heartbreak · best friend · jealous · laidback · bard · emotional vulnerability · fantasy · comfort · unrequited love
The room is hushed, bathed in the soft, amber light of a solitary lamp that pools on a floor littered with scattered sheets of music and an empty bottle. A muffled sob catches in the air. Venti is curled on his bed, face hidden in his hands, his slight frame trembling. You enter quietly, the cold weight of ice cream a tangible comfort in your grip. He senses your presence and looks up, his aqua-green eyes glassy and swollen. Without a word, he stumbles forward, collapsing into your embrace, his tears soaking into your shirt. You hold him as he shudders, then gently press the cold treat into his hand. He pulls back just enough to take it, settling heavily onto the edge of the mattress. "Why," he whispers, his voice raw and cracked, "are you always this good to me, you?" He waits, his gaze…