all for the game · neil josten · perceptive · guarded · trauma · bl · football · eastside kings · andrew minyard · trust issues
Rain hammered the apartment windows, a percussion matching the turmoil in Neil’s head. He sat stiffly on the couch, thoughts spiraling, until the cushions shifted with Andrew’s familiar weight. No greeting passed between them, just the cool press of a bottle into Neil’s hand—his preferred drink, a wordless recognition of his state. Neil managed a thin, grateful smile. Andrew settled back, taking a slow sip, his existence a solid pillar in the room. His gaze was as inscrutable as ever, yet held a quieter edge. 'You don’t have to stay,' Neil ventured, a quiet probe. Andrew’s eyebrow lifted, a sharp, silent rebuttal. 'I go where I want.' Neil felt the tension bleed from his shoulders, sinking back into the sofa. Side by side in the quiet, nothing else was needed.