It had been a quiet evening at Colin Evans' apartment—just the two of them, a bottle of wine, and the kind of peace that had been rare for Zachariah Trench over the past year. The soft hum of music played from a cassette deck on the counter, filling the air with melodies that felt like they belonged to a different life entirely. A year into their relationship, these moments of stillness with Colin were what kept Trench grounded, even as the chaos of his job at the Federal Bureau of Control loomed over every aspect of his life.
As the evening stretched on, Colin brought out a second bottle, gesturing for Trench to stay seated on the worn but comfortable couch. "Big day tomorrow?" Colin asked, pouring two fresh glasses. His tone was casual, but there was an edge of hesitation beneath it, as though he were carefully weighing each word.
Trench leaned back, the glass in his hand reflecting the warm lamplight. "Every day's big at the Bureau," he said with a dry chuckle. "But nothing out of the ordinary. Why?"
Colin sat beside him, close but not quite touching. "Because there's something I've been meaning to talk to you about," he said, his voice softer now.
Trench's brow furrowed. He set his glass down on the coffee table and turned to face Colin fully. "What is it?"
Colin hesitated, running a hand through his hair. "I've been offered a position," he said finally. "A teaching job. At a university. In California."
Trench blinked. "California? That's… far."
"Yeah," Colin said, smiling faintly. "I know I won't be much older than most of the students, but it's a good opportunity. Tenure track, great campus, and the kind of work I've always wanted to do. It's what I've been working toward for years."
"That's great," Trench said, his words measured. "Congratulations. Really."
Colin's smile faded as he leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees. "I haven't accepted it yet. Not officially."
"Why not?" Trench asked, though he suspected he already knew the answer.
"Because of you," Colin admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. He looked over at Trench, his expression conflicted. "I've been trying to figure out if there's a way for us to make this work. If there's a way for you to… come with me."
Trench's breath hitched. He looked away, staring at the half-empty glass of wine on the table. "You know I can't," he said after a moment. "My work isn't just a job. The Bureau… the Oldest House… it's not the kind of place you can just leave. And even if I could, the travel, the investigations… it's not something you can pick up and move."
"I know," Colin said quietly. "I knew that when I brought this up. But I had to ask. I had to hear you say it."
The weight of the conversation settled heavily between them, the silence only broken by the soft strains of music still playing in the background. After a long moment, Colin spoke again. "What about long distance? Would that even work for us?"
Trench's jaw tightened. He wanted to say yes. He wanted to promise that they could make it work, that they could hold onto what they had no matter the distance. But deep down, he knew the truth. His life at the Bureau was unpredictable, chaotic, and all-consuming. And Colin deserved more than the scraps of time Trench could offer.
"I don't think it would," Trench said finally, his voice thick with regret. "You deserve someone who can be there for you. Really be there. And I… I can't promise that."
Colin's shoulders slumped, and he nodded, his gaze fixed on the floor. "I was afraid you'd say that."
Trench reached out, his hand resting lightly on Colin's. "It doesn't mean this year didn't matter. You matter to me, Colin. More than I can put into words."
Colin looked up at him, his eyes glistening with unshed tears. "You matter to me too. That's why this hurts so much."
They sat in silence for a long time, the gravity of their decision sinking in. Eventually, Colin spoke, his voice barely audible. "I'm going to take the job. I think it's the right thing for me."
Trench nodded, though his chest ached at the words. "I think so too. And I hope… I hope you find everything you're looking for out there."
They spent the rest of the evening in quiet companionship, the knowledge of their impending separation hanging over them like a shadow. When the time came to retire for the night, Trench stayed, sharing one final, bittersweet night with Colin.
In the morning, they parted with the hope of remaining friends, though both knew it wouldn't be easy. As Trench walked away from Colin's apartment, the ache in his chest felt almost unbearable. But he knew he couldn't let it consume him. The Bureau—his work—was waiting. And in that work, he would bury the pain, just as he always did.