Thread of fate

Sky leaned against the hotel balcony.

He stared at the city lights flickering beneath him, his jaw tight.  

He hadn't seen Nani for days.  

That persistent guy who had chased him like a shadow, begging him to stop smoking, verge of crying as if his whole world would collapse if Sky destroyed himself—  

Gone.  

At first, Sky had scoffed.  

*"Finally, that crazy dude got tired."*  

But the silence gnawed at him more than he cared to admit nani isn't following him for a quiet long.  

Every night, he brought someone new to the hotel—girls, boys—whoever threw themselves into his arms first.  

He never touched them.  

Instead, he led them to the small kitchen inside the suite, voice cold and detached.  

*"Cook something for me."*  

They always blinked, confused, but did what he asked.  

Sky sat at the table, watching every movement—the way they chopped vegetables, stirred soup, plated the food.  

Every bite tasted the same.  

Wrong.  

He couldn't remember his mother's cooking—he had been too young when she died—but something in his bones still recognized the emptiness.  

Sky had everything but the only thing Sky ever craved was warmth.  

But no one could give it to him.  

No one had ever really *tried.*  

Until Nani.  

*"You're my world."*  

Sky clenched his jaw, the memory slicing through him like a knife.  

His heart twisted painfully.  

That night in the bar... the way Nani had looked at him, as if Sky was the only person in the whole universe—  

It wasn't a trick.  

Sky *knew* it wasn't.  

Yet Nani was gone.  

Sky flicked the cigarette between his fingers, frustration bubbling under his skin.