The moonlight stretched lazily across Elias's bare shoulders as he lay tangled in warm sheets and sweat, his back to Rael. The silence wasn't uncomfortable—it was thick, like a blanket soaked in thoughts neither of them dared to voice.
Rael shifted behind him, the mattress dipping just slightly.
"You're quiet again," Rael said softly, brushing his fingers along the curve of Elias's spine. "Are you thinking about leaving when morning comes?"
Elias exhaled slowly. "I'm thinking I hate how much I want to stay."
Rael's hand paused. Then, with a low hum, he slid closer until his chest was pressed against Elias's back, lips brushing behind his ear. "Then stay. No rules. No regrets. Just this."
Elias turned to face him, eyes flickering with something fragile. "I don't know how to want someone like this."
Rael smiled, slow and aching. "Then let me teach you."
For a long time, neither of them moved. Rael's thumb traced circles over Elias's hipbone. Elias rested his forehead against Rael's. There was a new kind of heat between them now—not just lust, but gravity.
By morning, the warmth lingered long after the sheets cooled.
Later that day, the academy halls felt too narrow, the voices too sharp. Elias wandered the library with hands in his pockets and a weight pressing against his chest that no spell could lift. A familiar scent—sandalwood and sulfur—tickled his senses, and he turned to see Rael watching him from between the stacks.
"You look like you need rescuing," Rael said.
Elias cracked a dry smile. "You offering?"
Rael stepped forward, too close again, and yet not close enough. "Always."
There were no grand declarations, no desperate kisses in shadowed corners. Just a stolen moment, quiet and strange, where Elias realized he didn't feel hollow anymore.
Rael tilted his head. "You're different."
Elias nodded. "And you're making it worse."
A grin. "You're welcome."