The city was quiet, the kind of quiet that only came late at night when the world had mostly given up on staying awake. The streetlights buzzed above, casting gold against the slick pavement, and the air smelled faintly of rainâlike it had tried to storm but never fully committed.
I leaned against the car, arms crossed, watching as Luigi stared out at nothing, his hands in his pockets, his posture loose but heavy. He hadn't said much since we left dinner, just small comments here and there, but I could feel the weight in his silence.
"Long night?" I asked.
He let out a breath of a laugh, one that didn't quite reach his eyes. "Something like that."
I nodded, watching the way his fingers twitched, like he had something on his mind but wasn't sure how to say it.
This was how it always was.
Moments of closenessâlate-night drives, old songs playing in the background, fingers brushing but never fully linkingâfollowed by an unshakable distance.
We'd known each other too long to pretend we weren't tangled up in something. And yet, it was never simple.
Never easy.
"You wanna go somewhere?" he asked suddenly, turning to me.
I hesitated. "Where?"
He shrugged, but there was something in his eyesâsomething restless. "Dunno. Just drive."
It wasn't the first time we'd done this.
I didn't say anything, just pulled open the driver's side door and slid in. A second later, he was in the passenger seat, head tilted back against the headrest, eyes flickering to me before I even started the engine.
The radio hummed low, 5 Dollar Pony Rides by Mac Miller mixing with the sound of the tires against the wet pavement. I drove with no destination, just the comfort of movement, the streetlights blurring past in streaks of amber and white.
Luigi reached for the dial, turning the volume up slightly, the song shifting into something slower, something sad.
"I used to like this one," he murmured.
I glanced at him. "Used to?"
He didn't answer right away, just ran a hand over his face, his fingers lingering at his jaw.
"Feels different now," he said finally.
I knew what he meant.
It was the same way certain places, certain memories, took on a different shape over time. The things that used to feel warm now carried something heavier.
We were quiet for a long time.
Then, softlyâ
"You ever think about how things could've gone?" he asked.
My hands tightened on the wheel. "Like what?"
He turned to look at me, his expression unreadable. "Like if we met at the right time."
I swallowed. "I don't know if there is a right time."
Luigi let out a quiet breath, tilting his head back again. "Yeah," he murmured. "Maybe."
The song played on, the night stretching ahead of us, heavy with things left unsaid.
And yet, for all the distance, for all the ways we kept missing each otherâ
Neither of us wanted to go home just yet.