The wall between their bedrooms was paper-thin. Thin enough that Pete could hear Mek cursing at his game, sighing when he was frustrated, or softly humming when he didn't realize anyone was listening.
He'd learned to recognize the sounds like music.
The thud of a pencil hitting the desk? Mek was stuck in a drawing.
The soft creak of a window opening at 2AM? Mek couldn't sleep again.
The silence that lasted hours? Mek was hurting.
Pete hated that he knew all this. Hated that he cared this much.
And mostly… hated that Mek still looked at him like he was the dirt under his shoes.
---
"Why are you staring?" Mek growled without even looking up from his phone.
Pete blinked, caught in the act — leaning over the shared fence between their yards, arms folded like he had all the time in the world.
> "Because you're ridiculously hot when you're annoyed," Pete grinned, lazy and shameless.
Mek's head snapped up. "Are you trying to die?"
> "Mmm, death by your glare? Kinda worth it."
Mek rolled his eyes so hard, Pete was pretty sure they saw a different dimension.
He turned away, muttering something under his breath, but Pete swore he caught the faintest blush on those sharp cheekbones.
God, he was beautiful when he was mad.
---
They hadn't been friends in years. Not since that stupid fight when they were fourteen — something about a broken game controller, a harsh word, and then weeks of silent cold war that turned into... this.
Whatever this was.
Pete still tried. Even after all this time.
And he didn't know why.
Maybe it was the way Mek used to smile before life crushed it out of him.
Maybe it was the way he looked at the world like it owed him pain, and Pete just wanted to be the exception.
Or maybe... Pete was just hopelessly in love with the boy who never stopped pushing him away.
---
Later that night, Pete sat by his window, tossing a stress ball into the air, again and again.
Mek's window was open.
Light on.
Sketchpad out.
Headphones in.
Pete sighed.
> "Why do you keep looking at someone who never looks back?"
He didn't expect an answer.
So when Mek turned, just slightly, and their eyes met through the glass—
Pete's breath caught.
Mek didn't glare.
Didn't smirk.
He just… looked at him. For a full second. Like maybe, just maybe, he saw Pete too.
Then the blinds dropped.
Pete's heart kept racing anyway.