Chapter 12 Confusion
The clink of Jenga blocks echoed through the rec room like tiny wooden warnings. Viv carefully slid a piece from the middle of the leaning tower, his bottom lip caught between his teeth. Across the room, the fluorescent lights buzzed above faded board games and snack wrappers.
"Your move," Viv muttered, sitting back.
Matteo, lounging lazily in the plastic chair opposite him, raised an eyebrow and cracked his knuckles like the game was serious business. He picked at the tower with zero strategy, relying more on luck than caution.
"You're gonna knock it over," Viv warned without looking up.
"Have some faith, would you?"
But Viv's attention wasn't really on the game. His eyes kept drifting—just slightly, just enough to catch glimpses over his brother's shoulder.
In the far corner of the room, Ash and Brad sat hunched over a battered Snakes and Ladders board. Ash had his chin propped in his small hand, eyes narrowed in concentration like it was chess, not a children's game. He smiled at something Brad said, and it lit up his whole face.
Viv looked away.
He did it again two minutes later.
And again, five minutes after that.
Matteo didn't miss the pattern. He paused mid-reach and gave Viv a sideways glance. "Okay," he said, drawing the word out like it was a challenge. "What's going on?"
Viv blinked. "What?"
"Non fare il finto tonto con me (don't play dumb with me)," his older brother said with a frown. "What are you doing?"
"What are you talking about?" Viv asked dumbly, looking down.
"You keep staring over there." Matteo tilted his chin toward Ash and Brad. "You've looked at Ash more than you've looked at this tower, and I'm pretty sure you actually care about winning."
Viv rolled his eyes and reached for a block. "I was just zoned out."
"Right," Matteo said, unconvinced. "Zoned out right into his face."
Viv gave a short, irritated sigh. "Drop it, Matty."
But Matteo just smirked, leaning back in his chair like he'd uncovered something juicy. "I'm just saying, you might as well go over there and join him. You keep looking at him like he's... I don't know. Interesting."
Viv picked a block a little too fast. The tower wobbled. He steadied it with his fingertips, jaw tight. "He's just... easy to talk to," Viv muttered, finally.
"Uh huh," Matteo said, not bothering to hide the grin in his voice.
Viv didn't reply. He stacked the block on top of the tower and stared at it like it had personally wronged him.
Across the room, Ash threw his hands up in fake frustration as Brad slid his piece up a ladder. Ash laughed, wide and carefree, and Viv's gaze wandered again before he could stop it.
Matteo followed it, then looked back at Viv with a little more softness in his expression this time.
"You like him," he said, quieter.
"Them," Viv corrected automatically, the word slipping out of his mouth before he even thought about it.
Matteo's eyebrows shot up in amusement. "Oh?"
Viv's face twitched in panic, realisation dawning like a punch to the stomach. "I don't. I'm not gay, you weirdo. He's my roommate. We're friends."
"Their roommate," Matteo said casually, leaning back in his chair like he was just sipping tea and not casually poking at Viv's very fragile mental state.
"Huh?"
"You're their roommate," Matteo repeated with a slight smile. "Seeing as if you want me to call him the proper pronoun, you might as well do it too."
Viv's face burned. "Well you suck at it because you just said him again."
"Fuck," Matteo laughed under his breath. "This is difficult."
"I know, right? Sometimes I'm too scared to even speak around hi—uh, them, because I'm so scared I'll say the wrong thing and hurt him. Them. Fuck, see? I'm still doing it."
"You're trying," Matteo said gently. "That's all that matters."
Viv let out a breath and slumped forward, resting his arms on the table. "I feel like I should be trying harder."
"You're doing as much as you can, Viv. Nobody's going to hang you for saying the wrong word once or twice."
"Yeah, I guess."
Viv looked up, letting his eyes drift toward the far corner again.
Ash was still sitting with Brad, but this time, as if he'd felt the weight of Viv's stare, he turned.
