Logan looked at him. Something flickered behind his eyes, something quiet, protective, knowing. “I know,” Logan said. He smiled, just barely, just enough to mean something. “See you in a few months, Dean.”
And then, with one last look, one last breath, they turned and walked away.
Dean lingered at the airport, the weight of emotions anchoring him in place, as he observed the bustling crowd around him. The bright lights and distant announcements faded into a blur, mirroring his scattered thoughts. Finally, gathering his resolve, he turned away, navigating through the labyrinth of memories in his mind, eventually making his way back to the car. With a heavy heart, he steered toward the solitude of an empty apartment, each kilometer echoing the silence he felt within.
Chapter 16
I Only Ever Looked for You
I didn’t know if we would ever find our way back to this. To each other, to this version of us that still knows how to hold, how to stay, how to trust. So much time passed. Too much silence. Too much damage. But that night, when you looked at me, not like someone who had left, but like someone who had never stopped waiting, I understood. We had both been surviving in the absence of something sacred.
And now, in the quiet between your breath and mine, I know this: you are still my home. You always were. And this time, I am not afraid to be touched by you. This time, I let you see everything. Because this time, we both know: we never stopped belonging to each other.
The streams of water came again—this time to bring us back.
November 29, 2020—Seattle, Washington—The Next Day
Seattle’snightairseepedinto his very being, a sting of icy chill—a stark contrast to the warm, gentle embrace of Mediterranean winters that Adrian had known all his life. Logan barely flinched. He had weathered colder things—loneliness, regret, the hollow ache of missing Adrian. But Adrian, wrapped in the delicate warmth of the Israeli sun for most of his life, shivered.
Without a word, Logan ripped open his suitcase, pulling out the thickest coat he could find, and wrapped it around Adrian’s shoulders, his fingers lingering there, pressing into the bones that jutted out sharper than they used to. He murmured against Adrian’s skin, his voice low, solid, “Now that you’re no longer in the Middle East, we’ll get you proper winter gear.” Then, with the tenderness of a man who had lost too much to ever take anything for granted again, he kissed the tip of Adrian’s nose, as if to warm him from the inside out.
They moved through the night like two drifters on a vast and empty sea, tossing their luggage and Adrian’s beloved guitar case into a cab’s trunk. Logan leaned forward, giving the driver the address of the home he had barely seen before choosing on impulse.
It felt unreal. The last time Logan had traced these streets, he had been drowning, every familiar building a rip current pulling him under, every familiar smell, every whisper of wind, a reminder of what he had lost. He had walked through this city with his hands in his pockets and his heart in his throat, stifling in the absence of Adrian. He had told himself Adrianwould never want him again. That he had shattered something beyond repair.
And yet now, impossibly, Adrian was here.
His body had changed, his frame slenderer, his muscles softened by time and sickness, but his eyes, those molten-whiskey eyes, still held that same quiet kindness, that same depth, as endless as the horizon. And his smile—God, his smile—was still the same. It cracked something inside Logan, something he had kept locked away, something he had feared he’d never feel again.
Love.
Love so deep it eclipsed reason, so vast it could pull the tide. Love that had survived two years of distance, of silence, of regret. Love that sat right beside him now, in a cab in the middle of a city that had once felt like a graveyard, but tonight… felt like home.
The cab weaved through the streets near Seattle-Tacoma International Airport, where the roads stretched wide and empty under the dim glow of streetlights. The rain-slick pavement shimmered like black glass, reflecting the neon hum of convenience stores and the occasional lonely restaurant, their windows fogged with warmth against the biting night air.
“We need to stop at my parents’ place,” Logan croaked, gripping Adrian’s hand more tightly as if braced for impact.
Adrian peeked at him, his fingers lacing through Logan’s, offering silent reassurance as the cab hummed forward. “Is there a particular reason?” he asked, his thumb pressing gently against Logan’s wrist.
“A few, actually.” Logan exhaled, his breath uneven. “I left at a haste. Walked out of work. Walked out of everything. My mom’s beside herself. She and my father don’t understand the divorce from Sandy, don’tunderstand why I just disappeared.” He paused, swallowing, his fingers tightening around Adrian’s. “And… I want them to meet you. I want to explain to them what happened. I want them to know why I left.”
He came to a stop, the words and their meaning too vast to be conveyed all at once.
Adrian’s warmth was comforting in a way that gutted him. “I get that,” Adrian murmured gently. “Do you want me there?” Always, the kindness in Adrian roared louder than any storm.
Logan turned to Adrian, his gaze fierce. “Always. I want you with me always. Everywhere, every time. Clear?”
Adrian’s cheeks flushed, his lips parting slightly in silent surrender. He nodded.
Logan studied him for a moment, then exhaled, his fingers tightening around Adrian’s. There was something raw in his eyes, something tender and desperate all at once. “I don’t have enough money for the treatments.” Those words were stones dropping into a deep, dark abyss. “I need to borrow it from my dad. And before you get angry, I didn’t tell you because I knew you wouldn’t agree. But I need you to get better. And money won’t be the reason you don’t.”
Adrian stiffened, his jaw tightening as he tried to pull his hand away.
“Logan, I don’t want your dad to pay—”
“It’s not about you.” Logan’s grip held firm, his voice steady but urgent. “It’s me taking the money. And I will pay him back.”
Adrian’s eyes flashed. “Logan, I am not some charity case—”
