Cecil stared at himself in the mirror of his and Camus's shared room, furrowing his brow. It was only a little detail, he didn't know why it mattered so much. It wasn't like it was life changing... Or was it?
He honestly didn't know.
The next few days were just as bad, with it popping up in his mind over and over again. He can tell he was acting strange now, even the others could tell. He was sure he was doing something subconciously, but he couldn't put his finger on it. Was he avoiding someone? Or maybe he was doing something differently.
"Is everything okay?" People kept asking him, though he couldn't give them a straight answer. It was always "I don't know" with him these days, whenever the subject came up.
What was wrong?
He'd been seeing Camus less and less these days. Was he mad? Maybe he was just busy with work. But...
Camus always made him go to work with him, even if he didn't want to. Even if Cecil didn't want to.
If he didn't want...
The realization hit him like a sack of bricks(not that he knew what being hit with a sack of bricks felt like, and he didn't know who did), causing him to think back to the past week. He'd denied every invitation(even if they were forced) to Camus's performances and shows, all of his own will, with little resistance. It must have suprised his senior just as much, having give in so easily.
Cecil stared at his hands as the thoughts came back, confused.
"Am I..."
Talking to Camus had become a challenge, he'd noticed. At least, for him it was.
Whenever the older man would talk to him about his career as an idol(not that he planned to become one), his responses would be short, frequently one-worded, and if he could help it, not at all.
They ended quickly too, and he didn't even complain as much as he used to.
He watched as Camus walked away, his expression unreadable as always. But there was something else, something he couldn't exactly pin.
Why was it that, when it came to anyone else, Cecil could read them perfectly, but never with Camus?
The man was impossible, always keeping his emotions in check. He never spoke of himself, never let anyone in.
So when Cecil began thinking of him more, it was nothing less than troubling.
Ai was giving him odd looks.
The younger male would always have his eyes on him, from the moment he entered the room(he'd had the misfortune of being in the wrong place at the wrong time too often to be comfortable) to when he left. He didn't know why it bothered him so much, but it was something in the pro's eyes that had him on edge.
If anything Syo complained about was true, this Sempai could be dangerous.
"Cecil."
Said male nearly dropped the sheets of music he was carrying, on his way to Haruka's room to drop them off. The girl had run out of paper, but was in the middle of composing at the same time, so he'd volunteered to pick some up for her.
He turned, only to meet Ai's bright blue eyes.
"You've been acting strange."
"I'm not-"
"Particularily around Camus."
Cecil stopped mid-sentence, processing the other's words. Was he? He'd known he was doing something different, but he was sure the only thing different between him and Camus was the fact that they'd seen less of each other these days.
"... What do you mean?" He couldn't help but ask. Ai stood up straight, as he had been leaning forward.
"You've been avoiding him, you two barely talk, and I've noticed you've been sleeping outside a lot lately. It's not healthy, you know."
Cecil barely heard the last coment, attempting to think back to all those times Ai had mentioned.
The rare meetings, the short conversations, and he never thought twice about finding a place outside to sleep, particularily in trees(although he did feel that he was catching a cold), but...
Was he really avoiding Camus that much?
"... I see..." He mumbled. Ai said something else, though he didn't process it, before turning on his heel and walking away.
He'd recognized the signs, but he didn't think he, of all people, would be having them.
Avoidance, unwillingness to talk, and his uncomfotable feeling around the other. Not to mention his odd behavior coupled with his jumbled thoughts, it didn't take Cecil long to put the pieces together.
"I'm... in love."
It wasn't the concept itself that bothered him, nor was it the fact that relationships were forbidden in the agency. No, he had a bigger problem...
"... With Camus."
He was sure the other person didn't love him back.
xXxXxXx
A/N: CUZ WHO NEEDS SLEEP RIGHT God I've been staying up too late... Just think of this as a prologue to another fic I have planned... that may take a while, since I tend to update slow and although it's practically written I have no intention of uploading it until my current ones are finished... FML. I'm sorry if this didn't make much sense, in general and since I can't really write Ai in these situations(It's 3:20 am, give me a break) it'll make more sense when... and if, the actual story comes out. So, like, be patient.
UNDERDOG HERO, AWAY!... I need some sleep.
Edit: I was hoping that this was longer than it looked, but you know what? Fuck editing, I'll do it when I can think clearly.
Edit2: DAMMIT IT IS SHORT!