Their eyes met. And he—no, they—smiled.
It was soft. It was small. But it knocked something loose in Viv's chest. He looked away instantly, pulse spiking.
In front of him, Matteo let out a long, low whistle. "Wow. You have it bad."
"Vaffanculo (fuck off)," Viv snapped without thinking, but his voice lacked any real heat.
Matteo just chuckled. "You're doomed, bro."
Dinner that evening was quiet.
Viv and Ash sat across from each other at one of the smaller tables near the back wall like usual, their trays between them, the usual bland food steaming gently but untouched.
The murmur of conversation filled the dining hall around them.
They could hear other patients cutlery clinking, their chairs scraping, someone's annoying laugh echoing near the vending machine.
But at their table, it was just silence.
Viv shifted in his seat. He opened his mouth to say something but the words never made it out. A new voice beat him to it.
"Hey, losers!"
Ava.
Fcuk sakes.
She skipped over like she had springs in her shoes, her hair pulled up into two space buns that made her look younger than she was. Her tray clattered down beside Ash's, and she slid into the seat next to them with a theatrical sigh like she'd just run a marathon.
"Hope you don't mind," she chirped, stabbing a carrot with her fork. "Maya and Clara are being insufferable tonight, so I figured I'd third-wheel you two instead."
Viv blinked. "We're not—"
Ash nudged his ankle under the table lightly, cutting him off without looking at him.
Ava grinned, completely oblivious. "Anyway. What's the mood? Existential dread or mild despair? I'm in the market for both."
Ash gave a soft chuckle, shaking their head. "Somewhere in between, I think."
Viv sat back and pushed his food around with his fork.
Whatever he was going to say before, it was gone now.
Replaced by this weird knot in his stomach that only tightened when he caught Ash smiling at Ava's dumb jokes.
He didn't know if he was more annoyed at Ava for interrupting their silence, or at himself for missing his chance to speak.
"What's on after dinner?" Ava asked.
"I think some arts and crafts," Ash replied, voice calm and even, twirling a limp green bean on their tray.
"Sounds boring," Ava said, wrinkling her nose dramatically like she'd just smelled something awful.
"I don't know, it could be fun." Ash offered a small, half-hearted shrug, trying to stay optimistic.
Viv stayed quiet, resting his chin on his hand, eyes drifting between the two of them.
He watched the way Ava leaned into the conversation like she was the center of the room, and the way Ash humoured her with the same soft patience they gave everyone.
It made Viv's stomach twist, like he was the one third-wheeling now.
"But arts and crafts is always so boring," Ava groaned, flopping back in her chair a little. "We aren't even allowed real scissors."
"For obvious reasons, Ava," Ash replied with a gentle arch of the brow.
"Yeah, but still. I really don't understand what the big deal is. These guys really take things out of perspective. It's not like I'll slit my throat with a pair of blunt scissors."
Ash winced slightly, setting down their fork. "You never know."
Viv sighed, his voice low and tired. "We don't have to join, right?"
Ash turned to him then, green eyes soft in the dim cafeteria lighting. They shook their head, a small smile tugging at their lips. "Not if you don't want to. It's always optional."
"Good. I'm tired," Viv muttered, leaning back in his chair like the effort of existing today had already used up his battery.
"You're always tired," Ava chimed in, smirking as she stabbed another forkful of bland vegetables with theatrical flair.
Viv shot her a look but didn't reply. It wasn't worth it. Not tonight. God, she was so fucking annoying.
The clatter of trays and low murmurs of other patients filtered around them as dinner eventually wrapped up. Viv pushed his barely-touched food aside, stomach turning just from the smell. It wasn't like the food here was ever good, but lately even the thought of chewing made him nauseous.
Ash, on the other hand, had eaten most of theirs, though slower than usual—like they were waiting for something. Or maybe someone. Viv didn't say much, just stood up, dumped his tray, grabbed his medication on the way out, and started for the hallway with his hands shoved in his pockets.
