---
Morning came quietly.
Soft sunlight filtered through the cracked blinds, glancing off the half-empty tea mug on the counter, the sketchbook left open on the windowsill.
Lucien was already up, standing in the kitchen, hesitating with a spoonful of sugar halfway to his mouth.
Arin walked in, groggy and rumpled, rubbing at his face.
For a moment, Lucien's eyes lit up.
But Arin didn't look at him.
Not even once.
He grabbed his phone, scrolled blankly, poured himself a glass of water, and returned to the bed with not even a nod in Lucien's direction.
The silence slammed harder than words ever could.
Lucien stared after him.
His chest felt hollow.
---
By afternoon, Lucien stopped trying.
No more jokes. No silent touches. No playful sketches.
He didn't even make dinner that night.
The kitchen stayed cold.
Arin came back from wherever he'd been—still not saying where—and paused in the doorway when he smelled… nothing.
No ginger, no garlic, no warmth.
Lucien didn't greet him.
Just sat on the edge of the window ledge, staring out at the sky like it could fix the ache in his chest.
Later that night, Lucien didn't come to bed.
He slept on the floor of the back room. Alone. Facing the wall.
Arin lay awake staring at the ceiling, jaw tight, heart doing that irritating, unfamiliar flutter in his chest again.
---
By the third day, the silence became a war neither of them wanted to admit.
When Arin finally snapped, it wasn't graceful.
He stormed into the back room after hearing Lucien's frustrated sigh echo for the fourth time that hour.
"You big idiot," Arin snapped, arms folded. "What the hell do you want now?"
Lucien blinked.
Arin stood in the doorway like a storm ready to crash. "You look horrible. You're sulking like a kicked puppy. You're walking around like you lost your favorite toy. What do you want from me?!"
Lucien looked down.
Then looked up.
Eyes glassy.
His voice came out small. Fragile.
"You."
Arin froze.
Lucien stepped forward, slow, uncertain.
"I want you," he said again. "I want all of you."
Arin's mouth parted, but no sound came out.
Lucien slowly, hesitantly, took his hands.
Then dropped to his knees.
His fingers curled tightly around Arin's as his head bowed. Like praying. Like begging.
"I know I'm stupid. I know I'm a burden," Lucien whispered. "But I love you. I've never said that to anyone. Not once. But with you… it just happened. You didn't ask for it. I didn't mean to. But every time you look away, it feels like I'm drowning."
Arin stared at him, breath stuck in his throat.
Lucien's voice cracked, lower now. "I'll never bother you. I won't expect anything. You don't have to love me back. I'll stay quiet, I'll cook for you, I'll massage your legs when you're tired. I'll even stop sulking like a child. Just… don't push me away."
He still didn't look up.
Still refused to meet Arin's eyes.
But his hands shook where they held Arin's.
"I'll be good," Lucien whispered. "Like a husband, if you want. Just let me stay by your side."
The words hung heavy in the air.
Desperate.
Raw.
Sincere.
And something inside Arin cracked.
Because this was too much.
Too soft.
Too real.
Too familiar.
He jerked his hands away.
Lucien flinched like he'd been slapped.
"Don't," Arin whispered. "Just… don't."
Lucien's eyes widened, panic rising.
"I'm sorry—"
"No." Arin turned away. "Don't apologize."
Lucien bit his lip. His voice cracked. "Please—"
"I said don't!" Arin shouted.
The silence that followed was thunderous.
Lucien sat frozen on the floor, chest rising and falling with effort. His hands curled in his lap, eyes glistening with shame.
But Arin turned slowly back around.
And what Lucien saw in his face was not rejection.
It was pain.
"Do you think I don't feel it too?" Arin whispered. "Do you think I haven't wanted to kiss you every time you smiled like an idiot? That I didn't start falling the second I found you in the rain?"
Lucien stared.
"But I can't," Arin said, voice trembling. "Because you don't know who I am."
Lucien slowly rose to his feet. "Then tell me."
"No," Arin said quietly. "Because if I do… you'll leave. Or worse—you'll stay, and it'll destroy you."
Lucien stepped closer, gently taking Arin's face in his hands. His thumbs brushed his cheeks like glass.
"I'm stronger than you think."
"You don't know what you're saying."
"I don't care."
And then, without thinking, without asking—
Lucien kissed him.
---
This time it wasn't soft.
It wasn't shy.
It was everything—burning, aching, desperate.
It was the weight of three years of grief slamming against the warmth of a new beginning.
Lucien kissed him like Arin was the air he'd been chasing through smoke. Arin kissed back like he had nothing left to lose.
Their hands tangled in shirts, in hair, in breath.
Lucien lifted Arin slightly by the waist, one arm sliding under the curve of his thighs—like he couldn't help but hold him again, this time wanting to.
Arin's body, soft and plush, pressed into Lucien's chest, legs wrapping loosely around his hips. Lucien shivered with the contact, the feel of Arin's warmth against his hardness.
He didn't push.
Didn't move further.
Because Arin was trembling again—but not from fear.
From memory.
Their kiss broke, lips slick, breath sharp.
Arin collapsed against him, arms wrapping tight, face hidden in Lucien's chest.
"I'm sorry," he whispered.
Lucien shook his head. "Don't be."
They stayed like that.
Pressed together.
Hearts beating.
No more pretending.
No more running.
Just ache.
Just need.
Just them.
---
That night, Arin slept on Lucien's chest again.
But this time, he knew.
He wanted to.
Lucien's fingers stroked his back slowly as sleep took him.
But Arin's mind didn't rest.
It drifted.
Into a dream.
Into her.
---
Blood.
Dripping.
Red and vivid across white silk sheets.
A woman.
Face blurred by tears. Eyes wide with betrayal.
She reached toward him, mouth moving, no sound.
Then blood poured from her eyes.
Down her cheeks.
Down her neck.
Onto her dress.
Her mouth opened wider.
Screaming.
But Arin heard nothing.
Only silence.
And guilt.
And the unmistakable weight of love lost forever.
Arin dreams of the woman he couldn't save his unborn baby… crying blood.
---