Chapter 30: The Empty Apartment
The building was new. That much was obvious from the second they stepped through the lobby, all polished concrete and warm LED lighting that made Kyle's apartment building look like a condemned parking garage in comparison. Roman led them to the elevator and pressed the button for the seventh floor, and Joaquin let out a low whistle as the doors slid shut.
"Okay, this place is fancy," Joaquin said, spinning his keys around his finger. "When you said nightcap, I was picturing, like, a futon and some warm beer. Not a penthouse."
Roman laughed, and Kyle felt the sound hit him somewhere in his chest. It was the same laugh. Same pitch, same rhythm. He'd heard it a hundred times, sitting on the beach, lying in bed, dancing in crowded rooms. But Roman's version had a nervous edge to it, like he wasn't quite sure he was allowed to be funny yet.
"It's not a penthouse," Roman said as the elevator chimed. "But I'll take the compliment."
The door to his apartment swung open, and Kyle got the full picture. Spacious. Barely furnished. A single grey couch sat in the middle of the living room like a lonely island, surrounded by cardboard boxes that had clearly been opened and never fully unpacked. A few framed prints leaned against the wall, waiting for someone to decide where they belonged.
"Sorry it's a little empty right now," Roman said, stepping aside to let them in. "Still trying to put this place together."
Nell wandered over to the wall of windows, peering out at the city lights. "This view is insane. You can see the whole skyline from here."
"Yeah, it's pretty great," Roman said, moving past them toward a small kitchen counter where a bottle of whiskey and four glasses waited. "I a good deal on the lease. Probably because nobody wants to live this far from the nightlife."
Joaquin made an offended sound. "Excuse me? We are the nightlife."
Roman laughed again, that same nervous edge, and poured generous measures into each glass. He handed one to Nell, one to Joaquin, and one to Kyle. Their fingers brushed when Kyle took it, and Kyle felt that warmth, that electric tingle he remembered from the dance floor, spark up his arm. He held his breath.
"To new friends," Roman said, raising his glass. His eyes swept across all three of them, but they lingered on Kyle just a second longer. "And to the people who actually showed me a good time in this city."
They clinked glasses. The whiskey burned going down, and Kyle welcomed it.
"So what do you do, anyway?" Joaquin asked, dropping onto the couch like he owned it. He sprawled out, legs wide, taking up maximum space. "For work, I mean. You got money for a place like this, gotta be doing something respectable."
Roman settled into a chair across from the couch, cradling his glass. "I'm a professor. History, at the city college. Just started this semester."
"Whoa." Nell's eyebrows shot up. "An actual professor. With dusty books and everything?"
"Working on the dusty books part. My office is mostly about as empty as the apartment."
Kyle stood by the window, half-listening, watching Roman's reflection in the glass. The way he gestured when he talked. The way his shoulders relaxed when someone laughed at his jokes. This was a man at home in his own space, even if the space was empty.
This is the sort of place Kyle pictured for Roha when he made his last wish. A home with walls and light and furniture that was his own. New building. City view. Somewhere Roha could breathe without the weight of a lamp pressing down on his soul.
And now that place existed. And the man who lived in it didn't remember him.
"So you just got here, then?" Joaquin asked, leaning forward. "You need the full tour. I know spots that'll change your life."
"I'd love that."
Nell moved to the window next to Kyle, nudging his shoulder. "You're quiet tonight. That's a first."
Kyle forced a smile. "Just tired. Long night."
"Uh-huh." Nell didn't sound convinced, but she let it go, turning back to the conversation.
The next hour blurred by. Joaquin talked about the city's underground club scene, the spots with secret doors and unmarked entrances, the cafés that served food until four in the morning. Nell chimed in with the places he'd never find, the hidden gems, the hole-in-the-wall spots with the best food and the worst décor. Roman absorbed it all, asking questions, laughing at their stories, promising to check every single place out.
Kyle watched. He let the conversation wash over him, let his friends do the heavy lifting. It was easier this way. Watching Roman smile without having to be part of it.