He didn't expect to hear the soft tread of footsteps behind him. But there it was.
He glanced over his shoulder as he neared his bedroom. He raised an eyebrow at Ash who was a few feet away. "You didn't have to come back with me, y'know. You could've stayed and done some artsy crap."
Ash hesitated in the doorway, their fingers brushing the frame like they weren't sure if they should fully step inside. But then they did. Quietly. Calmly. Like they'd already made up their mind. "I wanted to talk to you," Ash said casually. "Hang out."
Viv gave a quiet scoff as he dropped onto his bed, back against the wall, legs pulled up loosely. "Talk about what?"
Ash didn't answer right away. They crossed the room and sat down on their own bed across from him, mirroring his posture but with a little more hesitance, like they were trying not to take up too much space.
"I dunno. Just... anything. You looked kinda out of it in the rec room and at dinner. Everything okay?"
Viv picked at a thread in his sleeve, his eyes flicking up briefly to meet Ash's, then darting away again. "Yeah. Everything's fine. I'm always out of it."
Ash offered a small smile. "True. But tonight felt different. You... you were kinda just staring at those jenga blocks with a frown on your face. Did something happen?"
Viv didn't respond. Not at first. But part of him was surprised Ash noticed. Even more surprised they cared. And most surprising of all, he didn't mind that they followed him. Not really.
"It's probably just these new meds. They're a little weird," Viv said nonchalantly, leaning back against the wall with his legs stretched out on the bed. His tone was casual, but his fingers tugged absently at a loose thread in the hem of his hoodie.
"Yeah, it's always weird when they start you on new stuff," Ash replied, their voice quieter, more thoughtful.
"I wouldn't know. This is my first time," Viv said, voice a bit lower now, eyes briefly flicking up to study Ash's face.
"Oh. Yeah." Ash nodded, like they'd just remembered. They looked tired, like something was buzzing under their skin and they didn't know how to shut it off. Viv noticed the way their foot kept bouncing, the way they couldn't sit still.
He frowned. "Are you okay?"
Ash blinked at him. "Huh?"
"You seem kinda... edgy."
"Edgy?" Ash echoed, giving a crooked smile that didn't quite reach their eyes.
"I don't know. What's wrong?"
"Nothing's wrong."
"You're lying."
"Are you interrogating me now?"
"Maybe."
"Then maybe."
"So you are lying?"
"Maybe."
Viv rolled his eyes, but there was a twitch of a smile on his face. "You're so cryptic."
They both fell quiet after that, the low hum of the hallway light outside their room the only real sound between them.
Viv's gaze drifted slowly to the small wooden bedside table that sat between their two beds.
Ash's worn-out journal sat on top, the leather cover a little frayed at the corners, a pen tucked neatly beside it.
"Can I read your journal?" Viv asked, like he already knew the answer.
Ash's head snapped toward him. "Absolutely not."
"Why not?"
"Because it's private, and I'll kill you if you ever do that."
"Oh really?" Viv smirked. "Trying to be a tough guy, huh?"
Ash stared at him, unblinking.
Viv's smile faltered immediately. "That's just an expression, I swear. I—I didn't mean to call... I mean, I wasn't—"
"Relax," Ash cut in, voice gentler now. "I know."
"I'm sorry," Viv said quickly, voice a bit more fragile than he intended.
"Viv, calm down." Ash gave him a small, reassuring smile. "I know what you meant."
Viv nodded, pressing his lips together as his heart started to slow again. He hated how on edge he got with this stuff, how easy it was to trip over a single word. But Ash didn't make him feel stupid for it. Not really. He just brushed it away nonchalantly.
Ash's smile lingered for a second before they looked away, staring at the little crack in the ceiling above their bed like it had something interesting to say. Viv watched them for a moment, then pulled his knees up to his chest and wrapped his arms around them.
