Adathan’s features softened as he let go of William’s chin. “I may not know every little thing about you. But what I do know is that I feel safe with you. Safer than I’ve ever felt before.”
Annoyance drained from William’s chest, leaving behind a dull weight that settled low and heavy. Adathan had done nothing wrong. He was merely trying to adapt to his new “master,” all the while pretending to be someone else at William’s request.
“So, you noticed, huh?” William said with a tentative smile. In hindsight, he hadn’t been very subtle in swapping out everything Adathan didn’t seem to like.
“It took me a moment,” Adathan said, resting his cheek against the backrest. “But when I pieced everything together, it made perfect sense.”
William wrinkled his nose. “It’s kind of embarrassing.”
“Is making me happy embarrassing, William?”
“No. Of course not.”
Adathan beamed. “See? Like I said—you’re kinder than most.”
Considering the type of people Adathan had interacted with since birth, William was willing to believe he truly meant it. In comparison, William was probably a saint.
A dangerous feeling rose in his chest—one he was all too willing to hold on to. In Adathan’s eyes, he would never be inadequate. William could simply be himself, with no pressure or expectations, and he’d always be enough.
Adathan rested his head on William’s shoulder. “You make me happy.”
“I’m still not perfect,” William said, extinguishing the feeling before it became too strong. Adathan didn’t exist to flatter his ego. He was an individual, and it was William’s responsibility to treat him as such.
This time, Adathan didn’t reply. William didn’t mind—he doubted this conversation could go anywhere. Even if William were a sadistic piece of shit, Adathan still wouldn’t change his mind.
William focused back on the documentary, drawn in by the birds’ carefree chirps. The wide TV displayed breathtaking images of a sunrise, the early morning sky a stunning tableau of pink and purple in high definition. Diurnal species prepared to hunt for breakfast, while the others found a spot to hide until the sun set again. For some, the cycle began, and for the rest, it came to an end.
Eventually, William would have to go to bed as well, but he couldn’t bring himself to. Not yet. Not with how serene Adathan looked as they both admired the wonders of nature. If Adathan had truly never felt safe before—which wasn’t difficult to believe—he deserved for this moment to last a little longer.
These pockets of peacefulness would be crucial for Adathan to build the strength he needed to reclaim his identity. William being well-rested wasn’t important in comparison.
Adathan wrapped his arm around William’s midsection with a soft sigh. William’s lips parted, but he silenced his budding words of protest. Frankly, he had no desire to push Adathan away. He’d hurt his feelings enough already.
But that wasn’t all there was to it. He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t relishing Adathan’s warmth, and how right it felt to have him close. William knew he shouldn’t be having these thoughts—how fucked up was he?—but he couldn’t deny the calm that settled in his chest as they cuddled in front of the TV.
Adathan traced soft circles on William’s side, his fingers following the slow rhythm of his own breathing as he relaxed against him. Despite his injuries, his movements were smooth and fluid—an unwelcome reminder that Adathan had been trained to conceal his pain.
It felt unfair that Adathan was hurting while William was so comfortable. “Does it hurt? Your hands?” he asked, hoping Adathan would understand his silent request to be more careful.
“Yeah,” Adathan said after a beat. “A little bit. But thanks to your kindness, the cuts will heal quickly.”
It annoyed William that Adathan made such a big deal out of the bare minimum of human kindness. Again, he did his best not to let it show.
Adathan gasped softly, redirecting William’s focus to the documentary. The cameramen had filmed a group of meerkats standing on their hind legs, scanning the horizon for predators. They were so adorable with their tiny ears and noses, William couldn’t help smiling as they went on with their morning routines. How long had it been since he’d last watched a documentary? Ten years?Fifteen?
He used to be fascinated with nature, regularly staying up late because he couldn’t put his encyclopedias down. When he was a kid, nothing mattered but memorizing the Latin names of every bird species and making tier lists of wild mushrooms based on how magical they looked.
Guilt snaked up William’s throat as he recalled the sacrifices his mom had made to buy him those books. He used to get upset when she worked overtime during the few weeks preceding his birthday and Christmas, not realizing she’d been doing it for him. Kids could be so stupid sometimes.
“Mmm,” Adathan uttered as he rubbed his cheek against William’s shoulder. “You smell good.”
William’s eyes widened. “Uh, thanks. You too.”
“You think so?”
William failed to suppress a shiver as Adathan’s nose brushed his neck. “Yeah.” He swallowed. “Your shampoo smells good.”
“Ha! I knew I made the right choice.”
