April 11, 2025 - 11:47 pm
The city outside glowed in silence, soft and golden in the haze of midnight streetlamps. Rain tapped on the balcony railing, steady and quiet, like a clock ticking down.
The loop was almost over.
Luca Mariano sat alone on the edge of his bed in the dark, elbows on his knees, fingers loosely tangled. His breath was steady. Controlled. But his heart felt like it had grown too heavy to keep upright.
Twenty-four loops.
He'd counted them all - every reset, starting again at the hospital, every time Darius blinked awake and looked at him like he was no one.
He didn't understand why.
He didn't know what the loop wanted from him. No hint. No warning. No pattern, except the cruel rhythm of one month replaying itself like a scratched record.
For the first few loops, he believed there had to be reason.
He thought maybe Darius had to remember. Maybe that would fix it.
So he tried - over and over. Familiar songs. Casual talks over coffee. Brought the mug he used to love. Darius smiled at it once and Luca thought he had a chance.
But nothing ever stayed.
Darius forgot him every time.
And Luca remembered everything.
11:52 pm
He walked towards his couch and leaned back slowly.
He should've felt something by now - rage, grief, fear.
But there was only a dull ache behind his ribs. Familiar. Heavy.
"I don't know what you want from me," he whispered, not sure who he was talking to. God? The loop? Himself?
"I did everything I could."
He didn't expect an answer.
He never did.
11:56 pm
The hour closed in slowly. The apartment grew stiller. Even the fridge seemed to hush. Yet he could hear the echo of Darius's voice in this room.
Not the present Darius. But his Darius who remembered.
The accident who led Darius into a coma gave him the shell of the man he loved and took away the soul of him.
And through the loop, Luca spent twenty-four months trying to fix that.
He wasn't even sure when the trying had turned into begging.
He was just exhausted now.
11:58 pm
He turned to the window, stared at the fading city lights, and let the silence settle over him.
No more plans.
No more hoping.
He didn't know if doing nothing would fix anything.
He just didn't have the strength to keep holding on.
"I'm tired..." he whispered into the dark.
The words didn't echo. They didn't need to.
They were just true.
11:59 pm
He leaned back, eyes closed, and let the moment take him.
He didn't brace.
He simply exhaled.
And the time went back again... unable to escape the never-ending nightmare.
-----
March 12, 2025 - 3:12 pm
The sterile scent hit first.
Then the beeping.
Luca opened his eyes to see the same window, same rain-smeared glass. The hospital chair beneath him dug intot he same spot in his spine. The machine clicked softly.
Across the room, Darius unmoving in the bed.
Luca sat still.
Then -
"... Hey," Darius murmured.
The sound was the same. The tone. The way his mouth shaped the word.
But something in Luca was different now.
He straightened his back. Smiled gently - professional.
"Private First Class Lopez," he said. "Welcome back."
Darius blinked at him. "Sorry... have we met before?"
"Yeah. Just visiting my subordinate."
Darius's eyes widened. "Sorry, sir. I..."
Luca stood quietly. "Get some rest. I'll get a doctor to check on you."
He left the room before Darius could ask more.
No lingering glance. No goodbye. He walked down the hallway with light steps and a hollow chest.
The twenty-fifth loop had begun.
And this time, he had nothing left to give.
-----
The low growl of black Ducati broke the calm of the afternoon for a moment before fading into stillness as Luca pulled up in front of the café.
The afternoon sun had begun to mellow, casting long shadows against the café's brick facade. The storefront sat in gentle warmth - calm and steady, much like the man who now stepped off his bike and unfastened his helmet with quiet hands.
Luca moved with the sort of ease that never looked rushed - a man trained in silence, unbothered by the passing of time. He ran a hand through his wind-tousled hair, the light catching faintly on the scar that ran cleanly over his right brow.
As he opened the door, the familiar bell gave a muted chime, and the warmth of the space greeted him instantly - the scent of coffee and warm pastries still lingering in the air, mingling with soft-conversation and the faint clink of mugs.
A few heads lifted as he entered, but only one pair of eyes truly lit up.
By the window, tucked in his usual seat, Noah looked up from the book in his hands.
He didn't speak at first - just watched Luca as he stepped inside, as if counting the seconds before making his move.
Then, with quiet steps and a hidden grin, Noah stood up and crossed the café floor, slipping behind Luca just as he took a step toward the counter.
Without a word, he wrapped his arms around Luca's back, pressing his chin on his shoulder, the gesture so familiar it no longer needed explanation.
Luca paused surprised but not unsettled. He exhaled once, almost soundlessly.
"Uncle, you're late." Noah pouted as he murmured.
"I'm just on time," Luca replied immediately as he pinched Noah's nose, voice low and composed.
Noah stayed there a moment longer, not caring about the looks.
"I'm hungry," he said simply.
Luca didn't move - but his shoulders dropped a fraction, just enough to show he'd heard.
Behind the counter, two baristas wee finishing their tasks. Alex was wiping down the counter and Theo was busy steaming milk. Both paused at the sight of their boss and his nephew - a faint grin passed between them.
"Welcome back, sir." Alex greeted politely.
"We've prepped most of the back already. Just waiting on the part-timers to switch in for the night shift."
Luca gave a nod, his voice even. "Thanks. You can clock out when they arrive."
He turned to Noah who had returned already to his usual by the window, flipping back to his last page. "Stay here for a moment. I'll cook something after a quick shower."
As Luca made his way up the stairs. Alex and Theo exchanged a brief glance, grinning of the familiar rhythm between the two. The customers whose attention were taken by the two also went back to their previous conversations, and the quiet of the afternoon settled again.
-----
Luca peeled off his jacket, setting it on the hook by the door. The apartment was wide enough for him and Noah to live comfortably and quietly. A single window facing the city let in the sunlight, casting long shadows across the living room.
He moved without thought - routine ingrained.
Boots off.
Shirt folded.
The bathroom steamed as he stepped into the shower, shutting the door behind him.
Luca stood under the stream, water running hot over his skin. He didn't move. Didn't sigh. Didn't speak.
The steam wrapped around him. Hands pressed against the cool tile.
"Sorry... have we met before?"
The voice echoed in his head.
His eyes burned.
He lowered his head.
The water masked everything - heat, breath, grief.
He stayed like that, quiet and still, until he could breathe without breaking.