"I, uh..." Viv started, then stopped. He glanced away.
This felt like the kind of thing you kept to yourself.
But then again, keeping things to himself had never made him feel better before.
He let out a quiet breath and tried again.
"I've been trying to fix it. In my head, I mean. Every time I mess it up."
Ash turned their head slowly, brows slightly raised, their expression unreadable.
Viv kept his eyes on his knees. "Like, if I say the wrong pronoun out loud, I'll correct it in my head after.
Or even if I think it wrong in my head, I'll quickly try and.
.. you know? Change it. I don't know. It's not like it undoes anything, but.
.. I guess I don't want to keep getting it wrong. "
Silence stretched between them for a beat too long and Viv immediately regretted opening his mouth. He rolled his eyes at himself and added, "You don't have to say anything. I know I sound like a dumbass."
"You don't," Ash said, soft and steady.
Viv glanced up.
Ash was watching him now with this kind of quiet warmth that made Viv feel more seen than he wanted to be. "I mean it. It... it means a lot. That you're even trying. Most people don't bother."
Viv shrugged one shoulder. "Yeah, well. I don't like feeling like an asshole."
"You're not," Ash said. "You're awkward and moody and kind of a pain in the ass sometimes, but you're not an asshole."
A small, crooked smile tugged at Viv's lips. "Thanks. I think."
Ash smiled back. "It's a compliment."
Viv nodded, still hugging his knees. "Okay. Just so you know, if I mess it up again, it's not on purpose."
"I know," Ash said again, this time more firmly. "I really do."
They went quiet for a bit, but it wasn't the bad kind of silence. It was the kind Viv could actually breathe in. He rested his chin on his knee and let himself sit with the strange comfort of it, still feeling that same warmth flickering in his chest like a candle he hadn't meant to light.
Ash let out a soft sigh through their nose and stood up, brushing their hands over their jogger pants like they were wiping away a decision. Viv watched from the corner of his eye as Ash crossed the room and picked up their journal from the nightstand.
He blinked. "Wait, what are you doing?"
Ash didn't answer. Instead, they padded over to Viv's bed like it was no big deal and sat down right next to him, uninvited and completely casual.
Their shoulder brushed against Viv's arm as they got comfortable, legs stretching out to dangle off the edge of the bed.
It was the kind of closeness that made Viv freeze up a little, breath catching in his throat.
He wasn't used to this. People didn't just do this with him.
But Ash didn't seem to notice—or maybe they did and just didn't care. They flipped open their journal with one hand, fingers fidgeting with the frayed edge of a page.
"I write stuff in here," Ash said quietly, like they were sharing a secret they hadn't meant to. "Poems. Sometimes lyrics. Just random thoughts, too."
Viv tilted his head slightly to look at them, trying not to move too much or seem too interested. But his curiosity was sharp now, buzzing just under his skin.
"Wait. You write? Like, write write?" he asked.
Ash chuckled under their breath. "I guess? I don't really show anyone. It's mostly just for me."
Viv looked at the journal, then back at Ash's face, studying the side of their expression. The way their eyes didn't quite meet his. The way their fingers kept twitching over the paper like they weren't sure if they should be doing this.
"Then why are you showing me?"
Ash shrugged. "You asked."
Viv was only kidding when he asked, but he wasn't going to point that out.
Not when Ash was sitting so close. Not when the journal was open between them, and Ash was slowly turning to a page, like they were about to read something aloud.
Viv swallowed, suddenly nervous. He didn't know if it was for Ash, or for himself.
Ash turned a couple more pages, the soft rustle of paper the only sound between them for a moment.
Viv watched their hands, their fingers—the way they hovered for a second before settling on one particular page.
Their thumb smoothed down the edge like they were stalling, or maybe steadying themselves.
"I wrote this one a few weeks ago," Ash murmured. "It's not finished or anything. I just... I don't know. Felt like writing it."
