—VAREK'S POV—
He was in my arms, trembling, breaking, fighting some invisible war I could never reach. Why… why did it always have to be like this? Why couldn't he be close to me without falling apart? His body clung to mine like I was the only safe place left for him, and the thought tore me in half. I hated it. I hated seeing him this fragile.
Then, through the mess of his sobs, came my name.
"Varek…" His voice cracked, thin and raw, scraping out of him as though every word cost him. He tilted his face just barely upward, enough for his wet eyes to meet mine. His cheeks were damp, his lips quivering with every shallow breath.
"My head—it's tearing me apart," he stammered, voice cracking, words shattering like glass. "I can't shut it off. Everything's wrong, I… I don't—don't know what to do."
God. He looked so raw. So fragile. Like one touch could make him collapse.
"Shhh," I whispered, a dull ache clawing at my chest. "Don't force it, Nolan. I understand."
But then he dropped his gaze again, like he was retreating back into the shadows inside him, and something in me refused to let that happen. Gently, I lifted my hands to his face, cupping it with a care I didn't know I still had in me. His skin was hot, damp with tears. Slowly, I guided his face up, forcing him to look at me.
His eyes—red, desperate, overflowing—met mine, and my breath caught. His lips trembled, parted like he wanted to speak but couldn't find the words. He was so close our noses nearly brushed, and I swear, for one suspended heartbeat, he didn't look broken at all. He looked untouchable. Ethereal.
But his chest heaved unevenly, his breath stuttering against my own, and that fragile sound undid me. I couldn't—wouldn't—stand by while the chaos swallowed him whole. If I could silence it, even for a moment, I'd do anything.
So I leaned in. Hesitant, terrified he might pull away. And then—
I kissed him.
At first it was soft, trembling, the barest meeting of lips. But even that felt like fire, like something alive had sparked between us. I should've stopped there. I should've let him breathe. But then—he clutched my shirt. Fist tight, desperate, dragging me closer as though he'd fall apart without me.
And that tiny act shattered my restraint.
A sound escaped me, raw, as I tilted my head and deepened the kiss. His tears salted the space between us, but I didn't care. I wanted all of it—his trembling, his fear, his desperate, messy surrender. His lips moved against mine in a broken rhythm, uncertain at first, then growing urgent, aching, real.
He gasped softly into me, and I swallowed it, pulling him tighter until no space remained between us. His hands—shaking just moments ago—found my shoulders, clinging with a need that ripped me open.
The world blurred away. There was nothing left but the frantic beat of his heart against mine, the heat of his mouth, the way he melted into me like he had finally—finally—let himself fall.
And for the first time in forever, the storm inside him went quiet.
Then, the lights flickered back.
And I hated it. God, I hated it. Why now? Why when, for once, he wasn't pulling away?
The brightness spilled across his face, and he flinched, pulling back slightly—not far, just enough for our lips to part. He looked dazed, caught between worlds. His face flushed deep red, his breathing ragged, confusion written across every trembling line of him. His eyes betrayed him, though. They always did. He thought he could hide—but not from me.
Fear twisted in me. Would he push me away now? Pretend it never happened? Regret every second?
But I didn't regret it. Not for a moment. Kissing Nolan, holding him, tasting his tears—it was the most beautiful moment of my life.
He stayed still for long, fragile seconds, staring at the floor, unable to meet my gaze.
"Nolan?" I asked, my voice hesitant, almost afraid.
And then—he folded back into me. Hugging me again, burying his face against my chest, melting into my arms.
"Just… don't say anything," he whispered, eyes closing, voice barely holding together.
And I didn't. I obeyed. Not a word. I barely breathed, terrified even the sound might make him pull away. I just held him, still as stone, while his trembling slowly eased against me.
Until, at last, sleep claimed him.
Will he pretend this never happened? Or will he acknowledge it? The questions stormed inside me, but I shoved them down. They didn't matter right now. Not while he was safe in my arms.
I carried him carefully, laying him down on his bed. For a long time, I just stood there, staring at him, memorizing the rise and fall of his chest, the peace I prayed would last until morning.
Finally, I leaned down. Brushed my lips against his closed eyelid, a featherlight kiss. A single tear rolled down his cheek, and I caught it with my thumb, stroking gently across his skin.
"Sleep, Nolan," I whispered, though he couldn't hear me. "You're safe."
And with that vow burning in me, I left his room.