Nico’s fingers slid under the waistband of my jeans.

The button popped open with a soft metallic click.

I tensed.

And then I trembled.

It wasn’t dramatic — just a tiny shake in my shoulders, a ripple through my limbs I couldn’t control. But it was enough.

Nico paused.

His hand froze against me.

Then slowly, he pulled back. His voice was gentle, but serious. “Noah…”

I didn’t look at him.

“Are you okay?” he asked, softer now.

I couldn’t answer. I didn’t know what okay even looked like anymore.

“You’re trembling,” he said.

I opened my mouth to say something—anything—but then—

BANG BANG BANG

The sound exploded through the room like a gunshot.

We both jumped.

Another series of harsh, angry knocks rattled the door.

Nico’s head snapped toward it, his brows drawn. “The hell—?”

BANG BANG BANG

“This better not be what I think it is,” he muttered, already moving toward the door. He didn’t look scared — just irritated, like someone had the nerve to ruin his night.

He unlocked it with one sharp motion and flung it open.

Lucas.

Storming through the doorway like a force of nature. His silver hair slightly damp from sweat or the cold or maybe just anger, violet eyes locked straight on me where I still sat on the couch, jeans half unbuttoned, body frozen.

“Noah,” he said — not a question. A command.

Nico stepped in front of him. “Who the hell are you?”

Lucas didn’t answer him. He didn’t even look at him.

“Get up,” he said to me, his voice low and shaking with something that wasn’t quite rage — it was worse. It was fear.

“I—” I started, but my voice cracked. I couldn’t move.

“I said get up.”

Nico raised a hand. “Okay, first of all—”

Lucas finally looked at him. And that look shut him up. “I don’t care who you are or what you thought was happening here,” Lucas said, tone flat, sharp. “He’s coming with me.”

“Noah doesn’t belong to you,” Nico snapped.

“I’m not here to fight about territory,” Lucas said. “I’m here because he’s not okay.”

And for the first time, I saw Nico’s expression falter.

Because maybe… deep down, he knew it too.

Lucas stepped forward.

I stood — slowly, legs shaky, throat dry.

He reached for my arm, not rough, not forceful — just steady. “Let’s go.”

I didn’t resist.

Because for the first time in days, maybe weeks, I felt like someone was actually trying to protect me.

Even if I wasn’t sure I deserved it.

Lucas guided me past Nico and out the door, his hand closing around my arm in a grip that was firm, but not rough.

The hallway outside felt colder somehow — sharper, like the air was slicing into my lungs.

We walked in silence for a few steps before Lucas slowed down.

He let go of my arm.

Then he looked at me — really looked — like he was checking to see if I could keep going.

“Come on,” he said, softer now. He held out his hand.

I stared at it for a second. Just… stared.

It was steady. Warm.

I slipped mine into his.

And he didn’t let go.

We didn’t talk much as we crossed the street, the silence stretched between us but never awkward. Lucas didn’t rush me. He matched my pace, even when I stumbled a little on a crack in the pavement. His thumb brushed against mine once—maybe by accident, maybe not—but he didn’t pull away.

The night was quiet.

It felt strange.

Like the world was holding its breath.

Lucas lived in a small apartment just off campus.

I’d been here before.

Not like this.

The last time I crossed this threshold, I was drugged and half-conscious, barely holding myself together. I’d passed out in his bed, waking up to empty sheets and confusion and panic.

This time… I walked in on my own.

And I wasn’t running away.

The place hadn’t changed. It was still clean, quiet, warm. Still smelled faintly of cedar and detergent. There were still those little things that made it feel real — worn sneakers by the door, shelves that weren’t curated for show.

It looked like someone lived here. Like someone cared about this space. Like someone wanted it to feel safe.

And maybe that’s what shook me most.

Lucas didn’t say anything about the last time I was here. He didn’t bring it up. Didn’t try to make it easier or harder.

He just shut the door behind us and said gently, “You want water?”

I nodded.

He came back with a cold bottle and handed it to me, then gestured toward the couch.

I sat down.

He sat too—near, but not too near.

I held the bottle but didn’t open it.

My hands were shaking again so I wrapped my arms around myself.

Lucas noticed.

He didn’t say anything at first.

Then—

“Noah, you're shaking… are you having a panic attack? Is there something else I can get you? Have.. Have you been taking something?”

The last question hit harder than expected.

I looked down at the bottle in my lap.

“I don’t know,” I mumbled.

Lucas exhaled like he’d been holding that breath all night.

“You don’t have to talk about it,” he said. “Not tonight.”

I nodded, throat tight.

He got up again — grabbed the blanket off the armrest and unfolded it. Then, without a word, he draped it around my shoulders and sat beside me again, closer this time.

I didn’t lean into him.

But I didn’t move away either.

The blanket smelled like his detergent. Like fresh cotton and something vaguely nostalgic.

I let myself sink into it.

After a long moment, I whispered, “I’m sorry.”

Lucas turned toward me slightly. “For what?”

“For… everything. For that night. For not listening. For going with Nico.”

He shook his head. “None of that’s on you.”

“Yes, it is.”

“Noah.” His voice was firmer now — but still kind. “You’re not the one who let this happen. You’re not the one who—”

He cut himself off, jaw tight.

He didn’t finish the sentence. But I knew what he meant.

I blinked hard, trying to hold back whatever was building behind my eyes.

Lucas saw.

And he opened his arms.

Just a little.

Enough.