They glanced sideways at Viv, then down again. And then, quietly, they read.
"There's a room with no windows, no view of the day,
But the light flickers on like it wants me to stay.
I don't ask who does it, I just sit in the gloom,
Learning to vanish, alone in the room.
I wait to forget how to shiver and ache,
To stop feeling frostbite that's more than just fake.
The hands, they are reaching, they tighten, they squeeze
My chest starts to close, and I fall to my knees.
But far from this silence, this suffocating plea,
I dream of the waves in a vibrant, warm sea.
Where sorrow can't find me, and shadows don't bite
Just salt on the wind and the kindness of light."
Viv stayed completely still. It wasn't some overly polished thing, and it wasn't that long, but something about it made his chest feel weird.
The words were... sad. Hollow. Painful. The words were pressing into places he didn't let people touch.
Ash's voice, soft and low, carried more weight than it should have.
Like they were saying more than what was on the page.
Ash closed the journal before Viv could say anything. "I told you it's not finished," they said, brushing it off.
Viv didn't know what to say. He was quiet for a second, staring at the journal now tucked protectively under Ash's arm.
"That was..."
Ash met his eyes.
Viv swallowed. "Sad."
"Oh?"
"Sorry. I... I mean, it was good," he said, voice low. "Really good."
Ash didn't respond right away. Their shoulders were still touching, and Viv could feel the way they took in a breath and let it out slowly. "Thanks," Ash said. "I usually hate everything I write the second I look at it again."
Viv gave a little laugh under his breath. "I can imagine. That's why I've never tried stuff like that."
Ash looked at him again, more directly this time. Their gaze was soft, curious. "Do you wanna try?"
Viv shrugged, suddenly self-conscious. "What would I even write about?"
Ash smiled. "I don't know. Write about how you're trying to fix your grammar in your head every time you talk to me."
Viv rolled his eyes, but the smile tugged at his lips anyway. "You're never letting that go, huh?"
"Nope."
They fell into silence again, but this time it wasn't awkward.
Viv let himself relax a little, just enough to lean back against the wall, even though their arms were still barely brushing.
He looked over at Ash, at their messy blond hair and the faint crease between their brows when they were thinking too hard.
He didn't say it out loud, but he thought it: I don't get why I want you to like me and accept my personality this much.
And he didn't understand why it scared him so badly when he realised how true that was.
Viv sat still beside Ash, eyes fixed on the wall opposite but not really seeing it.
Ash had gone quiet—calm, like they always seemed to be after talking about something that mattered.
But Viv's mind was anything but calm. It was racing, looping through thoughts he didn't really want to look at too closely.
He wasn't gay. He knew he wasn't gay.
He'd had a girlfriend before. He'd kissed girls, touched girls, wanted girls.
So then why did it feel like his whole chest flipped upside down every time Ash smiled at him?
Why did he keep watching their hands when they talked, or zoning out on the curve of their jaw, or—God—getting weirdly nervous whenever Ash looked at him for too long?
It doesn't mean anything. That's what he told himself.
Over and over. It doesn't mean anything.
You're just close. You're roommates. You sleep in the same room.
You hang out a lot. You talk. Of course he was going to feel something.
It was probably just... emotional dependency or whatever.
Like when you get stuck on a desert island and start naming coconuts or falling in love with volleyballs.
Still. That didn't explain the way Ash's voice sometimes got under his skin. Or how Viv felt weirdly defensive anytime Ava got too close to them. It didn't explain why he felt seen—in this subtle, terrifying way—every time Ash laughed or nodded along to something he said.
Viv turned his head a little and looked at them again, sitting cross-legged at the foot of his bed now, thumbing through the edge of the journal like they were lost in their own world again. Ash didn't notice him staring.
Viv looked away quickly and shut his eyes.
I'm not gay, he told himself one last time.
But it didn't really fix the way his heart thudded in his chest like it didn't believe him either.