-Elias Grayson:
"Eli, come over here," my father called, gesturing toward the guests. "I want you to meet some very old friends of mine."
I stepped forward, eyes flicking between my father and the towering figure sitting quietly in the corner. My father's friends and his wife were talking and laughing easily, the kind of comfort that comes from years of history.
"This is Marcus," my father said, extending a hand, "and this is his wife, Celeste."
Marcus's handshake was firm, warm, and reassuring, and Celeste's smile was effortless, the kind that made you feel immediately at ease.
"We've known each other for decades," my father said, a faint sadness in his voice. "Back in the day, we were inseparable, but… for unfortunate reasons, they had to leave the Grayson Pack." He glanced at Marcus, and Marcus gently patted his shoulder.
"Yes," Marcus said softly, "circumstances forced us to leave, but we made our pack here safe by leaving. It's been a long time coming to finally visit again."
I listened, intrigued. "You… kept us safe?" I asked.
Marcus smiled proudly. "Yes. We'd love to have you visit our home someday. You know, Eli… I held you when you were just a kid." He changed the subject. Nobody is answering the question. Why did they leave our pack in the first place?
I blinked, surprised. "You held me?"
Marcus reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a small photograph. "Look at this. I still have a picture of you with my son."
I leaned forward to see the picture, and my eyes went wide. "That's… me?"
"Yes," Marcus said, nodding. "And this"—he gestured toward the corner where the massive figure sat quietly—"is my son, Sebastian."
I finally looked at him. The source of that powerful, intimidating scent. He was enormous, broad shoulders, long black hair cascading to mid-back, a scar cutting from his hairline down through his eye and cheek to his jaw. Tattoos covered his body, his tight shirt clinging to muscles that seemed almost too large for his frame, cargo pants, combat boots, bracelets circling his wrists, and a leather jacket resting beside him. A delicate silver necklace hung at his throat, oddly soft and girly against the rest of his imposing appearance.
Sebastian didn't look up until my father said gently, "Sebastian, come say hello to Eli."
His eyes met mine, expression unreadable, calm. Then, his voice low but clear, he said, "Hello… it's nice to see you... Again." He glanced at the photograph Marcus had shown and chuckled softly, holding out his hand.
I hesitated for a moment, then took it. "Nice to see you too again… I don't remember much from back then."
He smiled faintly, a small, almost shy movement for someone so large and intimidating. "Me neither, we were 9 months old in that picture." he added simply.
We sat together, Marcus and Celeste chatting with my dad and mom, their voices filled with the ease of old friends reconnecting. Sebastian stayed mostly quiet, sometimes letting his long hair brush over the scar, subtly hiding it, yet never withdrawing completely. I watched him carefully. My father trusted these people—Marcus, Celeste, and their son—so I had to trust them too.
I cleared my throat and shifted a little closer to Sebastian. "You'd be twenty-one, right? Just like me?"
He nodded quietly. "Yes… twenty-one."
"Same here," I said, trying to sound casual. "So… do you go to university?"
"I do," he replied softly, glancing at me. "Computer engineering."
"No way," I said, eyes lighting up. "I do computer science. That's… close enough, right?"
He gave the smallest, shy smile. "Close enough."
I laughed lightly. "Sorry, I know I talk a lot. I love meeting people… You don't seem like you talk much."
"No… I don't," he said, quiet, careful with his words. "But I… I try when it matters."
"Well, it matters now, doesn't it?" I said with a grin.
"Yeah," he admitted softly, the corners of his lips twitching into a faint smile.
"So… what kind of projects are you working on? Something exciting?" I asked, leaning a little closer.
"I… I build programs," he said, hands fidgeting with the silver necklace at his throat. "Mostly… logic programs. Small ones."
"That's impressive," I said. "I've tried coding stuff before, but most of it crashes within minutes." I chuckled. "You must be really patient."
He nodded slowly. "I am… I like structure. Things that make sense."
"That makes sense," I said, grinning. "I like that too. Chaos isn't my thing either."
"So, hobbies?" I pressed, leaning back. "Outside school… what do you like to do?"
He hesitated, then murmured softly, "Reading… walking… sometimes sketching."
"You sketch?" I asked, genuinely interested. "What kind of things?"
"People… landscapes… animals," he said quietly, brushing his long hair slightly over the scar on his face. "I… like details."
"That's really cool," I said, smiling. "I'd like to see sometime."
He was silent for a second, clenching his hand as if he were forcing himself to speak. Then he looked up at me and asked, "What about you? What do you like to do in your free time?"
My face lit up, a wide grin spreading across it. "I like hanging out with friends, exploring the territory, running, just… talking, honestly. Meeting people, learning about them… stuff like that."
He nodded, eyes attentive, listening as if he really cared.
"Honestly," I said, leaning a little closer, "you are way nicer than you look—" I slapped my forehead quickly. "No, no, I don't mean it like that. I just… when I got here, I thought you'd be this scary, impossible guy, but you're… really nice."
He gave me the smallest, genuine smile. "Thank you, Elias."
For the first time, I saw him relax completely. His posture softened, his hair fell naturally instead of shielding his face, and his eyes—those sharp, intimidating eyes—finally felt warm, approachable.
I smiled back at him, feeling the conversation flow naturally. We talked about programming, favorite books, small hobbies… easy, casual, comfortable. It was remarkable, and I couldn't stop noticing how attentive he was.
At one point, I glanced up—and froze.
My dad was watching us from across the room, leaning back with a satisfied little smile, like a man who had just watched his plan unfold perfectly. Beside him, my mom was smiling too. Celeste's eyes sparkled like she knew a secret, and Marcus looked like he was trying not to burst into laughter.
They weren't even hiding it.
They were all watching us.
What the hell?
It felt like I'd walked into a scene I didn't have the script for. Like they knew something I didn't. Like they were waiting. Testing. Hoping. Planning.
Why?
That's weird, I swallowed hard, turning back to Sebastian. He wasn't looking at them—he was watching me. Quiet, steady, patient. His dark eyes seemed warmer up close, like amber near a flame, not nearly as frightening as he looked at first glance.
I forced a smile and leaned forward again, choosing to ignore the audience our families had become. "So anyway—what got you into engineering? Because if it was the math, you're braver than I am."
And just like that, his shoulders loosened. He chuckled then answered. I listened.
I talked. He listened.
Two strangers, side by side, pretending not to feel the weight of our parents' eyes on us.