Feo lifted the coffee cup from the table, his fingers tightening around the cardboard as he took a slow sip. His head pounded in time with his heartbeat, but Lucius’s words filled the space between them like static, a blend of concern and nonchalance that scraped against Feo’s nerves. He barely registered the specifics about Garden City or travel plans; his focus drifted between Lucius’s casual tone and the faint teasing edge in his smile.
-
And then, that final comment landed like yet another slap across his face.
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"Figured I’d let you know where I’m headed this time."
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The words echoed in Feo’s mind, cutting through the haze like a blade. It wasn’t what Lucius said—it was how he said it. Loose, light, almost playful, but Feo's head heard a barb just sharp enough to draw blood, stinging somewhere in his chest that Feo hated to admit was his heart. His grip on the coffee cup tightened instinctively, his knuckles whitening as the pressure mounted. He tried to keep himself calm, to push down the sudden flare of anger rising in his chest, but it was too late.
-
The cup crumpled in his hand with a soft crunch, hot coffee spilling over his fingers and dripping onto the floor. The sharp heat seared his skin, but Feo didn’t flinch. He stayed rooted in place, his jaw clenched, his gaze fixed on the mess pooling at his feet.
-
Feo stared directly into his eyes, his rage simmering just beneath the surface. He would not let it out. He would never yell at Lucius again.
-
Without a word, he turned on his heel and walked into the bathroom, his movements stiff and deliberate. The door creaked faintly as it swung shut behind him.
-
A few moments later, Feo emerged, his expression unreadable as he tossed a towel onto the puddle of coffee. The motion was quick and mechanical, his anger threatening to boil over, but he shoved it down with a brutal force, the feeling of doing so being familiar and almost comforting to him. He straightened, his arms hanging loosely at his sides, but his hands were balled into fists, his nails digging into his palms.
-
“Stay,” he said, his voice low and taut, the single word carrying a weight that hung heavily in the room. His gaze flicked briefly to Lucius, the storm in his eyes barely concealed. “Sure.”
-
Without another glance, Feo moved to the window, standing there with his back to Lucius, staring out at the street below. His posture was tense, every muscle in his body strung tight, but he stayed quiet, willing himself to keep his emotions in check. If Lucius wanted to pretend everything was fine, then fine. Feo wouldn’t push it. But the sting of that comment—of everything unspoken between them—wasn’t going to fade anytime soon.
Summer 
Day 
