Chapter Text
Cold water splashed against his face. Tighnari blinked at his reflection in the grime-smudged mirror, watching the droplets roll down his cheeks. His eyes were glassy and bloodshot, not just from the alcohol, but from whatever sat heavy and festering beneath the surface. The kind of weight that always rose with drink. Memories. Ones he didn't want, didn't ask for.
Why was it always like this? People said alcohol made you forget. But it never worked like that for him.
He wiped his face roughly with the back of his hand, avoiding the disgusting towel dispenser. The club's bathroom smelled like freshly smoked weed and that biting lingering of sweat. The mirror was covered in streaks and old tape marks, and the walls were scribbled with the incoherent thoughts of strangers: confessions, insults, numbers, inside jokes lost to time.
"N—— is a hoe," one read in messy black ink. Tighnari snorted. Who even brought a pen to a club?
His stomach turned, maybe from the vodka, maybe from himself. He stepped back from the sink, careful not to touch anything more than necessary, and pulled open the door with his elbow.
The hallway outside was loud and dim. Music throbbed through the floor, muffled by the distance. He stepped out and glanced around, expecting to see them. The group he came with. But no one was waiting. The corridor was empty.
He frowned. They said they'd wait. Just a bathroom break, then they'd head out together. Had a good song pulled them back to the dancefloor?
Tighnari weaved through the crowd, scanning the writhing mass of strangers. No familiar faces. Not at the bar. Not in the smoking corner. A flicker of worry started to pulse at the base of his skull. He ducked past a couple making out by the exit and approached the wardrobe desk.
"Sorry," he asked, "did you see a tall guy in a green coat, and a girl with blue streaks in her hair?"
The woman looked up from her screen. "They left ten minutes ago. Said they were done for the night."
Her words hit him like cold air. Tighnari stood still for a moment. His throat tightened.
"Oh," he said.
He turned, walking slowly back toward the bar. Fumbling for his phone. Maybe it wasn't on purpose. Maybe they thought he'd already gone. Maybe... He couldn't even type in his password correctly. His vision was blurry, his fingers clumsy. Eventually he found Collei's name and hesitated. She had work early. She was probably fast asleep.
He hovered over the call button.
The screen went black.
Dead battery.
His breath hitched, and something in him snapped. With a frustrated grunt, he slammed the phone onto the bar, not hard enough to break it, but enough to make a sound. He winced, checking the screen for cracks. None. Lucky him.
He wasn't sure if it made him feel better or worse.
Screw it. One more drink wouldn't kill him.
He turned toward the bartender , the one he'd noticed earlier, only in the background. Tall, lean, his white hair tied back in a bun. Tanned skin, sharp jaw, a single earring catching the red lights above. He was pouring a drink for a girl with red hair, who laughed too loudly, leaning close across the counter.
Flirty. Probably straight.
"Whatever's cheapest," Tighnari muttered, avoiding eye contact.
The bartender slid a shot glass across the counter without a word. Tighnari tossed it back, barely tasting it.
"Where'd your friends go?" the bartender asked, voice low.
Tighnari glanced up. For a moment, their eyes met. The bartender's were sharp, but there also was a glance of curiosity.
The bartender slid a shot glass across the counter without a word. Tighnari tossed it back, barely tasting it.
"I think they left me," he said flatly. "Probably thought it was funny. They know I can't walk home like this." He pushed the glass forward. "Give me another."
The bartender's gaze softened.
"I think you've had enough for tonight." , he said as he took the glass "
"Do you have someone you can call?"
Tighnari blinked slowly. "Phone's dead."
There was a pause. Then the man reached into his pocket, pulled out his own phone, and slid it across the bar without fanfare.
"Use mine."
Tighnari stared at the phone. "Really?"
But the bartender had already turned away, moving on to the next customer like it was nothing.
He picked up the phone hesitantly. The screen glowed in his hand. He scrolled through the keypad, trying to remember any number. Anyone.
But his mind was blank.
Fuck.
He didn't know a single number by heart. Not Collei's. Not Alhaitham's. Not even his own.
He stared at the screen, the soft blue light washing over his face. For a moment, he just stood there, the weight of everything settling back onto his shoulders.
Maybe he should just walk.
