The Invitation

Deep breaths resounded through the empty penthouse, its atmosphere filled with tension and anticipation. Ethan was frantically trying to clean up, aware of the impending arrival of his unexpected guest. His penthouse's state mirrored his inner turmoil, and he knew he had to convey that accurately. As he surveyed the messy scene, he noticed the shelves covered in a thin layer of dust, the sink filled with unwashed dishes, and the scattered clothes were strewn across the floor. It was a chaotic sight, reflecting the internal chaos and struggle that consumed him.

"I should've thrown away the mirror," Ethan muttered, his voice tinged with regret as he stared at the shattered remains of his reflection. The broken mirror served as a painful reminder of his past, its cracks mirroring the cracks within himself.

Time seemed to slip away as Ethan continued his frenzied cleaning, his mind preoccupied with the upcoming encounter. The weight of anxiety settled on his chest as he realized how little time remained. A flush of warmth crept up his cheeks, a mix of panic and anxiety washing over him as he assessed the mess still surrounding him. His once-pristine haven had become a neglected shell, a physical manifestation of his emotional turmoil.

"Perhaps... inviting him so hastily was a mistake," he murmured, his voice trembling with uncertainty as he gathered some discarded laundry from the bedroom floor, questioning when he had even worn those clothes. Dirty dishes lingered in the sink while dust coated his books and shelves. The clock ticked away, leaving him only half an hour.

Prioritizing the tasks, Ethan took a moment to center himself, his stress and anxiety coursing through his body. Despite the overwhelming pressure, a small smile tugged at his lips. Jack, the reason for this invitation, was about to step into his personal space, an opportunity for the ideal apology he had been yearning for. Ethan knew he had been defensive, failing to explain himself adequately. It was a difficult admission, but he understood that he needed to make amends.

Ten minutes slipped away as Ethan muttered apologies and explanations, the penthouse gradually transforming into a fragment of its former glory. Once pristine and meticulously cared for, it had become a forbidden sanctuary, with only Ethan's presence gracing its halls. Yet, Jack had become the sole exception, a presence that had punctured the solitude of the past month.

"Breathe, Ethan. You're fine. You're okay," he reassured himself, echoing into the vacant space.

Dishes were cleared, dust was hastily attended to, and while it was far from perfect, Ethan convinced himself that it was acceptable. The lingering question, however, remained: Would Jack see it the same way? Would he complain about the mess, overthink it? At the very least, Ethan was relieved that Jack would no longer stumble upon his underwear scattered in unexpected places.

The sudden doorbell melody reverberated through the silent penthouse, startling Ethan. For a moment, his world froze, his heart pounding in his chest. He's here. Another round of doorbell chimes jolted him back to reality, prompting him to open the door. Despite his desire to appear calm and collected, his face revealed a bright smile and a glistening sweat on his forehead as he greeted Jack.

"Welcome. Uh, come in," he stammered, a mixture of excitement and nerves in his voice.

Jack blinked a few times, seemingly taken aback by Ethan's uncharacteristic demeanor, before returning the greeting. After a brief moment of hesitation, he stepped inside, removing his coat and tending to his belongings.

Meanwhile, Ethan took a few deep breaths to calm his nerves. It had been a while since he had felt this nervous, reminiscent of the first time he brought Natsumi home. He let out a small chuckle, the memory now seeming like a distant, painful past.

Ethan's heart skipped a beat as he turned to face Jack. Something was captivating about him, something that drew Ethan's gaze and held it. He couldn't help but notice Jack's subtle charm, the way he carried himself with a confident yet gentle demeanor.

As Jack entered the entry hall, a warm smile graced his lips. It was a smile that reached his eyes, genuine and inviting. Ethan found himself captivated by the way Jack's blue eyes sparkled with kindness and understanding.

Ethan couldn't help but take in the details of Jack's appearance, his mind momentarily forgetting the mess around them. He observed the casual yet perfectly fitting ensemble—dark jeans, a crisp white shirt, and a casual blazer. The fabric seemed to mold to Jack's form, emphasizing his physique effortlessly.

