POV: Nareth Sol
The first thing Nareth noticed was the silence.
Lucian Mareis had always been restless—fingers tapping, lips muttering thoughts that rarely made sense to anyone but him, shoulders carrying an invisible rhythm. Even when quiet, his presence filled the air like static.
But the man lying in the hospital bed wasn't restless. He was still. Too still.
Nareth leaned forward, elbows resting on his knees, eyes fixed on his best friend. Relief warred with unease in his chest. For three days he had been a shadow haunting this room, refusing to leave, begging for Lucian to wake up. And now he had.
Yet something was wrong.
"You should drink some water." His voice came out rough, betraying the exhaustion gnawing at his bones. He reached for the glass on the bedside table and pressed it gently into Lucian's hands.
Lucian's fingers trembled. He took the glass, but the way he held it… cautious, almost unfamiliar, like it was heavier than it should be.
Nareth frowned. "What's with that look?"
Lucian blinked, startled. "What look?"
"That one." Nareth pointed vaguely at his face. "Like you're… lost. Like you've never seen me before."
The words slipped out harsher than intended, but the silence afterward only deepened the tension. Lucian lowered his gaze, throat working as if swallowing words he couldn't say.
Nareth sat back, studying him. Same face. Same voice. But there was something in his eyes—a flicker of hesitation that Lucian Mareis had never worn in his life.
"You don't remember the accident?" Nareth asked carefully.
Lucian hesitated too long before answering. "Not… everything."
That pause carved into Nareth's gut.
He looked away, raking a hand through his damp hair. "You scared the hell out of me, you know. One second you're ignoring my calls, the next I hear you've been dragged into the ER half-dead. Do you even understand what that did to me?"
The sharpness in his tone startled Lucian. For a moment, Nareth swore he saw guilt flicker across his features—deep, raw guilt, not the sheepish kind Lucian usually wore when caught misbehaving.
"I'm sorry," Lucian whispered.
The words hit different. They weren't casual. They weren't playful. They carried weight, like each syllable cost him something.
Nareth's chest tightened.
He forced a laugh to break the tension, though it sounded hollow. "Don't apologize. Just… don't make me bury you, okay? I don't think I could handle it."
Lucian flinched. Subtle, almost imperceptible, but Nareth caught it.
Something was definitely off.
The door creaked open, and a nurse peeked in with a clipboard. "Mr. Mareis, the doctor will be in soon to check your vitals."
Lucian nodded stiffly, his fingers curling against the blanket.
Nareth stood, brushing past the nurse with a muttered thanks. He needed air.
Outside, the rain had slowed to a drizzle, painting the windows in streaks of gray. Nareth pressed his forehead to the cool glass, closing his eyes. He wanted to believe this was just trauma, that the accident had shaken Lucian into some new state of mind. But deep down, a knot of unease pulled tighter.
His best friend was alive. Breathing. Smiling.
And yet…
When Nareth looked into his eyes, it felt like staring at a stranger wearing Mareis 's skin.