His fingers claw at his neck suddenly, scratching and dragging like he’s trying to tear something off.
Something we can’t see.
I shoot to my feet, my heart spiking.
“Lucas—wake up!” Tyler’s voice cracks with panic. The popcorn box hits the floor as he scrambles, grabbing at Lucas, trying to hold him still.
“Oh fuck, fuck, not this again, please—” Tyler’s breath hitches as Lucas thrashes.
Lucas jerks hard like he’s been shocked, eyes flying open—
But they’re wide, glassy, unseeing.
He stares blankly at the ceiling, chest heaving, gasping like he’s drowning in invisible water.
His hands reach for his own throat again, at the collar of his shirt, his skin.
Like it’s crawling.
Like it’s burning.
Like something is still there.
Still hurting him.
“Lucas!” Tyler grabs his face gently but firmly, cradling him like glass. “Hey, hey, breathe—breathe, you’re safe, you’re with me, look at me. Lucas, please!”
Lucas doesn’t respond.
His whole body is shaking, mouth parted in shallow, frantic breaths, his gaze flickering like he doesn’t even recognize where he is.
Like he’s still there. Wherever there is.
And I just stand there.
Frozen.
Because I’ve never seen him like this.
Not Lucas—the boy who always meets my kisses with a blush. The one who eats the dishes I make with joy and gives me that soft, unsure smile like he’s still surprised anyone can be into him.
That boy isn’t here right now.
Right now, he looks hunted.
I drop down beside them, heart pounding like it’s trying to break through my ribs.
Compassion isn’t something I’m built for.
I don’t do soft. I never have.
I don’t know how to be careful with people.
But Lucas… he opens that part of me.
The part I didn’t think existed.
“Lucas,” I say, voice low, steadying even though my insides are anything but. “It’s okay. You’re safe here. Just breathe…”
