Nikodemos had seemed very antisocial.

Or at least, more so than usual.

And Branko had no clue why.

It seemed as if the Macedonian had been avoiding contact with any other person for no apparent reason. No calls were returned, no texts were replied to, and every time Branko saw Nikodemos, the other man would merely ignore him and act like he had never seen his Montenegrin friend.

Branko, over the days, had become worried. Was there something wrong with his former lover?

The twenty-two year old Montenegrin had also become tired of sitting around and waiting for Nikodemos to give up being the way he had been, so he decided to go out and force the Macedonian to talk. No, he wasn't going to do anything brash; he was merely going to confront Nikodemos.

As he walked down the streets of Skopje, he knew exactly where Nikodemos would be. It was the same old bar that he always hung around in, antisocial or not. Once he arrived at the place, he immediately spotted the black-haired Macedonian sitting at a table in the corner of the room, smoking a cigarette and messing with the label on a bottle of beer.

He approached the Macedonian, and as Nikodemos spotted him he stood and started to walk away, but Branko grabbed his arm and forced the younger man to look at him.

"Ah, ah. No you don't. Why're you avoiding me, Niko?" The Montenegrin questioned, tilting his head slightly to one side.

"Dzhenem da ojsh, Branko." Nikodemos glared into the eyes of his former lover with vindictiveness as his native language rolled off his tongue.

"What? Niko, why're you so hostile? What did I ever do to you?" A slightly shocked Branko asked. Nikodemos scoffed and pulled his arm free of Branko's hand.

"Do you not realize that we're no longer together? Why do you still care about me?" The Macedonian responded. Branko's shoulders lowered and he sighed, shaking his head with a smile on his face.

"That's what this is about, Niko? Me still caring about you after we've been broken up for a year?"

Nikodemos crossed his arms and turned his head away. "Yes, it is. I don't understand why you're so clingy. We broke up; why the hell don't you move on?"

"Niko, I don't think you realize that you're the one who broke up with me. I still care profoundly for your wellbeing."

"Well stop, because I've stopped caring about you. I stopped caring a long time ago."

"Oh please, Nikodemos. We all know that you didn't really want to break up with me."

"Shut the fuck up, Branko. You know how this is going to end; I'm not running back to you." Nikodemos pressed a pointed finger to the chest of the Montenegrin in front of him.

"You don't have to, Nikodemos. I'm not trying to get you back in a relationship with me; I'm just worried about you. Are you depressed or something? Lose your job? Anything?" Branko asked. Nikodemos' eyes narrowed and he dropped his hand slowly.

"Fuck off, Branko. It's none of your business."

"Ah, so I said one of the causes of this sudden extreme antisocial mood of yours?"

"I said fuck off, kopile." Nikodemos turned and headed out the door, quickly followed by Branko, who once again grabbed a hold of the Macedonian's arm and turned him to face his former lover. He then placed both his hand on the shoulders of the younger man and stared him dead in the eyes.

"Tell me what's wrong, Niko. Please; it's all I'll ever ask of you again. I promise."

"Odi po djavolite."

"Niko… Enough of the hostility, please. You're really worrying me." Branko moved his hands down and grabbed the Macedonian's wrists, earning a sharp inhalation of pain from the younger man. He gave Nikodemos a confused look, then reached down and lifted up the sleeve covering the man's left wrist.

What he saw stunned him. Lines of hardly-scabbed cuts adorned the pale skin of the Macedonian's wrist.

"Niko…" Branko glanced up into the ice-blue eyes of his former lover. "… Why…?"

"Ti ma zajabe magare edno… Do you have any idea how hard it was for me to leave you? You were too much for me to handle… When I left you, I was the one who fell apart. I was the one who hurt. Yesterday was the anniversary of the day I broke up with you. All I could do was wish that I had never loved you… You fucked me over, Branko… I can't stop thinking of you now; I can't focus at work, and I can't think straight. I'll be lucky to keep my job…"

"Hurting yourself isn't going to help you, Nikodemos… It'll only make things worse."

"How the hell do you suppose I solve this then? It's not like math; I can't just do it in my head."

"If you miss me, it's as simple as letting go of your hostility and coming back where you belong."

"And where is that?"

"With me, Nikodemos. You know I'll always welcome you with open arms…"

"I promised myself I wouldn't run back to you, Branko."

"Then I'll run back to you. Nikodemos, you're all I had when we were together. I've been alone for a year, and I still haven't gotten over you… I really loved you. And I still do. You know I'll take you back."

Nikodemos sighed a bit, and then surprisingly, hugged the Montenegrin man close. Branko smiled and wrapped his arms around the younger Macedonian, placing a soft kiss to the side of his face.

"Oh God, Branko… I'm so sorry…" Nikodemos apologized, hands tightly clutching the fabric of Branko's shirt.

"Ljubov, don't beat yourself up about it… I'll always forgive you. What do you say we head to your place and talk about things, alright? Talking always helps me." Branko gently stroked his fingers across the pale cheek of the other man, who merely nodded in response.