There was a gracefulness to Jack's movements, a fluidity that Ethan couldn't help but admire. Jack's body language exuded a comforting warmth, an ease that put Ethan at ease as well. He seemed at home in his skin, starkly contrasting Ethan's internal struggles.

Ethan's cheeks flushed his realization of checking Jack out flooding his mind. He quickly averted his gaze, embarrassment washing over him. He hoped that Jack hadn't noticed his scrutiny, his sudden infatuation. It was a vulnerable moment that Ethan wasn't quite ready to acknowledge or confront.

As they stood in the hallway, a silent understanding passed between them. Ethan couldn't read Jack's thoughts, but he sensed a genuine interest in his presence. There was a depth to Jack's gaze, a curiosity that sparked a flicker of hope within Ethan.

In that brief moment, Ethan saw the potential for connection, for healing. Jack's presence, words, and demeanor hinted at the possibility of something more. It was a glimmer of light amid Ethan's recent breakup and emotional turmoil.

But Ethan also felt a pang of uncertainty, a fear of reopening himself up to vulnerability. His gaze lingered on Jack for a moment longer before he composed himself, pushing aside his inner turmoil. There would be time to explore these feelings, but they had other matters to attend to.

"Welcome to my humble abode, Jack. It's not much, but it's home," Ethan finally managed to say, though his voice carried a slight tremor, betraying his underlying unease.

"You're too modest, Ethan. Your home is beautiful, and the view of the city is breathtaking. Don't worry about the mess; it's not as bad as you think. Your kitchen is lovely, even if you don't cook much. And your bedroom, well... it may be simple, but it feels like you. It's all very... you," Jack responded, conveying sincerity and appreciation.

"Thank... you," Ethan replied, his voice catching in his throat as he struggled to express his gratitude. He hadn't expected such understanding and acceptance from Jack, his mind preoccupied with concerns about the state of the house and the broken mirror.

"You're very welcome. Shall we sit down? Talk?" Jack suggested, his words accompanied by a gentle smile.

Ethan nodded slightly, his cheeks still burning, as he led Jack toward the couch in the living room. The large floor-to-ceiling windows framed a breathtaking view of Arcadia, offering a glimpse into the bustling city and the countless lives it held.

"Thank you for coming here," Ethan began as they settled down, his gaze fixed on his feet instead of meeting Jack's eyes. "I... I wanted to apologize."

"Apologize?" Jack's voice held a note of surprise, his attention entirely focused on Ethan.

"I'm sorry for what happened last time, for shutting you out and saying hurtful things," Ethan confessed, his voice trembling with raw emotion.

A brief moment of silence hung in the air as if Jack was searching for the right words to respond.

"It's okay, Ethan. I was also wrong. I lost my patience and lashed out at you, which was inappropriate. As your psychiatrist, I should have been listening to you," Jack finally spoke, his words revealing a mixture of regret and understanding.

Ethan finally raised his head, meeting Jack's gaze. He could see the genuine concern and distress in Jack's eyes, a reflection of the pain caused by their previous exchanges. And yet, there was something else, something unspoken lingering beneath the surface.

"As I said, the house may be a bit messy. I've been... preoccupied," Ethan admitted, his voice hinting at self-consciousness as he recounted his recent struggles. "I wanted it to be spotless and decluttered for you. But honestly, I've been struggling to keep up with everything. I'm fine with it the way it is. It has been like this for a while now."

"Ethan, as I mentioned earlier, a little dust and a broken mirror don't bother me. Not in the way you think," Jack reassured him, his gaze unwavering. "I can see that you've made an effort and trying. And I appreciate that. I'm proud of you for making those efforts."

Ethan felt relief wash over him, realizing that Jack had seen through the external mess and understood the true significance of his actions. He had shown progress, albeit imperfect, and Jack acknowledged it.

