After a long, ridiculous argumentative essay—Theo insisting it was "educational," Rex calling it "character development," Elara loudly declaring this is exactly why I said no—they gave in.
They binged The Cure.
Paper towels appeared halfway through.
No one remembered who brought them.
At first, Rex wouldn't shut up.
"That kid is absolutely unhinged," he muttered when Dexter did something reckless.
Theo nodded. "Statistically unsafe behavior."
Eliot smiled faintly. "He just… doesn't want to be alone."
Lunara watched silently, eyes sharp, ears tilted forward. She didn't blink much.
As the friendship unfolded—small jokes, shared silences, the way Dexter treated Erik like he was normal—Theo's comments slowed.
Rex stopped fidgeting.
Even the room seemed quieter.
When the road trip began, Theo leaned forward.
"He actually thinks he can fix it," he said softly.
Eliot answered without looking away. "Sometimes believing is all you have."
Elara had gone quiet long before that.
By the time the movie reached its heaviest moments, she was a mess—knees pulled to her chest, face buried in a paper towel, tears soaking through faster than she could wipe them away.
"I told you," she whispered angrily to no one. "I told you this would happen."
Rex glanced at her, unusually gentle. "Hey… it's okay."
She shook her head. "It's not. He tried so hard."
Lunara's tail moved slowly behind her, a low, thoughtful sway.
"In our world," she said, voice calm but heavy, "we grow up knowing not every life is meant to be long. But humans…"
She paused. "You expect effort to be rewarded."
Theo swallowed. "Yeah."
When the film ended, it didn't feel like an ending.
No one spoke at first.
Eliot's eyes were glassy, fever forgotten.
"It hurts differently," he said. "Not loud. Just… empty."
Rex exhaled slowly. "I hate that love wasn't enough."
Lunara looked at the dark screen. "Love was enough," she said. "It just wasn't magic."
Elara wiped her face again, embarrassed and exhausted.
"That's why I didn't want to watch it," she muttered. "It doesn't let you pretend."
Theo reached over and squeezed Eliot's blanket lightly. "Still glad we did."
Eliot nodded. "Me too."
The screen stayed black.
The ache stayed longer.
--
The silence cracked again.
Theo shifted, pushing his glasses up his nose. "I still think we should've watched Close (2022)."
Rex turned, one brow up. "Why?"
Theo sat up fully now, hands moving like he was solving an equation in the air."Because logically—if you break it down—people only get uncomfortable when boys are gentle with each other. It's a social bias. Girls can be affectionate and no one questions it. Boys do the same thing and suddenly it's labeled or mocked."
He frowned, clearly annoyed. "It's irrational."
Then he slumped back, dramatically throwing his arm over his forehead.
"And it's so frustrating."
Eliot let out a weak laugh, voice rough. "I'm literally sick, and you're the one acting like a baby."
Rex smirked. "What's the difference?"
Theo didn't answer—he just grabbed a pillow and smacked Rex with it. "Don't start."
They checked the time.
"…You should go," Elara said, already standing.
Rex immediately leaned into Theo. "I can't. Emotionally unstable."
Theo muttered, "Get off me."
Elara didn't even hesitate. She grabbed Rex by the arm and hauled him up.
"Move."
Rex yelped, half-laughing as she dragged him toward the door. "Cruel. Absolutely cruel."
Then she turned back, looked at Theo, and sighed.
"You too. Now."
"I'm fine," Theo protested.
She took his arm anyway and pulled him gently but firmly. "You're not. And you're coming."
Theo laughed under his breath as he was dragged a few steps, hair falling into his eyes.
When the door finally closed behind them, the room settled again.
Lunara turned to Eliot, ears twitching thoughtfully.
"Theo is right," she said. "Your society fears softness in boys. It teaches them that closeness must be explained or punished."
She huffed quietly. "A fragile rule."
Then she glanced at him, eyes softer. "But I like that you don't care."
Eliot nodded, voice low but certain.
"Yeah. We don't."
And for once, the world outside that room didn't matter.
---
Leon sat on the edge of his bed, back straight, shoulders tight.
The crystal glowed softly in his palm—pale blue, steady, like it was breathing with him.
The door creaked.
Mrs. Hale stepped in. She looked better now—hair retied, eyes clearer, a calm smile that didn't quite hide the fear underneath. She sat beside him, close but careful.
"What's the matter?" she asked gently.
Leon didn't hesitate.
"What if they find out?"
She frowned. "Find out what?"
"That I'm a—"
Before he could finish, she placed a hand on his shoulder. Firm. Warm. Certain.
"No one will," she said. "You don't have to say it out loud."
He swallowed. "It wasn't my fault."
"I know." Her voice softened. "You were little. It was my mistake."
She looked down. "I worked with that mad scientist. I believed him."
Leon exhaled, bitter. "And I turned out… not normal."
She moved closer, almost shoulder to shoulder now.
"It's okay," she said. "No one will know. You don't have the features."
He nodded slowly. "Yeah. I'm lucky. No ears. No tail."
The crystal pulsed once.
"There's a reason," she continued quietly, as if explaining it to both of them.
"The serum you took wasn't pure wolf blood. You injected yourself with a diluted mix—wolf blood bound to stabilizing chemicals. It altered your strength, your senses… but it suppressed full physical manifestation."
Leon's jaw tightened. "I did it on purpose."
She looked at him.
"I wanted to be strong," he said calmly. No drama. Just truth.
Mrs. Hale pulled him into a hug, tight and immediate.
"You were strong then," she whispered. "And you're strong now."
Leon closed his eyes.
The crystal still glowed in his hand.
---
Leon arrived quietly.
Theo and Rex's storm had already passed—noise, chaos, insults, laughter—all gone.
The room felt lighter without them.
Too quiet.
Eliot lay asleep on the bed, breathing evenly. His nose was still red, but not as angry as before.
Pale, yeah—but better. Healing.
Lunara sat at the edge of the bed near his head, tail tucked neatly beneath her as a seat.
Her ears twitched now and then while she read, calm and focused, like nothing in the world could rush her.
Leon closed the door softly."Hello," he said under his breath.
"He's asleep," Lunara replied flatly. "Like a dead person."
Leon snorted despite himself. He ran a hand through his messy brown hair and sat across from them, leaning back against the wall.
"What're you reading?" he asked.
She turned the book so he could see the ridiculous cover.
"Human stuff," she said. "Alpha gets tamed by mega wolf. Absolute nonsense."
Leon sighed. "Figures."
She glanced at him again. This time, her ears stilled.
"…You smell different."
He blinked. "Huh?"
"You smell different," she repeated, tilting her head. "Did you sunbathe?"
He shook his head. "No."
She hummed, clearly unconvinced, then went back to her book—except she didn't really read.
"Is there something you've been keeping a secret from me?" she asked casually, eyes still on the page.
Leon went still.
"…There is," he admitted slowly. "But I'm not ready to tell you yet."
She finally looked up at him. Studied him for a long second. Then she nodded once.
"Fine."
At that moment, Eliot stirred. His lashes fluttered, and he opened his eyes, squinting at the room.
"How are you feeling?" Leon asked immediately, leaning forward.
Eliot nodded sleepily. "Better."
Lunara exhaled in relief.
"It took effort," she said dryly. "Getting him to the bathroom to brush his teeth and take a bath was a battle."
Leon wrinkled his nose dramatically. "So that's why it smells like this."
Eliot weakly swung his arm and smacked Leon's side. "Nonsense."
Lunara smiled—small, soft, rare.
She looked at Leon again. Their eyes met.
Leon smiled back, just a little.