When the two made it to Nikodemos' small apartment, Branko now became a witness to the despair that the Macedonian had been living through. The place was a mess; beer bottles were scattered about, along with cigarette butts and dirty articles of clothing.

Branko took a seat on the couch, and was soon joined by Nikodemos, who curled up closely to the older man. Branko, like the caring man he had always been, wrapped an arm around his shoulders and pulled him close. Nikodemos lay a hand on the Montenegrin's chest softly, before beginning to speak.

"You can probably tell that I haven't been doing well just by the way my place looks…"

"Yeah… But now I'm here to help you. Just talk to me, Nikodemos… What's been on your mind for the past year?" Branko asked. Nikodemos took a moment to think of how to articulate his words before letting them flow.

"… Ever since I left you, I've wondered how I could possibly continue. I blamed you; or at least I tried to. I was so fucking selfish... I didn't want to carry any baggage and I wanted to let it all go… I wanted to not love you anymore; I pretended that you had been the one to do me wrong… But God, it fucking hurt when I realized how I had screwed up everything… That's when I started…"

"Cutting yourself?"

"Yes… I-I just wanted to feel something; anything that could possibly fill that void in my chest… But it wasn't enough; I found myself doing it more and more, and I started caring less and less for myself. I smoked more, I stopped doing important things…"

"Like work."

"Yes… My boss has threatened to fire me, but I just can't pick myself up… Branko, I hope you realize how much I felt for you… I-I wish that I could take you back easily, but… God, I just don't know how… Nothing is ever e-easy anymore; why the hell did I do this to myself, Branko? Why did I let myself get this out of control? I-I'm losing my mind… Branko, I can't stand being without you. M-My heart tells me that you're the only thing that I-I'll ever have, but my mind says to get away; just get the hell away from you… I-I listened to my mind for the longest time; now that I want to listen to my heart, i-it's so hard! I've been so ignorant of what I need!"

"And what is that you need?"

"I-I need you, Branko… I need you so fucking much, it hurts… Y-You're all that I have, and all that I've ever had… I-I just wish that I hadn't screwed up so bad; how c-could you take me back? I-I know that you've cared forever, but I just… I don't know what to do anymore… Y-You're so much more than me; you're more than I can handle…"

By now, Nikodemos was practically breaking down, clinging to the Montenegrin.

"How is that so, Nikodemos? How have I been too much for you to handle?" Branko questioned, tenderly rubbing the back of the younger man with a gentle hand.

"You love me more than I can ever return; Branko, my feelings have been s-so contorted in my head… I-I don't know how to return affection; hugging you earlier was hard to do. I-It's like there's a-a fight inside me that just rages on and on… I don't know what to do anymore, Branko… P-Please… Help me…"

"Well… We can start with you just letting it all out, Niko… Cry as long as you want. I'm not going anywhere."

The Macedonian broke into heavy sobs, face buried into the chest of the older Montenegrin, who simply kept his arms wrapped softly around Nikodemos, comforting him in whatever way possible.

After what must have been at least fifteen minutes of crying, Nikodemos' sobs died down to mere shudders and whimpers. Branko delicately wiped away newly emerging tears with his sleeve, placing an ever-so soft kiss to the fragile Macedonian's forehead.

"What… What about you, Branko…? Can you just… t-talk to me?" A slightly quivering voice asked the Montenegrin.

"About what…?"

"Your feelings… Wh-What you've gone through since then… I-I love hearing your voice, Branko… You could say anything, really…"

Branko chuckled lightly and shifted his position so that he was just that bit closer to the Macedonian.

"Well… I can't say I've had it easy, but I've had it easier than you… When we broke up, I was devastated. I couldn't just stop caring like we had never been together. I never have stopped caring, as you've most likely concluded… I've managed to maintain my cheery self, but inside I've hurt quite a bit… I love you, Nikodemos. So, so, so much… Being without you tore me apart more than I expected… I couldn't move on; it wasn't a fight inside for me. I knew I had to make sure you were alright. I knew I could love you, even if it was unrequited… It's just the kind of man I am, I suppose…"

"It's the kind of man I fell in love with two years ago…"

"Yeah…" Branko said with a smile.

"… Hey Branko…?"

"Da, Nikodemos?"

"… Could I… Could I kiss you?"

Branko let out a hearty chuckle and grinned. "You don't have to ask, Niko."

Nikodemos smiled slightly and reached up, placing a hand on the back of the Montenegrin's neck and pulling him into a light kiss. Their lips remained together for a few seconds, before Nikodemos pulled away slightly. He then turned towards the Montenegrin more, pulling him into another kiss, this one needier than the last.

Branko smiled into the embrace, returning it with a renewed passion. With each moment that went by, their actions became more intimate and longing, hands grazing exposed skin, kisses moving down to necks and collars.

Branko turned over so that he was on top of the younger man, staring him in the eyes.

"Is this helping you, ljubov?" He questioned.

"Yes. Now shut up and kiss me, Branko."

"This is one of the reasons I love you, Niko."

"Hey, what did I just say?"

"I know, I know. You just look so cute when you want me."

"Just shut up, Branko…" With that, the Macedonian pulled the older man down into a passionate kiss.

How sweet forgiveness was.