HanaAi
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“You weren’t there,” Hugo said quietly. A single sentence that carried all the hurt, all the pain, all the heartbreak. “You weren’t there, Lycaon.”
When I needed you the most, said the tremble in Hugo’s voice.
Lycaon could almost hear the crack between them again. He’d thought, perhaps foolishly, that they’d patched it up; clumsily mended what they once had, enough to pretend things were as they used to be. But the wounds of their separation were still there, raw and unhealed, hurting them both.
“I know,” Lycaon said at last. Because what else could he say? He couldn’t rewrite the past. The damage had already been done. Apologies now would only feel hollow, maybe even insulting. He couldn’t bring himself to mock Hugo’s pain with half-hearted comfort. “I know, Hugo."
For that, I am sorry, said Lycaon’s outstretched, untouched hands.
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They both know; no single apology, nor fleeting words, were ever enough to bridge the chasm between them.
Bookmarked by HanaAi
27 Jul 2026
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Bookmarked by HanaAi
28 Jun 2026