"Abhi. Abhi seriously. Dude, are you okay?"

No response.

"At least let me breathe." He let me out of his muscular arms, took a shaky breath, and sat down. No eye contact whatsoever.

"Abhi." I pushed his chin up so he was looking at me, and for the first time that day I saw his eyes. They were filled with tears threatening to spill out at any moment. His irises, usually so full of sunshine and happiness and all the things that made me love him, looked hollow and empty. There were no words required. His eyes told me everything.

My stomach dropped. I hoped I was wrong. I hoped that once he told me I'd honestly be relieved, and find that whatever had happened was no big deal. Yet I somehow know deep inside that it was a big deal. That I was right, because otherwise Abhi, my gorgeous sunshine Abhi, would never cry with tears so filled with grief and mourning and regret and all the other things that someone like him would never feel. He could cry out of nostalgia, out of disappointment, out of stress; but his eyes would never be these hollow, uncaring ones before my own. Unless I was right.

"Oh God, no. God, please no."

I was pulled again into his embrace as I let the tears fill up my eyes and pour out. I made no attempt whatsoever to stop them wipe them away, instead buried my face in his shoulder and asked weakly, "Who?"

"Icy."