“What’s your song called?”
Titan kept his eyes on the keys. “‘Turning Tides.’”
They considered it. “Fitting.” Augustine walked to the window and stood in the glow. A wistful ache settled in their chest as they listened to their friend’s tune. They wanted to linger in that moment a while longer, but like the light, it would surely fade.
“I like that part,” they said, returning to the bench. “The shift is abrupt, but you could emphasize it by sustaining the last note.”
“Show me what you mean,” Titan said, scooting over.
It took a few tries, but Augustine reshaped the phrase. The note elongated before the transition.
“It sounds…hesitant,” Titan said.
“Is that bad?”
“It’s believable.” He tried the timing himself.
Satisfied, Augustine turned to leave and let Titan complete his song. They stalled in the doorway, listening to the time shift once more. When it came, just as they’d practiced, Titan’s eyes drifted from the piano to Augustine.
“It does sound better your way.”
* * * *
Chapter 3: Eventide’s Zenith
“Did something happen to you?”
Augustine’s sudden question cut through the silence of the car ride. It was nearly midnight; a time you can ask questions like that.
“What makes you ask?” Titan said.
“You flinch when I touch you. Like if my hand brushes yours, you pull away.”
“Do I?”
“You do.”
“I didn’t notice.”
Titan hated conversations like this, ones that felt like a demand to explain himself. He wanted to crawl out of his skin. A thought flickered through his mind; he could open the door and just roll out of the car. He decided against it. It would probably kill them both. He gripped the steering wheel, eyes fixed on the white dashes of the road, clinging to the pattern to avoid Augustine’s gaze. He wasn’t ready for this.
“I’m trying to figure you out, but you’re so…reticent. Ifeel close to you but also like you’re worlds away,” Augustine said. “We’ve been together for what, six months? And I know we haven’t called this anything, but I think of you as, like, I don’t know, my best friend or maybe something else. Sorry if that sounds stupid.”
Something else.The precipice of change threatened to unravel everything that had finally become familiar.
“It doesn’t. And nothing happened.” There was much more Titan wanted to say, but his mind was a haze of incoherent thoughts, like the dense fog on the road ahead.
Augustine sighed. The silence settling between them stretched, growing heavier, thicker—until the air itself felt like it was pressing down on them both. Titan knew he’d have to speak eventually, but he held out as long as he could. When he couldn’t bear the pressure in his chest any longer, the first honest words tumbled out.
“I’m just…afraid,” he said.
Augustine paused before turning confessional. “I’m scared too. But I also have other feelings. Like we could be something? I mean, when we go out, or when we’re with the band, I think everyone already sees us as a pair. We’re a team, and that just naturally happened over time. I can’t even imagine us apart anymore.” They ran a hand through their hair before continuing. “I just—dammit. It’s hard to do this. Even now, you feel so far away.”
Since the funeral, breathing had become a learned behavior, something Titan had to remind himself to do. He’d notice the world spinning; it wasn’t until the dizziness set in that he’d realize he was holding his breath. An essential function that seemed to work automatically for everyone. In front of Augustine, though, he was acutely aware of his every ragged inhale and forced exhale.
“I have feelings for you. It’s not that I don’t care. I’m justnot very good at affection.” Titan traced the steering wheel as if it held the words he was searching for. He was thankful that Augustine couldn’t see his face in the darkness.
“Can I ask you something? Personal?” Augustine said.