The air would sober him up. And at least this way, he wouldn't bother anyone.
He pushed the phone gently back across the bar.
"Thanks," he muttered as he slid off the stool and rose to his feet.
The stairs felt longer than before. His jacket clung to him like a second skin. The night air hit him like a slap .Wet leaves crunched beneath his boots and he pulled his jacket a bit tighter to his body.
He took two steps, then stopped.
Where the hell was he even going?
He looked around, disoriented, trying to get his bearings.
"You're really unlucky tonight, huh?"
Tighnari turned at the voice. The bartender was outside now, leaning against a black car, cigarette burning between two fingers. He was wearing a jacket now, something worn looking but warm, and a handmade purple scarf wrapped around his neck.
Tighnari narrowed his eyes. "I don't need your pity."
The man flicked the cigarette to the ground, stepping on it.
"I pity everyone who ends up here. You're not special."
That stung. Because it was true.
Tighnari looked away, shame prickling down his spine. He hated being seen like this... worse, being seen by someone who clearly saw through him.
The man pushed off the car, walked around, and opened the passenger door. "Get in. I'll drive you."
Tighnari didn't move. "I don't even know you."
"I'm Cyno. Get in."
Tighnari stared at him.
He should say no. Every instinct said no. But he was tired. Cold. Drunk. And somewhere between the fake smiles and the slammed shot glass, he'd hit a breaking point.
So he got in.
The ride was quiet. Tighnari gave his address and stared out the window, watching the city blur by. He didn't thank him. Not yet. Not until they were parked outside his apartment, engine idling softly beneath them.
The car rolled to a gentle stop at the entrance. Tighnari squinted at the apartment building through the window, blinking slowly, as if he had seen it for the first time.
Cyno shifted the gear. "You live here?"
Tighnari hummed. "Think so."
He reached for the door, but Cyno's voice stopped him.
"It's bold" , his voice was dry, "To get into a strangers car"
Tighnari tilted his head, grinning. "Right. Is this the part where you kill me? Or are you more the assault kind of guy?"
That made Cyno snort. "Not in the mood tonight," he said, dry. "But you better run before I change my mind."
Tighnari hummed, stepping back and tapping the roof of the car. "Shame," he murmured. "Would've made a great trauma cherry on top."
Their eyes met, and something in Cyno's gaze flickered. Cyno glanced briefly toward Tighnari. His fingers twitched near the steering wheel, but he said nothing.
Tighnari considered, just for a second, inviting him up. Or maybe not even that. Maybe just... leaning in. Letting something happen. Something quick. Something forgettable.
Right here.
But Cyno's face didn't change. Still that unreadable calm. Still watching him.
Tighnari swallowed it down. "Night," he said instead, soft. "Drive safe."
He pulled his jacket tight, and headed inside. His keys jangled in his hand. He couldn't stop the thoughts from circling in his head.
He was alive.
...
"You're quite possibly the dumbest person I know."
Tighnari groaned, slumping deeper into the chair like he could sink through the floor if he tried hard enough. His forehead nearly touched the edge of his laptop, the screen still glowing with half-finished notes.
He'd just finished recounting the miserable weekend to Alhaitham... well, most of it. Of course the man had questions after getting a call from an unknown number at 2 a.m. But Tighnari had left out one very important detail: the part where a stranger drove him home. No way in hell was he going to let Alhaitham form an opinion on that. Like he didn't already know what it would be.
Most of the night he didn't really remember. Did he have conversations with that bartender? If so, he couldn't recall any of it.
Across from him, Alhaitham sat with a book resting in his hands, brow slightly furrowed as he read. They were technically studying, or at least pretending to.
They weren't really friends. It's not like they hing outside of uni.
At least not officially. But Tighnari didn't see anyone else more than once a week, let alone twice, let alone in complete silence that somehow never felt awkward. If Collei didn't count - and she didn't, not really, because she was family - then Alhaitham was now officially the closest thing to a friend he had.
Alhaitham finally sighed and closed the book on his lap, setting it down like he'd had enough of pretending not to care.
"Did those people you went out with at least apologize?"
Tighnari didn't answer right away. He just reached for his coffee and took a small sip. He placed it back exactly in its little ring of condensation on the table before answering.
"They sent me mean messages."
