Kneeling in front of him, my hand hovered in the air before I lowered it to my lap. He didn’t need to be touched yet. Not until the storm in his head subsided enough that he could see me.
“Etienne,” I whispered. “I’m here. You’re safe.”
I repeated those words,I’m here. You’re safeas much for him as for me.
At first, nothing changed. His breaths came too fast, his eyes were too wide and unseeing. So I kept talking, keeping my words soft and even, hoping it’d serve as a lifeline.
Something in his eyes flickered. The smallest shift, a beat of focus as his gaze moved, searching. It was enough.
“I’m here. I’ve got you,” I whispered, holding still until his frantic breaths came less violently.
Only then did I inch closer, slow enough for him to track my movements, and let my fingers graze the outline of his hand. He didn’t flinch. So I eased him forward, bringing him against me.
He collapsed against me like he’d been waiting for me all this time. His forehead pressed against my shoulder, his shaking fingers knotted weakly around my shirt. I cradled him, my hand moving up and down across his back.
Slowly, his breaths started to match mine.
I let my eyes drift toward the doorway where I knew I’d find Brenton. He held himself rigid with one shoulder braced against the frame, jaw tight, and every inch of him coiled and ready to strike if Etienne so much as whimpered. He didn’t say anything. He didn’t need to.
Seeing him standing guard like that loosened my chest. Despite all the cracks between us, he was still there. Still mine in ways neither our words nor our actions could touch.
In my arms, Etienne’s breaths evened out, warm against my neck. “Finny,” he rasped out, his fingers curling tighter around my shirt.
“You’re safe.” I kept holding him, kept whispering to him while my attention was locked on Brenton.
Brenton only leftafter Etienne was calm. He lingered, his eyes on me, and gave me a single nod, asking me if I was holding it together. I nodded back, and he slipped away. Not gone, exactly. His presence remained, woven into the soft sound of his footsteps moving through the house and into his scent that clungto the air. It threaded through every corner, hung everywhere I would go.
I hated how much it steadied me.
I hated it even more that it feltmore like home than it ever had.
It’d taken almost an hour for Etienne’s panic to fully fade away, leaving behind a familiar stillness. I curled up on his bed with him beside me, the same way we always ended up when the outside world got too loud. He lay on his side with a blanket tucked under his chin while I propped myself up against the headboard with my knees drawn in beneath the same blanket we shared. A half-empty bowl of popcorn sat between us, the buttery scent hanging in the air. He picked at it, not really eating but keeping himself busy.
This was our rhythm. Quiet. Easy. Safe.
With the bottom of my foot, I nudged the bowl closer to him. He gave me a look that almost passed for a smile. His hair still stuck up, half wild from when he’d pulled on it earlier. Dark circles lined beneath his eyes, but he looked more himself.
He shifted onto his side and poked my arm. “Are you going to tell me?”
“Tell you what?” I asked, feigning ignorance.
“What’s going on between you and Brenton?”
I tilted my head up, exhaling a long string of breath toward the ceiling. “Nothing,” I whispered. “We tried but . . .” I shook my head, the words splintering apart.
“He’s been here all day, Finny,” he said, voice soft but firm. It was the same tone he used on his students when he saw through their excuses. His eyes were swollen from exhaustion, but still clear when they held mine. “Standing guard at the door while you pulled me back. And somewhere in the house since then.”
My throat tightened.
“Something happened between you two.”
I picked at a piece of popcorn, watching it crumble back into the bowl, leaving salt and butter on my fingertips. He reached into the bowl, flicked a kernel at me, and I watched it bounce off my shoulder.
This was what we did. What we were for each other. A safe place to land when the world didn’t make sense.
My eyes burned, tears gathering faster than I could stop them. I pressed the heel of my hands against them, but it was useless.
“Finny.”
