Kai Langford - August 2120
Ethan and I were eating in the canteen when Jack appeared out of nowhere, breathless and far too pleased with himself, and told Ethan that Tessa and Daniel had returned from town.
Ethan gave me an apologetic smile and before I could ask anything, he stood and hurried out of the canteen. No explanation. Just gone.
Leaving me sitting here with Jack.
Jack doesn't seem bothered. He dropped into Ethan's empty seat and tears into his burger like he hasn't eaten in days. In the month I've been here, he's stopped treating me like I'm some kind of threat but he still won't let me forget his favourite line, 'head of security'.
Ethan's abrupt exit left something tight and restless in my chest. I try to ignore it. I've spent years learning how to ignore things. But for some reason I can't this time.
"Is there something special about going into town?" I asked.
Jack looked up mid–bite, eyes blank with confusion. "Whhhha aaare-"
"Don't talk with your mouth full," I cut in. Old habits. He swallows quickly before trying again.
"What are you talking about?"
I feel ridiculous for even asking, but Ethan's reaction keeps replaying in my mind. It shouldn't bother me this much. I shouldn't let it.
"It's just… Ethan…" I start, then immediately regret it.
Jack's expression shifts. He's figured out what I meant. "You mean because Ethan went to find them?" His eyes narrow a little.
I don't answer, but looking away probably said enough.
"He only left because Tessa and Daniel went to town to get more information on that Bennett guy" Jack says, already focus on his chips, clearly unconcerned.
But Tessa and Daniel have been into town several times already looking for leads. So why did Ethan leave this time without a second thought? Why did he look at me like he owed me an apology before running to them?
I finish eating and make my way back to Ethan's room. Part of me expects him to be there when I open the door, waiting, ready to explain. Stupid.
The room is silent and completely still.
And I hate how empty it felt without him in it.
The room is still as I close the door behind me. I stand there for a moment, letting the quiet settle. Silence should comfort me, I've lived most of my life in it, but this kind of silence feels different. Heavy. Like I'm waiting for something.
I sit on the edge of Ethan's bed, our bed now I guess, though the word our feels fragile in my mouth, like saying it out loud might break whatever we've managed to rebuild. I lean forward, elbows on my knees, and breathe out slowly.
A month... I've been here a month.
It's strange how quickly this place has become something I can't predict. Before, every day followed a pattern I didn't get to question, obedience, discipline, control. No room for softness. But here? People smile at me. They ask if I'm okay, if I need anything, if I slept well. They treat me like a person, not a weapon. It throws me off balance.
I still don't know what to do with that kind of kindness. It feels like something I have to relearn from the ground up.
Even Jack, with his loud voice and his inflated head of security ego, tries in his own way. Tessa drags me into conversations I would never start. Daniel explains how things work around here, although I get the feeling he would rather be anywhere else when he does. No one looks at me like I'm dangerous.
I'm not used to that. I don't know if I deserve it.
And then there's Ethan.
Being near him feels like finding something I thought I'd lost years ago. Something I never let myself hope for. But every time he looks at me with that soft expression, like he's genuinely glad I'm here, like he trusts me, the fear twists in my chest. I want to reach for him. I want to close the distance between us the way we used to. But I'm terrified.
If I let myself get too close… if I start feeling too much… what happens if something happens to him again? What happens to me then?
I was so broken for months after I thought he died. I don't think I can go through that again.
I lie back on the bed, staring at the ceiling. The room smells faintly like him, soap and warmth and something that settles under my ribs. It steadies me more than I want to admit.
Maybe when he comes back, I'll ask him why he rushed out. Or maybe I won't. Maybe I'll just be relieved to see him walk through the door.
I keep telling myself I don't need much. But I want him close.
I must drift off at some point, because the sound of the door opening makes my eyes snap open. I sit up quickly, instinct before thought, but when I see Ethan step inside, the tension eases.
Only… something seems off.
He closes the door quietly, like he's trying not to make noise. His shoulders are slightly hunched, his expression dimmed. Not tired, more like something has worn him down from the inside. He avoids my eyes as he toes off his shoes.
"Sorry for ditching you back there" he says softly.
Normally it would be full of his usual warmth, but this time it lands flat.
"Don't worry about it" I say, sitting up fully. I try to keep my voice even, not push, not press. "Everything okay?"
"Yeah. Fine."Too quick. Too light. Not convincing at all.
He sits on his bed, our bed, and pulls out his phone. His thumb moves across the screen in short, tense motions. Whoever he's messaging, it isn't making him happy. His jaw tightens. His brows pull together. Every few seconds, the phone buzzes again, and Ethan's expression sinks lower with each vibration.
