Avery had been lying in bed the night before, and he’d taken his headphones off to be greeted by the sound of muffled sobs. Again. As quiet as Armaan thought he was being, when the walls were made of paper, it wasn’t quiet enough. Plus he was going around with a face like a wet weekend -long and soggy- and it wasn’t hard to see something had happened between him and Freddie.
Avery was making ramen in the kitchen when Armaan came home and dropped everything in the living room, followed by his tie a moment later. It looked like he was going back to hole up in his room again. Nobody could say that Avery was the most communicative of men, but at least he could tell when he had to speak up. He cleared his throat loudly before Armaan could vanish.
“I’m making garlic butter noodles, you want some?” he called. It was the first thing he could think of that might stop Armaan’s retreat, and now he’d have to get another packet of noodles out if Armaan said yes.