Work Text:
Lovro doesn’t feel the regret seeping in immediately after. He stays out in the balcony until his cigarette runs dry and the crowd behind him wavers as the evening goes on. It’s meditative on it’s own right, the overcast darkness hanging above him like some dumb metaphor that he would’ve laughed at if he was in a better mood.
As it is, he’s in the worst mood he’s ever been. Lovro’s half-tempted to say fuck it and straight up dial Jakov just to hear his voice, but if anything that’d sour him even more. So he stays there, standing and smoking and trying to think of how he’d rather be anywhere else right now. He doesn’t wanna go home to the sight of his mom tonight though, and he doesn’t have anywhere else to go.
It hits him when he’s in the middle of his third cigarette and the bitter taste of alcohol burns his tongue. He just ruined Eva and Jakov’s relationship. He ruined two of his best friends’ relationship. And the worst part probably isn’t the fact that he feels — knows — that he majorly fucked up whatever bits of trust Eva had left for him. If she even had any left in the first place. No, it’s Jakov knowing that gripped the deep, instinctual fear within him.
Up until now, he had thought he was handling the confrontation quite calmly. Eva was yelling at him, yeah, he deserves that, but at least he wasn’t blowing up back at her. “Why?” she had asked. Lovro could’ve lied and told Eva that Ines pressured it out of him, being close with her and all, or maybe he could’ve told Eva that Nix probably bragged about it to Ines and she put the blame on him. But Lovro really didn’t know why he did it.
“It just happened.” He said. That was a lie, too. He knew damn well why his big mouth tattled, stoned or not. And Eva looked down on him like she suddenly didn’t know him anymore, couldn’t bare to look at him.
Lovro couldn’t stand it. The unfamiliar scrutiny of her gaze when, back then, it felt like Eva was the second closest to understanding him. He wonders when the rift between them started.
“How long have you been standing out here for?” A voice calls out behind him, and Lovro has to turn around to see who it belongs to. Ines peeks out of the sliding glass, red tint in her cheeks.
“Sorry,” Lovro crushes the butt of his cigarette on some worn-out ashtray he had found in the corner of his eye ten minutes ago. He glances at his cup that stands precariously on the ledge. “I can go if you’d like.”
“Uh, no. I’d be a pretty bad host to kick you out.” Her words are slightly slurred together. “But it’s chill. You can stay, there’s just more people and food inside.”
“Right. Okay, thanks for telling me.”
Ines smiles in what she might’ve thought been a reassuring manner, but came out as hesitant instead. Still, she leaves the glass door open when she walks away. The reality of music and people chattering comes back tenfold, and it shatters Lovro’s illusion of peace. He realizes, belatedly, that he must’ve looked like some weirdo standing outside the cold by himself.
It’s whatever. He closes his eyes shut and presses his wrists against his eyelids until he sees white. He takes a deep breath, takes his cup and heads back in.