Today was a special day for Denis. He woke up much earlier than usual, though he had tossed and turned all night, going over the details in his mind. Dozens of scenarios played in his head: how they would meet, what they would talk about, how he would keep everything under control. It had to be perfect. The two most important people in his life—his beloved partner and his best friend Alex—were finally going to meet.

His room was bathed in the warm light of the morning sun. Denis sat in front of the mirror, carefully lining his eyes, drawing a thin line with the eyeliner. He always put his heart into his appearance—not to hide himself, but to emphasize who he wanted to be. A light layer of powder, a touch of highlighter on the inner corners of his eyes—he tilted his head, admiring the glow on his skin, and smiled at his reflection. Today he wanted to shine.

He was so nervous that he changed his shirt several times: one was too bright, another too plain. In the end, he chose a pink shirt and short denim shorts. He wanted to look stylish yet approachable—so that his partner could be proud of him, and Alex wouldn't feel a distance.

The door creaked open, and his partner walked into the room. Denis froze for a moment, blinking in surprise, and then his cheeks instantly flushed with warmth.

"God, darling, you look incredible," slipped out of him, his voice trembling with sincerity.

He jumped up, stepped closer, and wrapped his arms around their waist, inhaling the familiar scent that always made his head spin a little. His lips brushed their neck—he always sought this contact, as if afraid they might disappear without it. But even in that moment, the nervousness didn't let go.

"Shame we already have to go," he sighed dramatically, pulling away a little, though his heart begged to stay in that moment longer.

**

They met Alex at McDonald's. Denis hadn't chosen the place by accident—it was simple, familiar, somewhere everyone felt equal. He didn't want either of them to feel tense. But in the end, the only one who felt tense was him.

The conversation just wouldn't flow. At first there were light words, a few jokes, attempts to find common ground. Denis tried hard, sincerely doing his best to make sure no one stayed silent too long. It mattered to him that his partner felt like they were truly part of his circle, and that Alex didn't feel pushed aside. But the result was the opposite.

Alex casually mentioned a book, his partner picked it up, and soon the two were talking so animatedly that Denis felt left out. He sat with his elbows on the table, cheek resting on his hand. Their voices merged into a stream filled with names and titles that meant nothing to him. Inside, he shrank with hurt, but outwardly he just pouted and chewed his fries with feigned indifference.

"Stupid books." he thought, though he knew the real problem wasn't them. He just hated being in the shadow. It seemed to him that his partner was looking at Alex with the same admiration she should have been giving him.

At the mall, things got worse. Denis walked alongside them, trying to create little moments: cracking jokes, brushing his partner's hand, suggesting shopping ideas. He even stopped at a jewelry display and whispered softly:

"Let's buy matching bracelets..."

But his partner didn't hear him. They were too caught up in conversation with Alex. Denis's heart tightened, and the irritation quickly melted into bitter sadness. In his mind, he saw himself with drooping puppy ears and a tail—that was exactly how he felt. He didn't want to be angry. He just wanted their attention.

**

When they finally said goodbye to Alex, the atmosphere between him and his partner shifted. Denis walked with his eyes on the ground, silent, shut away inside his own thoughts. They tried to talk to him, touched his hand, but he didn't respond. His heart ached, and the only way he knew to protect himself was to keep quiet.

The walk home felt endless. Their shared home was filled with silence. His partner tried again to speak, but he only shrugged or didn't react at all. Denis hated himself for it, yet he couldn't force himself to act differently. He wanted them to understand on their own just how much he was hurting.

Eventually they ended up on the bed. The air was thick with unspoken words. Denis lay staring at the ceiling, feeling his chest tighten with bitterness. He couldn't hold it in any longer.

Without saying a word, he turned over and buried his face in his partner's chest, wrapping his arms around their waist. He was searching for warmth, for comfort, though on the outside he still tried to look angry. He didn't need explanations or books—he just needed them.