Alhaitham frowned, unimpressed. "Block them."
As if it were that simple.
Tighnari didn't answer. He didn't have to. The weight of silence between them filled the gap.
They were Kaveh's friends. Kaveh had been with them that night. Kaveh had left too. And somehow that part stung more than the others.
Especially because Alhaitham and Kaveh were rather close...
Tighnari wouldn't even know Kaveh if it wasn't for Alhaitham.
Sometimes he joined them on their study dates, though when Kaveh was with them, they didn't get as much done.
He groaned and let his head fall forward with a soft thud against the table.
"Stop being so rational," he mumbled into the wooden surface.
"You don't need people like that," Alhaitham replied flatly. "I may not be the party type, but I'd still rather go to one with you than see you get treated like garbage."
That made Tighnari lift his head just enough to turn and look at him. His cheek was pressed against the table, ears drooping a little.
"Actually?"
Alhaitham met his gaze, the lines around his eyes softer than usual , his voice even more so. "Actually."
It surprised Tighnari.
Alhaitham usually didn't express himself like that, so it caught Tighnari off guard.
A small smile tugged at the corners of his mouth.
Across the table, Alhaitham cleared his throat and straightened up, already retreating behind the book like he hadn't just said something kind. But Tighnari noticed the faint red tint on his cheek, and the way his eyes flicked back down to the same page without turning it.
Tighnari mirrored the motion, sitting up again and trying to focus on his open notebook. His smile lingered quietly. For a while, neither of them spoke.
Then, Alhaitham's voice broke the silence.
"Kaveh wants to meet at our usual café later." A pause. "You want to come?"
The mention of Kaveh's name was like a soft bruise being pressed.
Tighnari bit the inside of his cheek, eyes on the page in front of him. On one hand, he missed their little trio. On the other... he hadn't forgotten how Kaveh had left him that night. How he didn't even check if he'd gotten home safe.
No message.
Not even a , "Sorry we had to leave early."
The ache came without warning, dull but steady in his ribs.
Still, after a beat, he sighed.
"Why not?"
...
"The cake here is so good," Kaveh gushed, eyes practically sparkling as he took a generous bite. A crumb stuck to the corner of his mouth, but he didn't seem to notice. His plate held a thick slice of chocolate cake, layered with glossy ganache. The kind of thing that was probably far too sweet, but Kaveh looked thrilled anyway.
"You always get the same one," Alhaitham remarked flatly, glancing over the top of his book. "How can you still be so impressed by it?"
Tighnari let out a quiet chuckle, brushing his thumb over the rim of his coffee cup. "Says the man who's read the same book five times."
Without looking up, Alhaitham grumbled something unintelligible and turned the page.
Kaveh kept smiling. Like nothing had happened. Like there hadn't been last weekend Tighnari would rather forget - one Kaveh had been part of. That, somehow, might've been the worst part of all.
As if it hadn't mattered. As if he hadn't mattered.
Tighnari's eyes drifted toward Kaveh's fork, tracing the slow, satisfied movements as he ate. He barely had time to sit with the resentment curling low in his stomach before a voice broke through the soft café din.
"Cyno! There you are!"
Kaveh shot up so quickly he nearly knocked his coffee into his lap. Plates and utensils clinked in protest.
"You sure took your time," Kaveh added, already on his feet, arms wide as the newcomer approached.
Tighnari's breath caught in his throat.
White hair. Tied back this time, half-up, half-down, slightly messy but somehow still intentional. His face was the same. Sharply handsome. The same man from the club.
The bartender.
Heat rushed into Tighnari's cheek.
Cyno's eyes scanned the table as he sat down beside Kaveh, casual and composed. "Last time we met, you were wasted," he said, deadpan.
Tighnari laughed - too quickly, too awkwardly. He wiped his palms against his jeans, suddenly far too aware of the slight tremble in them.
"You two know each other?" Kaveh asked, blinking between them.
"You could say that," Cyno said, already reaching for a menu. "Though I didn't catch his name."
Kaveh turned a look on Tighnari that was too curious for comfort.
"That's Tighnari," Alhaitham offered, without looking up. "A friend of mine."
"I see." Cyno's tone was unreadable, but he met Tighnari's eyes for just a moment too long.
