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A loud growl jolted Sunny awake. he was starving. His mother hadn't paid the electricity bill, leaving everything in the fridge to rot. Not that it mattered. Sunny refused to set foot downstairs, no matter how much his stomach protested.
He tried to go back to sleep, slipping under the covers once more and squeezing his eyes shut, but the hunger was unbearable. It gnawed at him, growing sharper with every passing second. Then, as if to make things worse, a loud knock echoed through the house. It was relentless, each pound against the door coming in rapid succession, never slowing.
A headache bloomed behind his eyes. Groaning, he pressed his hands over his face. The knocking felt like a broken record, scratching at his already frayed nerves.
His stomach growled again.
With a sigh, he ripped the covers off and placed his feet on the floor. His legs buckled slightly—weak from disuse. It had been over 24 hours since he last moved, and his body was beginning to feel the effects of malnutrition. He ran a hand through his hair, wincing at the greasy strands and the dandruff flaking onto his fingers.
The pounding at the door resumed.
Annoyance flared in Sunny’s chest as he made his way to the staircase, but the moment he reached it, he froze. His grip tightened around the railing. The world around him blurred as memories surged forward, ones he had tried so desperately to lock away.
The air grew thin. His chest tightened.
The image of her body at the bottom of the stairs flashed in his mind—the sickening crack of bone, the instant, gut-wrenching regret.
"It’s not as scary as you think."
Swallowing hard, he took a step. Then another. He stared at the ceiling, silently hoping he would lose his balance, tumble down just as she had.
Nausea roiled in his stomach. Was it hunger? Fear? Or had they become one and the same?
Somehow, he reached the bottom. His palms were clammy, his breathing unsteady. Then, he remembered—
The door.
The pounding rang in his ears, each knock sending sharp pulses through his skull. Will they shut up already? He furrowed his brows and forced himself forward.
His hand trembled as he gripped the knob, twisting it slowly. He peeked through the small gap, squinting against the harsh sunlight. A tall figure stood just outside, blocking the rays.
Sunny’s breath caught in his throat.
Kel.
His stomach twisted as he met the other's wide-eyed gaze. Kel looked just as shocked, his fist still raised as if prepared to knock again.
For a moment, they just stared. Then, Sunny hesitantly pushed the door open.
Kel stepped back slightly, allowing Sunny to take him in. His hair had grown longer, and he wore an orange jersey with matching basketball shorts. He looked taller too—he had changed in these past four years.
Kel blinked, quickly lowering his hand. He let out a slow breath, as if trying to collect himself.
“S-Sunny! Hey, man.”
His voice was light, but Sunny could see it—the way his eyes traced over him, taking in his frail frame, the disheveled hair, the dark circles beneath his eyes.
Just like Hero, back then.
Sunny felt himself shrink under Kel’s gaze. His shoulders tensed, and heat crept up his neck in embarrassment. He knew how bad he looked, but it had been so long since anyone had seen him. Since anyone had *looked* at him.
"Where's your mom?"
"Not—" Sunny's voice cracked. His throat was dry. "Not here..." His tone was hollow, empty.
Kel scratched the back of his neck awkwardly. "Right. Uh—can I come in?"
Sunny hesitated, then stepped back, allowing Kel inside.
The house was eerily still. Empty, except for the scattered boxes. The air was stale. In just three days, he and his mother would be gone.
Kel glanced around before instinctively walking over to the windows and pulling the blinds open. Light poured into the room, and Sunny winced, squinting against the sudden brightness.
Kel stood there for a while, quiet, as if lost in thought. Then, breaking the silence, he asked, "You hungry?" His tone was casual, but Sunny could tell—this was his way of being careful. Gentle.
Sunny hesitated.
"Yeah? Okay, I'll be right back. I think my mom has some leftovers from last night." Kel grinned, and before Sunny could even think of objecting, he was already slipping out the front door.
---
It felt like hours (though it had only been twelve minutes) when Kel returned. He carried two plates, both covered in tinfoil, forks placed neatly on top.
Kel handed him a plate before sitting down and peeling the foil off his own. “Sorry I took so long. The food was cold—I didn't want you eating cold food.”
Sunny sat across from him, unwrapping his plate. The food was simple—mashed potatoes with a side of macaroni and cheese—but the portion felt daunting.
He watched as Kel dug in without hesitation. His stomach twisted. He was so hungry. His fingers brushed against his ribs, feeling the sharp bones beneath his skin.
He poked at the mashed potatoes with his fork, hesitating.
He felt eyes on him.
Looking up, he met Kel’s stare.
“…Is it the fork?” he was being serious.
Sunny blinked, confused.
Kel elaborated. “I mean, I don’t know what you eat mashed potatoes with, but forks are top-tier. The obvious choice.”
He was so genuine that Sunny couldn't help it—his shoulders shook with dry laughter.
Kel beamed at his reaction, and Sunny, after another moment of hesitation, finally took a small bite.
The taste was warm. Familiar. He hadn't had Kel’s mom’s cooking in years. He knew from experience not to eat too much too fast—his stomach wouldn’t handle it—but he savored every bite. So much better than rotten steak.
(Yeah… he ate rotten steak once. By accident.)
---
Thirty minutes passed.
Kel’s plate was clean. Sunny’s, however, still had a decent amount left.
Kel noticed but didn’t comment. Instead, he leaned back, stretching his arms behind his head. “Y’know, I could come over every day till you move. Bring you food.” He paused. “Only if you want me to, of course.”
Sunny’s throat tightened.
Kel didn’t know. He didn’t know what Sunny had done. What he deserved
He let his head hang low, shame washing over him.
“…Is that a yes?” Kel tilted his head, then smirked. “Not like I’d take no for an answer anyway.”
He stood, grinning softly. Sunny followed suit, though he was frowning.
Kel hesitated, looking like he wanted to say something. Finally, he spoke.
“Sunny, I know we haven’t seen each other in four years, but…” He glanced down, choosing his words carefully. “You’re still my friend. And friends care about each other.”
Sunny swallowed thickly, nodding. “…Yeah.”
Kel checked the clock. “I gotta head out before my ma gets mad.” He smiled. “I’ll be back tomorrow, okay? Every day until you move.”
His gaze dropped to Sunny’s hand.
“High five?”
Sunny hesitated before weakly raising his hand.
“High five.”
Their palms met, but Kel didn’t let go. Instead, he interlocked their fingers and pulled Sunny into a hug.
Sunnys body stiffened in Kels hold, and his heart hammered his against ribcage. He felt awkward yet comfortable. He didn't know whether to pull away or lean in. He closed his eyes and his skin flushed, heat raising to his face. Despite his mind repeating the words no, he shakily hugged back.
I don’t deserve this.
Kel let it linger before stepping away with a soft smile embracing his features. He cleared his throat, “See ya, Sunny.”
Then he was gone, the door shutting behind him.
Sunny stood there, fidgeting with the frayed strings on his vest. Kel’s warmth lingered, but it felt wrong. His care was misplaced.
His gaze drifted to the forgotten plates on the floor.
Of course, Kel left the utensils behind.
He sat back down. His vision blurred. His chest ached.
He didn't even have time to process it.
He was already crying.