"Thank you for seeing that," Ethan choked out, his voice catching with gratitude. He had been so consumed by worry about the state of his home, fearing that it would reflect his failure.

"You're very welcome. Now, would you like to sit and talk?" Jack offered, his tone gentle and reassuring.

With a slight nod, and his cheeks still tinged with warmth, Ethan led Jack to the couch in the living room, facing the magnificent view of the city. It was a serene moment, a respite from the chaos that had consumed their lives.

"Thank you for coming here," Ethan spoke again, his voice laced with vulnerability. "I... I wanted to say sorry."

"Sorry?" Jack's voice conveyed surprise as if Ethan's apology had caught him off guard.

"I'm sorry for last time, for shutting you out and for the hurtful things I said," Ethan reiterated, his words carrying the weight of his remorse.

There was a pause, a pregnant silence filled with anticipation as if Jack was carefully choosing his response.

"It's okay, Ethan. I was wrong too. I let my frustration get the best of me, and I shouldn't have. I should have been more patient and understanding," Jack confessed, his voice holding a mixture of regret and determination.

Ethan listened intently, his heart pounding in his chest. Jack's admission stirred a mix of emotions within him—relief that Jack acknowledged his mistakes and a sense of responsibility for the pain he had caused.

"As I said before, the mess in your home doesn't bother me. But what does concern me is seeing the signs of your struggle. The broken mirror, the dust, the clothes scattered about... They're all indicators of something deeper, something that goes beyond the surface," Jack expressed, his concern evident in his voice and furrowed brow.

Ethan felt a pang of unease in his chest, realizing that Jack had noticed the subtler details, the signs of his inner turmoil. Jack's growing concern was palpable, as if he had just started comprehending the extent of Ethan's struggles.

At that moment, their eyes locked, and Ethan saw a mix of surprise and worry reflected in Jack's gaze. It was a look he recognized that mirrored the pain and worries he saw in his reflection when he contemplated his past and mistakes. The realization hit him that Jack truly cared, that his presence in Ethan's life carried weight and significance.

The tension between them cut by cut with a knife as Ethan was torn between the relief of being seen and the fear of vulnerability. He wasn't sure if he was ready to confront the emotions that Jack's care stirred within him, the complex web of feelings he had yet to unravel.

"I... I know I'm not okay, Jack. I know I need to take better care of myself. But it's... it's hard. It's hard to eat when I have no appetite, to sleep when my mind doesn't stop racing," Ethan confessed, his voice filled with resignation and determination. "I am trying, Jack. I am. And I appreciate your concern; I genuinely do. But you must understand that it's more complex than eating or sleeping. I... I'm dealing with a lot, and it's overwhelming. I'm not pushing you away; I need time to figure things out. I don't want to burden you with my problems."

The room was steeped in silence for a moment, the weight of their emotions hanging in the air. Ethan anxiously awaited Jack's response, uncertain of how he would react to his admission of vulnerability.

"Ethan, I see your efforts and am proud of you for trying. But you must understand it's not just about showing me you're improving. It's about actually getting better for yourself," Jack spoke, his voice filled with concern and resolve. "Part of that means taking care of yourself physically and emotionally. You can't sustain yourself on apples, kiwis, and a few hours of sleep. It would help if you had proper nourishment and adequate rest. It would be best if you prioritize yourself, Ethan. Because you matter, you matter to me."

Ethan felt a surge of conflicting emotions wash over him—gratitude for Jack's unwavering support, fear of what it meant to be seen and cared for so deeply. Jack's concern was a double-edged sword, offering hope that he could heal and demanding vulnerability and self-reflection.

As Ethan took a moment to gather his thoughts, his heart clenched in his chest. "Jack... if you're worried about me, why don't you stay over? You can eat with me and make sure I get some proper rest," he blurted out, his voice revealing a mix of apprehension and longing.

The room fell into a pregnant silence, the weight of Ethan's words hanging in the air. He looked at Jack, his gaze intense and searching, hoping to find a glimmer of understanding and acceptance.