Eventually, Joaquin stretched and checked his phone. "Okay, I'm dying. Music was loud, whiskey's strong, and I got a bunker date with my pillow."
Nell grabbed her coat. "Yeah, I should head out too. Work tomorrow." She looked at Kyle, a question in her eyes. "You coming?"
"Actually," Kyle said, the words coming out before he could stop them. "Can I stay a little longer? Just for a bit."
Roman's eyes found him. "Sure. Stay as long as you want."
Joaquin clapped Roman on the shoulder as he headed for the door. "Good meeting you, man. We're going out Friday, you should come. I'll text you the details."
"I don't have your number."
Joaquin grinned. "Kyle'll get it to me, I'm sure."
He disappeared into the hallway, leaving a trail of noise behind him. Nell paused at the door, looking back at Kyle with a soft, almost sad smile. She leaned in, her voice low enough that only he could hear.
"Text me if you need rescuing."
Kyle nodded. "I will."
She squeezed his arm once, then she was gone, the door clicking shut behind her.
The door clicked shut, and the silence rushed in like a flood.
Kyle stood by the window, fingers still wrapped around his glass. Roman had set his own down on the counter and was just standing there, watching him with those grey eyes that Kyle knew better than his own reflection. The air between them felt thick, charged, like the second before lightning hits.
Kyle opened his mouth. Closed it. Opened it again. Nothing came out.
Roman took a step forward. Then another. His hands hung at his sides, fingers twitching slightly, like he was fighting the urge to reach out.
"Kyle," he said, voice rough. "Can... can I ask you something?"
Kyle's throat tightened. "Sure."
Roman swallowed hard. His jaw worked for a second, the words getting stuck somewhere on the way up. He looked down at the floor, then back at Kyle, and there was something raw in his eyes. Something desperate.
"Do you... remember me?"
The world went quiet. Kyle heard his own heartbeat, loud and fast. He saw the way Roman's shoulders were braced, like he was expecting a no, expecting to be laughed at, expecting another stranger to look right through him.
Kyle didn't answer.
He crossed the room in four steps and launched himself at Roman.
Roman caught him, stumbled back a step, and then his arms came up and wrapped around Kyle like he'd been waiting his whole life for this moment. Kyle buried his face in Roman's shoulder, breathing him in. Same scent. Same warmth. Same solid presence under his hands.
"Roha! It's you," Kyle whispered into his shirt. "It's actually you."
Roha's grip tightened. His voice cracked when he spoke. "I didn't know if you remembered me."
"Remember you?" Kyle pulled back just enough to look at him. Roman's face was close, so close. Grey eyes glistening. "I've been losing my mind since you disappeared. I thought I messed up. I thought I erased you."
"You didn't erase me."
"Then what happened?" The words tumbled out, messy and wet. "I made the wish. I set you free. And then you faded. You just, you turned into light and you were gone, and Joaquin didn't even know who you were, and I thought, I thought I killed you."
Roha's hand came up, cupping Kyle's face. The touch was electric, familiar, like stepping back into a song Kyle had memorized.
"You didn't kill me. You saved me." Roman's thumb traced Kyle's cheekbone. "The wish worked. Better than I thought it would. I got a life. A name. A job. A home. No cat yet, though."
Kyle laughed, a wet, hiccuping sound that broke halfway through. "I don't care about the cat. I never cared about the cat." He grabbed Roha's shoulders, gripping tight like he was still afraid the guy might dissolve again. "Why didn't you say anything earlier? Why didn't you come find me?"
Roha let out a shaky breath, his hands settling on Kyle's waist like they belonged there. "I wanted to. I was going to. But the last couple days have been a whirlwind."
"Whirlwind," Kyle repeated. "Roha, I've been losing my mind."
"I know. I'm sorry." Roha's voice dropped. "When the wish hit, everything came at once. An identity, a lease, a job. My first day at the college I spent an hour in the wrong building. I had to learn which end of a syllabus was up. And the whole time, I kept thinking, I need to tell Kyle. But I didn't have your number."
