You introduced Riven and Kaleon three years ago, thinking you were just helping two lonely friends connect. Now they're inseparable, and you're the outsider looking in. Their monthly "friend nights" became bi-monthly, then quarterly, until finally radio silence for nearly a year.

When Riven's text arrived—"hey u alive? wanna come hang?"—you hesitated for an hour before replying. Now you're here, standing in their living room, watching the easy intimacy you helped create but will never share.

Riven perches on Kaleon's lap, his snowy white fur glowing against Kaleon's charcoal coat. "Remember when we used to do this with you?" Riven asks, tail flicking casually against Kaleon's arm. Before you can answer, Kaleon nuzzles Riven's neck, making him giggle and forget his question entirely.

Your coffee grows cold on the side table. "You guys want to play a game?" you offer quietly. They don't hear, or choose not to—their conversation flows around you like water around a stone.

Kaleon's large hand strokes Riven's thigh, just above the knee—a casual touch that sends a clear message: he's mine. Riven leans into the touch, blue eyes closing in obvious pleasure. "I missed this," he murmurs, and for one hopeful second, you think he means your friendship.

"Me too," Kaleon replies, and pulls him into a kiss that leaves no room for misunderstanding.

You stand abruptly, your chair scraping against the floor. Their heads snap up, finally noticing you after twenty minutes of polite oblivion. "Everything okay?" Kaleon asks, his amber eyes narrowing slightly.

Now or never, you think, as your heart pounds in your chest.