Old Ejiro wasn’t brave. Old Ejiro clung to his comfort zone with the zeal of a koala refusing to let go of the security of its tree.
But Ejiro didn’t want to be Old Ejiro anymore.
He wanted to be brave. He wanted Obiora, period.
After this episode, he told himself resolutely, with a confidence he couldn’t yet feel. But fake it till you make it and all that, right? After this, I’ll tell him how I feel, and we’ll figure out how we can gracefully bow out of the competition.
Then I can be with him for real.
The thought made his stomach bubble with nerves and anticipation, and a yearning so fervent it left him short of breath.
He noticed a presence in his periphery and looked up. When he spotted Obiora watching him with a soft, fond smile on his lips, Ejiro’s heart skipped several beats. His body lit up like sparks, his lips stretching into a wide grin.
“Obiora!” he exclaimed happily.
Then he realised he was probably being a little too obvious, and quickly tempered his reaction. He snapped his sketchbook shut, placed it on the bench and stood quickly, sliding his feet into his outdoor slippers. He was blushing, grateful his dark skin hid the flush in his cheeks.
“You’re back,” he said, calmer this time. Then he suddenly remembered what Obiora was coming back from, and felt his stomach sour like curdled milk. “How was your date?” he asked with false brightness.
Please don’t tell me, please don’t tell me, please don’t tell me—
Hearing about Obiora taking Sophia on his “dream” date would literally rip Ejiro’s heart to shreds, even if it was just pretend.
“That’s what I’m here to talk about,” Obiora said, a little solemnly.
“Oh?” Ejiro said, caught off guard by the tone.
Obiora seemed to inhale deeply for strength. Then he walked up to Ejiro, and took both of his hands gently in his.
Ejiro’s pulse jumped. He stared at Obiora, eyes wide. For some reason, the easy, intimate act of Obiora holding his hands like this made Ejiro feel like Obiora was holding his very heart. His lips parted slightly, and Ejiro swayed forward almost helplessly, a piece of metal drawn to magnet.
Obiora’s eyes darkened. He pulled Ejiro down to the bench so they were sitting beside each other, knees pressed close, still holding hands, resting on their knees between them. When Obiora gave Ejiro’s hands a squeeze, Ejiro dutifully squeezed back, the action making Obiora’s eyes darken impossibly further. God, Ejiro wanted him.
“Ejiro,” Obiora began, his words hoarse. He took another breath to fortify himself. “I’m leaving.”
Ejiro felt his world come to a violent stop. “What?”
“Sophia eliminated me after our date,” Obiora clarified, his voice still thick. “I have to leave in a few minutes.”
“What?” Ejiro repeated. Oh God, he couldn’t breathe. “Why is she eliminating you? What happened?” His voice kept rising in pitch after each question, his panic palpable.
He tried to pull his hands away, but Obiora tightened his grip, refusing to let him run. Refusing to let him hide.
“I told her the truth,” Obiora said.
“The truth?” Ejiro was barely listening. Obiora was leaving. He was leaving. The fact repeated itself over and over again in his head and heart, blocking his lungs so he could barely take in air, spots dancing in front of his eyes.
Obiora couldn’t leave—Oh God, he couldn’t—not yet—not now—Ejiro hadn’t even told him now he felt—he wasn’t ready—
“Ejiro,” Obiora said firmly, giving his hands a grounding squeeze. “Come back to me.”
Ejiro blinked. He was breathing too hard. “I’m here,” he said, a little desperately. “I’m here.”
“I told her the truth,” Obiora repeated, staring deeply into his eyes. “I told her that I couldn’t in good faith continue on, because I was—” Obiora hesitated. “I told her I was in love with someone else.”
Oh. Ejiro sucked in a sharp breath. The grip he had on Obiora’s hands tightened to the point of pain. “With someone … else,” he repeated, his voice too high, his heartbeat too loud.
Obiora blushed. He lifted one of his hands to tenderly cup Ejiro’s cheek, his thumb stroking his skin.
