cutting through the stillness.
Alex huffed a quiet laugh but didn't look over. "Just… thinking."
Damian raised an eyebrow. "Dangerous."
That earned him a sideways glance, and for a second, it almost felt normal. Like they weren't standing at the edge of something neither of them knew how to name.
Alex sighed, kicking at a stray pebble on the sidewalk. "I don't get it, man. I feel like… I don't know." He trailed off, exhaling sharply, his shoulders rising and falling. "Like something's changing, and I don't know if it's a good thing or a bad thing."
Damian swallowed hard. He could lie, pretend he didn't know what Alex meant, brush it off like they always did. But he was tired. Tired of pretending this wasn't happening.
"Yeah," he said, voice low. "I know."
Alex slowed his steps, and Damian had no choice but to do the same. Their footsteps echoed against the wet pavement, the only sound between them now. For a second, it felt like they were teetering on the edge of something. Like one wrong move could send them falling into whatever was waiting beneath them.
Alex shoved a hand through his hair, his fingers tugging at the strands in frustration. "You ever think about just—" He stopped, cutting himself off, shaking his head. "Never mind."
Damian's chest tightened. He took a deep breath, his throat dry. "Just what?"
Alex hesitated. He wasn't good at this—wasn't good at talking about things that mattered. But neither was Damian, so maybe that made them even.
Alex exhaled sharply. "Just… stopping. Stopping all the second-guessing. Stopping all the overthinking. Just doing whatever the hell feels right for once."
Damian's heart pounded. He didn't know what Alex meant. Or maybe he did. Maybe he just didn't know if he was ready to hear it.
Alex let out a humorless laugh, kicking at the pavement. "Forget it. It's stupid."
But it wasn't. It wasn't stupid at all.
Damian wet his lips, his throat dry. His fingers twitched in his pockets, fighting the urge to reach out, to do something instead of just standing there like a fucking idiot.
"What if I don't want to forget it?" he said, voice quieter now.
Alex finally turned to look at him, his expression unreadable. His dark eyes locked onto Damian's, and for a second, neither of them moved. The world kept turning around them—cars in the distance, people laughing, the city breathing—but right here, in this moment, it felt like time had stopped.
Damian could feel his pulse in his throat, in his fingertips, in the space between them that suddenly felt smaller than it had a second ago.
Alex's jaw tightened slightly, like he was weighing something, like he was deciding whether to step forward or step back.
And Damian didn't know what the next move was supposed to be. He just knew that whatever happened next, they couldn't go back.
And maybe—for once—he didn't want to.