I didn’t even think about it.

I moved into him, the blanket slipping off my shoulder as I curled into his side. His arms came around me instantly—secure, steady, grounding.

It didn’t feel like a reward.

It felt like rescue.

His hand moved slowly up and down my back. Not pushing. Not asking. Just… there.

Present.

For the first time in what felt like forever, I let myself cry without apologizing for it.

And he didn’t tell me to stop.

When I opened my eyes, everything was quiet.

Warm.

Dim, but not dark.

Morning came.

I blinked at the ceiling above me — smooth, white, familiar. Not mine. Not Dylan’s. Not Nico’s.

Then I felt it. An arm wrapped around me. Steady. Secure.

Lucas.

His body behind mine, one arm curled under my neck, the other draped gently over my waist like a shield. Our legs tangled loosely beneath the blanket.

I didn’t move.

I didn’t breathe.

Not until his voice, low and rough from sleep, murmured behind my ear:

“You okay?”

I nodded automatically, even though I wasn’t sure.

My chest still felt too tight. My head too full.

But for a moment, everything was still.

Safe.

Until it wasn’t.

I sat up too fast, my breath catching.

“I— I need to go.”

Lucas blinked the sleep out of his eyes. “Why?”

“I have to… I wasn’t supposed to stay here. Dylan’s gonna be mad. Nico—”

Lucas sat up, too. “Noah. Stop.”

I did — but only because I was shaking again.

“You don’t have to go back there,” he said quietly. “You can stay here. As long as you need.”

My stomach twisted.

“No,” I said too fast. “I mean… I can’t.”

“You can.” His voice was firm, but not angry. “No one’s forcing you.”

I swallowed hard.

He didn’t know.

He didn’t understand.

It wasn’t just about a place to stay. It was about what I hadn’t had for two days. About the buzzing under my skin. About the pressure building in my skull. About the reward I hadn’t earned.

My hands wouldn’t stop shaking in my lap.

“I don't know what's going on with you and this shaking you're having but this doesn't look like just anxiety, Noah. Did… Did they give you something?”

I didn’t answer.

But I didn’t have to.

He leaned forward. “Whatever he gave you, we can get you help. Real help. You don’t need him to—”

“I do.” My voice cracked. “You don’t get it. I need—”

I shut my mouth before I said him. Before I said the bottle. Before I said the pain to stop.

Lucas looked like he wanted to reach for me again, but stopped himself.

“You deserve better,” he said. “You know that, right?”

I didn’t respond.

Because I didn’t.

I laughed—quiet, sharp, bitter. “Safe? I felt safe with you once.”

That made Lucas flinch.

My voice dropped, barely above a whisper. “I can’t believe I felt safe with you after everything you did. Dylan didn’t want me around you. And he was right.”

Lucas’s throat tightened. “I told you, I was a coward I—”

“Was it worth it?” I snapped. “I’ve never seen you scared of anything. You didn’t protect me. You broke me.”

Lucas opened his mouth. But I wasn’t done.

“You’re the one who broke me,” I whispered. “Dylan’s just putting the pieces back together.”

Silence.

Lucas’s face fell, like the words physically knocked the breath out of him.

His voice trembled. “Noah…”

But I was already turning away, clutching my arms around myself like armor.

Lucas swallowed hard. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I told you why I did it, but it doesn’t matter and it wasn't right. I know that. I was stupid. I was a kid. I was scared and ashamed—”

His voice cracked.

“Please, Noah. Don’t go back to Dylan. Please stay. I’ll do anything.”

I didn’t look at him.

Lucas reached out instinctively — not to grab, not to hold, just to reach.

And when I flinched, Lucas’s hand stopped midair.

His arm dropped slowly to his side and he was holding back what looked like tears.

His voice was barely a whisper now. “I just want you to be okay, Noah….”

I left out the door and rushed to my dorm. I was so scared. My heart was beating so fast I thought it would stop from exhaustion.

Once I entered my dorm room Dylan was calmly sitting at his desk, but that didn't matter. Dylan was always calm.

I walked over to him in his chair and dropped to my knees.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry I wasn't back sooner and—”

“Oh it’s alright. Nico told me you and him had a good time last night so you coming here this hour is expected.” Dylan said not even looking at me.

My hands curled in my lap and I looked down at the floor.

What did he mean? I wasn't with Nico, I was with Lucas…did Nico lie to Dylan for me? Why?

I thought back to last night. How Nico was undressing me while he was kissing me. I remember trembling when he was trying to take my pants off and he stopped before he did. He pulled back from me and asked me if I was okay right before Lucas knocked on the door. I don't think he was going to force me to do anything. I mean… Why else would he stop in the middle to check on me like that? Right? 

“You earned a few drops today.” Dylan said still busy on his laptop.

I was shocked and grateful. I leaned down, bowing to Dylan my forehead touching the floor. I was so grateful.

“T-Thank you. Thank you so much, Dylan.”

“Call me sir.”

“Y-Yes sir.”

“Open your mouth.”

I sat up and did as he asked and watched him drop the substance from the brown bottle into my mouth. His other hand firmly gripping my chin steady in place up towards him so he wouldn’t have any issues missing.

After I went to get into my bed. That's where Sir liked for me to be the most. But inside I was scared. What if he found out? What if he finds out I stayed with Lucas all night.

I closed my eyes and let whatever Sir gave me take full control of my body and calm me down into this blissful relaxing state I've craved for days.