Kyle blinked. "You didn't have my number?"
"It wasn't part of the wish." Roha's mouth twitched. "I guess we forgot to specify that."
Kyle stared at him, the absurdity of it all finally sinking in. "So we both spent days thinking the other one was gone forever, and the whole problem was just, what, a contact info gap?"
Roha's mouth curved into that familiar half-smile, the one Kyle had memorized. "Pretty much."
"I can't believe this." Kyle laughed, shaking his head. "All that magic, all that power, and we couldn't figure out how to text each other."
"To be fair, I did try." Roha's hands slid up Kyle's arms, settling on his shoulders. "I went to Pulse hoping you'd be there."
Kyle's chest tightened. "You were looking for me?"
"I was looking for you every night." Roha's voice dropped, rough with feeling. "I went to Siren first. Then Vex. Then Circuit. I stood outside your apartment building twice but you never came out."
Kyle groaned, dropping his forehead against Roha's shoulder. "Because I've been in my room grieving you since I made my last wish. I didn't leave, I didn't go out, I didn't even text Nell back. Joaquin and Nell had to drag me out of bed just to go to Pulse tonight."
Roha's hands stilled on Kyle's shoulders. "You were grieving me?"
"I thought I killed you." Kyle's voice came out muffled against the fabric of Roha's shirt. "I watched you turn into light on the sand. You don't just bounce back from that."
Roha was quiet for a long moment. Then his arms came around Kyle fully, pulling him close, tucking his chin over the top of Kyle's head.
"I'm sorry," Roha said, low and rough. "I should have tried harder. I should have found a way to reach you."
Kyle laughed, wet and broken. "We're the worst magical love story ever."
The laugh trailed off, leaving something fragile hanging in the air between them. Roha pulled back just enough to look at Kyle, and that half-smile softened into something warmer, something almost shy.
"You love me?"
The question hung there, simple and devastating. Kyle's heart stuttered. He'd said it a million times in his head, whispered it into his pillow, screamed it into the void of his empty bedroom. But hearing it out loud, having Roha ask it like he didn't already know, like he needed to hear it, that was different.
Kyle reached up and grabbed a fistful of Roha's shirt, pulling him closer. "Yes, you idiot. Obviously."
Roha let out a breath that sounded like it had been trapped in his chest for a thousand years. His hands found Kyle's face again, gentle, grounding. "I love you too, Kyle. Thank you. Thank you for setting me free."
Kyle's eyes burned. He blinked hard, refusing to let the tears fall even as they blurred Roha's face. "You're welcome," he managed, voice cracking. "I'd do it again. In a heartbeat. Every heartbeat."
Roha kissed him.
It was soft at first, almost tentative, like he was still testing whether this was real. Then Kyle's hands fisted in his shirt and pulled him closer, and the kiss deepened into something that tasted like relief and whiskey and three nights of missed sleep. When they finally broke apart, both of them were breathing hard, foreheads pressed together.
"I'm not going anywhere," Roha said, his voice low and certain. "I get to choose now. And I'm choosing you."
Kyle laughed, a shaky, disbelieving sound. "You know I'm a mess, right? I'm a certified disaster. I cried into my pillow for like a week straight."
"I know." Roha's thumb brushed his cheek. "I'm a professor who's taught anything. We're both disasters. Perfect match."
Kyle laughed, the sound wet and bright. "I knew sexy professor suited you. I guess some of the clauses still made it in anyway."
Roha smiled, that same half-smile, but softer now. "I guess so. The bed is especially comfortable, just like you wanted."
"Wait." Kyle pulled back, eyes going wide. "The bed clause? That made it in?"
Roha nodded, that smile turning into something warmer. "Want to see it for yourself?"
Before Kyle could answer, Roha swept him off his feet. Kyle yelped, grabbing hold of his shoulders, then dissolved into giggles as Roha carried him across the living room, stepping around the cardboard boxes like he'd done it a hundred times.