Alistair's POV
For a while, neither of us said anything. The show played on, laughter echoing from the screen — a sound that somehow made the silence between us louder.
I wanted to tell him he was wrong. That waiting for Louis wasn't weakness — it was loyalty. But the words didn't come. Maybe because even I didn't believe them anymore.
Charles leaned forward, elbows resting on his knees, eyes fixed on the screen but clearly not watching either. "He's not the only one who matters, you know."
"I know," I said quietly.
And I did. I knew it better than I wanted to.
He looked at me then — really looked — and whatever he saw must have softened something in him. He gave a small, almost invisible smile, then shifted closer, shoulder brushing mine. "You think too much," he murmured.
"Someone has to," I said, voice faint.
He laughed under his breath, a sound that felt like warmth and chaos all at once. "Yeah, well, maybe tonight you don't have to."
