Adrian smirked, tilting his head, his nose brushing against Logan’s in a teasing nudge. “Oh really?” he murmured, his voice smug and light, something almost playful lingering in his tone.
Logan didn’t answer. He just kissed him.
Deep and slow, holding Adrian’s face with one hand, cupping the back of his neck with the other.
It wasn’t rushed.
It wasn’t desperate.
It was them.
When they pulled apart, Logan rested his forehead against Adrian’s for a moment before sighing. “I’m going to get us something to drink and try to find Dr. Tierney. You rest for a while, okay? You look exhausted.”
Adrian gave a small nod, though Logan could still see the exhaustion dragging at his features, the way his body seemed too heavy even as he stood there, even as he smiled.
But he didn’t argue.
He just kissed Adrian’s fingers before letting him go.
And then Logan was gone.
Adrian eased back into bed, sinking into the mattress and trying to relax despite the persistent, dull pain deep within his bones. His head pulsated with a throbbing ache. His stomach churned uncomfortably in that familiar, subtle way that never quite led to vomiting but remained constant. Every movement felt heavier, with his limbs weak and uncooperative.
None of it was new. He closed his eyes, feeling exhausted and vaguely unwell in that all-encompassing manner—an unnameable sensation, while the sterile smell of antiseptic and clean linen filled the room. He allowed himself to drift into sleep.
Then, the door creaked open.
A smile flickered across his lips.That must be Logan, he thought to himself.Maybe he forgot his jacket, or he wanted to speak to me about something Dr. Tierney mentioned.
But the air shifted.
The presence in the doorway was different. He felt it before he saw it.
Adrian lifted his gaze, and the smile vanished.
A stranger stood before him, tall and commanding, dark eyes holding something unreadable—something Adrian couldn’t name but felt immediately in his chest. His hair, jet black, was slicked back, save for a few rebellious strands that fell over his forehead, blending with the dark stubble lining his jaw. His face was a perfect study of sharp angles and smooth arrogance, but there was something softer in his expression, something that made the air feel heavier.
The man tilted his head, a smirk curling his lips, but his eyes seemed insightful as they gazed upon Adrian. “Adrian?” The voice was smooth, even, yet laced with something restrained—curiosity, maybe. Or something else.
Adrian’s stomach twisted.
“Yeah.” His voice came out quieter than he intended.
The man stepped forward, his presence stretching into the space between them.
“I’m Zack.”
The name landed like a quiet explosion in Adrian’s chest.
The ‘Zack.’
The ghost that had lingered between him and Logan, the man who had filled the void Adrian left behind, the one who had touched Logan when he could not, held him when Adrian had become nothing but a painful memory.
Something dark curled in his gut.
Adrian sat up slowly, ignoring the ache in his limbs, straightening as Zack’s eyes raked over him, not cruelly, not possessively, but assessing.
And fuck.
