“I didn’t want to make things… complicated,” I murmur, hating how raw I sound.
Theo’s expression doesn’t change, but the air between us tightens. It pulls.
“And why would it be complicated?” he asks. Nochallenge, no accusation. Just that quiet, devastating curiosity that always cuts through my defenses like nothing else.
He’s giving me another out. One more chance to lie. And gods help me, I almost take it.
But I don’t.
Because he deserves the truth, even if it wrecks me.
“You know why,” I whisper.
I don’t look at him. I can’t. Not when all I want is to press my lips to the edge of his jaw and whisper all the things I’ve never been brave enough to say.
Because he’s not mine to want.
And I’ve wanted him since the moment I realized I wasn’t supposed to.
His fingers brush mine again, intentional this time. Lingering. Not demanding, not forceful, just there. A whisper of contact that feels like a hand pressed to the center of my chest.
The invitation is silent, but clear.
My pulse reacts like it’s been struck. He feels it. Of course he does. His senses are sharper than mine in every way. He feels the way I flinch, not from fear, but from want. He knows what I’m holding back, what I’ve been choking down for weeks now.
Theo shifts closer.
Barely an inch. But it changes everything.
The air grows heavy between us. His body doesn’t even touch mine, but the heat radiating from him is overwhelming, like a secret pressed too close to the skin. His head tilts slightly, and though his eyes don’t focus, his gaze lands on me with a precision that steals my breath. I’ve never felt so seen by someone who can’t see.
“Liam,” he says softly, voice like velvet drawn tight over something trembling, “are you frightened of what this could be? Or are you frightened of letting someone look at you tooclosely?”
The question lands like a strike to the ribs.
It shouldn’t exist, not in our world. Not between two boys standing half in shadow, half in silence, in a place where magic runs deeper than bloodlines and expectations are suffocating. A question like that is dangerous. Blasphemous.
But Theo speaks it gently. Carefully. Like he’s the one who’s afraid he’s gone too far.
My chest tightens so sharply it hurts. Because I know what comes next. I know how this ends. This kind of closeness, this kind of truth, it never lasts. Not for us. Not for me. Something always tears it away.
Someone always does.
And I don’t know if I can survive it again.
He shifts closer.
Still not touching, still giving me that unbearable space to run, but I feel him now. His body radiates heat, so near I could tilt my head and fall into it him. My skin prickles with awareness. My lips part, unsteady, and I swear I can feel the press of his breath mingling with mine.
“Tell me,” Theo murmurs. “Tell me what you’re afraid of.”
I turn toward him fully, because I can’t do this halfway anymore. Not with him. His pale eyes catch a flicker of lantern light, turning soft and silver in the dark. They don’t focus on me, but they hold me. Like they always do.
The vulnerability digs claws into my spine.
“I’m not shutting you out,” I manage.“I’m trying to keep us both safe.”
His head tips again. A shadow of confusion crosses his face, laced with something sadder.
