Though he’d only been gone for a little over two weeks, the loft already felt alien, if not outright hostile. The interior was mostly black and white and chrome, sterile without much trace of personality. There were a large few paintings that’d been hung up, likely worth thousands of dollars, but they had minimal brushstrokes and barely any color; Mitch never gave them much consideration until now, but he hated them.

It was nothing like Jodie’s place, a patchwork of various knickknacks and mementos, each item large and small alike holding some sentimental value. There were no tan and orange crochet throws that dated back from the 1970s strewn across the back of the hideous olive sofa, nor were there tiles on the kitchen walls with various fruits and vegetables that’d been hand painted onto them. There were no mushroom shaped ceramic canisters, or a jungle’s worth of houseplants, or even a velvet Jesus. The warmth he’d grown accustomed to in a short period was absent, and the cold here was blinding.

“Oh no, your arm,” came Calvin’s voice from across the room, smooth as a serpent about to offer a forbidden apple. He approached them with an infuriating placidity, as though he hadn’t been the root cause as to why Mitch’s entire life had been upended.

“Yup,” Mitch kept it curt, and with each step that Calvin took towards him, the fingers of his left hand curled into a tight fist and pressed so hard that his nails dug into the palm. The instinct to make jokes at his own expense was overwhelming, as was the urge to scream about what he’d gone through and how being abandoned had been nothing short of devastating, but instead he kept his feet anchored to his spot and said nothing.

Calvin circled him only once, observing and making god-only-knew what type of judgment, before settling in front of him and Avi. He smelled great, Mitch noted, and his dark hair was pulled up into a loose bun, exposing high cheek bones and a long throat and flawless olive skin that’d made Mitch a weak man once upon a time. Even now, seeing his face and this proximity between them, caused a cacophony of emotions to surface and threaten to spill over. He thought he’d steeled himself well enough in preparation, but the way that his body went rigid and his eyes prickled made it clear that his efforts were for nothing. There were no man-made barriers that could prevent the storm surge of a hurricane, and all that he could do was hope that the erosion left in its wake would be minimal and easy to recover.

“So who’s your friend? I don’t believe we’ve met,” Calvin extended a hand to Avi, a Cartier watch adorning his slender wrist; casual house wear, Mitch internally scoffed.

“Don’t-” Mitch spoke up, but was cut off.

“Avi,” Avi took the hand and shook it, much to Mitch’s chagrin. He should have asked Louis to help out with this task instead, someone capable of being cold and frightening when needed. Or maybe he could have taken advantage of Nate’s large stature and even bigger heart, although he would have gotten an earful later from Jodie about leading him on. Again.

“I take it you’re one of his wrestler friends?” Calvin commented, the subtle barb not lost on Mitch.

“I am!” Avi smiled brightly, and Mitch prayed that he hadn’t picked up on the insinuation. “We’re roommates, actually. Just moved in not too long ago.”

“Oh, at Jodie’s? Was there room at the inn?” As Calvin spoke, Mitch couldn’t tell if his brain was leaking out of his ear canal or not. He hadn’t come for chit chat, and he had to remind himself that Calvin had dumped him over the phone, the night after his injury. He hadn’t done anything whatsoever to be of any assistance. They weren’t together anymore. He wasn’t entitled to anything in his life. His blood boiled over when Calvin asked, “How is Jodie, by the way?”

“She’s great. Where’s- Calv, where’s my stuff?” Mitch’s teeth gnashed; he was done with pleasantries.

“Living room,” Calvin hitched a thumb over his shoulder, and Mitch practically bolted in that direction. “But it was a long drive, yeah? Can I offer you something to drink?”

“No,” Mitch gritted out. He spotted several plastic totes stacked up, with items that’d been haphazardly tossed into them. Truth be told, he was amazed that any effort was put into gathering them up at all, but he knew that it was more of a testament to Calvin’s irritation than anything else. A wave of relief washed over him as he spotted a few familiar things, but he didn’t dare show any emotion over it.

Wordlessly, Avi grabbed two of the totes, and wasted no time in heading back to the door with them. “Do you need a hand?” Calvin stopped him and asked before he exited.

“Nope, all set!” Avi answered, then disappeared into the hallway. The moment that he was gone, a wave of dread washed over Mitch as he stood in the livingroom, alone with Calvin.