"Thank you again, Viktor." I sit down at the Tikhonov family's kitchen table while Viktor prepares dinner for his family and myself.
"For what? This is what friends are supposed to do... Be there for each other." He opens the fridge, searching for something. My mind wanders to Jonathan.
I wonder how he's doing. We said some terrible things to each other a few nights ago, which led me to leave our apartment and somehow end up at Viktor's house. He's probably doing just fine. He didn't seem to be the least bit upset at the words that he threw at me.
If he only knew how much those words had hurt me.
"(Y/N), can you run to the store? I thought we had butter, but it seems like we don't."
Even though I don't feel like moving a single muscle, I comply.
Walking out into the cold air feels awful, but Viktor has opened up his home for me. It's the least I can do for him.
I walk into the supermarket and pace straight towards the refrigerated section. As I look over the various brands of butter, I hear someone say my name.
Turning my head, I see Patrick standing next to me.
"Hey, Patrick!" I smile at my good friend. I haven't seen him in almost a week, which is quite a long time considering he's at Jonathan and I's apartment multiple times a week.
"Um," He pauses. "So, uh... How are you doing?" He asks me.
I knew this was coming. I bet Jonathan asked him to talk to me.
"I'm doing... alright." I give him a weak smile. "The best I can be." I grab a container of butter off the shelf and turn to face him.
"Listen, I know this isn't exactly what you want to hear right now, but Jon has been really terrible lately." He gives me a sad, disappointing look. "He looks a hundred times worse than you do."
"Wow, thanks Pat." I joke.
He smiles, "That's not how I meant it to come out, but you know what I mean." He takes another breath. "Please talk to him. You guys are practically made for each other... And I'm also really sick of hearing about you." He laughs, but I know he's just messing with me.
"I just don't know if I can." I shake my head. "Some of the things that he said to me the other night were scary."
"But you know how people say things they don't really mean while they're fighting." He says.
"I guess..."
"Just promise me that you'll call him? Sometime this week?" He gives me his best puppy dog eyes.
"Fine." I agree. "I'll call him."
Patrick smiles in his victory as I begin to walk away from him.
"I hate you." I call out behind me.
"I love you too!" He responds, making me laugh.
I return to Victor's house with the butter in hand. The entire drive home I've been debating whether or not to call Jonathan.
Did or did he not truly mean what he said? Should I forgive him this quickly? Or should he call me first?
After ten minutes of my internal debate with myself, I realize that I'm being ridiculous. I love Jonathan with all my heart, so why waste another minute without him?
Patrick told me that he missed me terribly and that he wasn't doing well at all. Why should I let him suffer like that?
After dinner, I thank the Tikhonov family for their generosity. I tell them that I'm going back home... Back to where I belong.
My heart pounds as I knock on the apartment door. Does he even want to see me? Is he mad at me for leaving for so long?
These thoughts fly through my head and before I can realize it, the door creaks open to reveal a pale, puffy-eyed Jonathan.
"(Y/N)?" He asks, his voice raspy.
He looks awful. I can't believe I had let him be in this state for so long.
I don't say a single word as I walk past him and back into our home with my bags. He continues to look at me with caution before I run into his arms.
"I missed you so much." I confess as tears begin running down my face, soaking into his shirt.
"I'm so sorry, baby." He squeezes me tighter into the hug. "I didn't mean a single word that I said. I promise it won't happen again." I feel his tears on my face and my heart breaks again.
"I forgive you." I pull away to look up at him. When his eyes reach mine, I grab the sides of his face and pull him down to my height, kissing him. I've forgotten what his lips feel like on mine.
"Let's just forget that any of this ever happened, okay?" I wipe away the tears on his cheeks.
"Okay."