Tighnari wished he could shrink into his seat. Maybe vanish entirely. As the conversation picked up around him, he stayed quiet, fingers curling protectively around his cup. Even Alhaitham seemed to be drawn in, bantering with Cyno and Kaveh about some shared university module. Tighnari didn't follow a word of it.
He just listened.
Or tried to. Mostly he listened to him - Cyno. His laugh was louder than expected, deep and open. He didn't cover his mouth when he smiled. There was something magnetic about the way he spoke - slow and deliberate, like everything he said had already been carefully thought through. Tighnari found himself watching his lips more than anything else.
Get a grip, he told himself.
Cyno eventually ordered something, flatbread, maybe, with a side of hummus, and scribbled something in a small notebook while the others kept talking. Then his gaze flicked over to Tighnari's cup.
"No cake for you?"
Tighnari blinked. "Oh. I'm not really big on sweets."
Kaveh frowned, practically pouting. "Why didn't you say anything? We could've gone somewhere else."
As if he cared now about Tighnaris preferences.
Probably wanted to look good infront of Cyno.
"Don't worry about me," Tighnari said quickly, his voice light, almost cheerful. He fiddled with his pen, spinning it between his fingers. "I'll just eat when I get home."
His smile didn't quite reach his eyes.
A beat passed. The warmth of the café suddenly felt a bit too much. He stood up, smoothing down the front of his shirt.
"I should probably get going anyway. I've got some work to finish."
Kaveh looked mildly disappointed. Alhaitham only hummed. Cyno glanced up again but said nothing.
Tighnari offered a polite smile to the table and turned, not waiting for anyone to stop him.
...
Collei and Tighnari had only moved in together a few months ago, but it already felt like home.
They'd known each other since high school - two biology nerds who had clung to each other in a sea of unfamiliar faces. Their shared interests made university decisions easy - the only difference being their different major, meaning that they barely saw eachother. But apartment hunting had been far more easy. They never fought about decor or chores; somehow, their tastes just aligned. Muted earth tones. Minimal clutter. Plants on every surface. It wasn't discussed, just understood.
Probably because they hadn't spend their youth with any other person.
By now, Tighnari didn't think of Collei as a friend. She was family, no question. She was the closest thing he had to a little sister, though he'd never had siblings of his own. He'd always been the youngest in his actual family, but with her, the instinct to protect was immediate.
The sound of keys at the door pulled him from his thoughts.
He paused mid-vacuum as the front door opened and Collei stepped in, juggling a tote bag and her coat. Her hair was wind-tossed, her eyes bright.
"You're late," he said, arching a brow, though there was a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.
"You're early," she shot back, grinning. "I'm going to a party."
She bounced into the living room, setting her things on the coffee table with the kind of energy only Collei had. Her bag gave way to a small avalanche of makeup: lipsticks, eyeshadow palettes, a tiny glittery mirror. Tighnari blinked.
"I didn't know you were into all that," he said, stepping aside to let her through.
She shrugged, cheeks faintly flushed. "I made a friend. Her name's Nilou. Super sweet. And the first thing she did was invite me out tonight. I've never been to a real party before."
Tighnari smiled, but a familiar twist of worry curled in his stomach.
He remembered what it felt like - walking into a place where everyone else already knew each other. How easy it was to get swallowed by noise, overlooked, or worse, left behind. He'd lived that. And he didn't want Collei to.
Still, he nodded, reaching for calm. Not everyone's like that. Not everyone leaves you.
"That's great," he said, gently. "Just... call me, okay? If anything feels off."
Collei huffed, rolling her eyes.
"Yes, dad," she said, grinning.
The word made something tighten in Tighnari's chest. It was small. Invisible, maybe, to anyone else. But it hit a nerve. Sharp and sudden.
He forced a chuckle, brushing past her with an overly casual, "I'm serious."
"I know," she said, softer. "I'm joking. I'll call you. Promise."
He nodded, eyes on the floor for just a second too long before lifting them again with a smile. He ruffled her hair like he always did, even as that hollow ache pulsed beneath his ribs.
He was glad she was here. He really was. But sometimes, in quiet moments like this, something stirred... some buried thing he'd tried to forget.
And sometimes, a single word was all it took to bring it back.