I watch him for a moment, unsure what I'm allowed to ask. Old habits tell me not to pry, not to overstep. But something in me twists seeing him like this.
"Ethan," I say quietly.
He doesn't look up. "Mm?"
"You don't seem… fine."
He offers me a small smile, thin, unsteady. "It's nothing, Kai. Don't worry."
Except I do. I can't help it.
His phone buzzes again. He sighs, typing a response. For a second, he looks almost… guilty.
I hesitate. I'm not good at this, comfort, closeness, being the one to reach out first. My hands have always been for defence, for fighting, for orders. Never for something gentle.
But I something in my stomach drops.
So, slowly, carefully, I reach across the space between us and touch his hand. It's barely more than a brush of my fingers at first. I'm ready to pull back if I've misread something. If I'm too close.
He freezes.
Then he looks up, finally looks at me, and the worry in my chest stutters. His eyes soften instantly, like he hadn't expected me to reach for him, like it means more to him than I realise.
"Kai…" he breathes, and his hand turns under mine, fingers slipping between my own.
The phone falls silent in his lap.
For the first time since he walked in, he smiles properly. A real one. Full, warm, reaching his eyes.
"Sorry about that" he says, relief colouring his voice in a way that makes my chest ache.
I squeeze his hand gently. It's all I can manage, but it's enough to make his shoulders drop, his whole posture easing like he's been pulled out of something heavy.
And he smiles at me and my heart flutters.
I want to ask who he's texting. The question sits on the edge of my tongue, sharp and intrusive. But I swallow it down. I don't have the right to press. Not when I'm still learning how to be close to him again without holding too tightly.
So instead, I clear my throat and take the safer path.
"How were Tessa and Daniel? Did they find anything in town?"
Ethan doesn't answer right away. Instead, he suddenly drops back onto the bed, pulling me with him because he still hasn't let go of my hand. I catch myself on my elbow beside him, and he gives a little huff that sounds tired… or frustrated.
"They wouldn't really tell me anything," he says, staring up at the ceiling. "But I could tell they seemed… tense."
Tense? That doesn't make sense.
Eastbury, what little I know of it, is supposed to be a small, quiet place. The kind of town where nothing unusual happens. Which is probably why this school works so well as a hideout. People either don't remember it exists or think it was destroyed years ago.
So if something did happen in town, it has to be connected to the man we encountered in the forest… or maybe someone else with abilities has appeared. The thought sends a faint shiver of unease through me.
Ethan squeezes my hand once before continuing. "They said Edmund will probably tell us about it tomorrow, so I guess we'll just have to wait."
He sighs, and I watch his chest rise and fall. Whatever happened, it's weighing on him. And I wish he'd trust me enough to tell me more, but wishing and asking are two different things.
For now, all I can do is stay here beside him.And hope that's enough.
His phone buzzes again. Ethan groans under his breath and reaches out with his free hand, patting around blindly until his fingers close around it.
He glances at the screen.Sighs.Drops it back onto the bed like it's something that's been bothering him for too long.
Then he presses his fingers to the bridge of his nose, rubbing slow circles as frustration pulls tight across his expression.
When he finally turns to me, something flickers in his eyes, guilt, hesitation, something that makes my stomach sink as if I need to brace myself for bad news. My body goes tense without me meaning to.
But instead of talking, instead of explaining, he lets out a breath and releases my hand.
And he opens his arms.
He doesn't say a word, but the meaning is clear enough... come here.
I freeze for a heartbeat. We've hugged a few times now, usually late at night when the room is dark and everything feels safer. More than once I've woken to find his arm around me, warm and solid, like instinct pulls him toward me even in sleep.
But I'm still not used to it. Not used to being wanted this close. Touch was always tactical, never tender.
Yet the way he looks up at me now, soft, tired, almost pleading, makes something tighten in my throat. I give in before I can second-guess myself.
I lie down beside him.
Ethan wraps his arms around me immediately, pulling me close, burying his face against my chest as if he's been waiting all day to do exactly this. And every time he presses that closely, every time he breathes against me, my heart feels like it's trying to break free from my ribs. Too fast. Too much. Too good.
We lie there in silence, our breathing slowly falling into the same rhythm. Each rise and fall of his chest against mine smooths out the restless thoughts in my head. My body loosens, my mind quietens, and the heaviness in my eyes grows.
When I glance down at him, his face is already relaxed in sleep, his breath warm against my shirt.
I hesitate for a moment, before my arms tighten gently around him.Like if I hold him too loosely, he might slip away again.
And with that thought tucked somewhere deep inside me, I let myself drift off too, wrapped around him as sleep finally pulls me under.