They sat on the couch. Far from each other. Far from temptation. On opposite ends they stared into each other's eyes, enough to pull them as together as they needed to be. As they used to be.
Ryohei broke away from this gaze.
"So, I heard you're staying with Takeshi-kun," Ryohei said.
"Yeah," was Gokudera's flimsy reply. A pause. Longer than their old conversations had. They both remember those beats in their conversations. Silence filled with hand holding, the quickest kiss, hopes for a bright future where this feeling lasts forever.
"Where's Hana and the baby?" Gokudera asks before he remembers too much. Before he begs for it all back.
Hana and the baby. Concrete things – no – people to shove their dead love in their faces. To tell them to stop, block their hearts from falling back into each other's paths in this twisted game of romantic chess.
"We…" Ryohei questioned whether or not he should tell Gokudera. Something forced him to say it. Some sick desire that the reaction would be pleading or skin to skin or something of what once was. "We got into an argument. She took the baby and is staying with her mother."
Ryohei's wish was granted.