Chapter 53 53

Chapter 53 53
Azxel had stayed in his room for two days straight after coming home.

The door barely opened. The food trays his mother had sobbed before preparing were left outside and collected untouched. The curtains in his room stayed drawn.

This morning was the first time the door creaked open.

Jaelen was already waiting in the hallway, dressed neatly, the car keys Azxel’s mum had passed to him in hand, he stood controlled like he had been standing there longer than necessary. He looked up when Azxel stepped out.

Azxel didn’t even glance at him. His hoodie hung loose on his frame, his sleeves pulled over his hands. His eyes were dull and unreadable. He walked past Jaelen without a word.

Their mother was already gone. She had left early again just like how she lived her normal life, chasing overtime, chasing payments, chasing the hope that if she worked hard enough, she could still fix what had been breaking.

They drove in silence. Azxel stared out the window the entire way, his reflection ghosted over the glass.

When they arrived, the building looked clean and neutral. The walls looked clean, they were painted white, the doors were of glass and every part of the wall had calm posters that promised safety without ever earning it.

Inside, the receptionist smiled politely. “Good morning.”

Jaelen gave their names. The nurse typed, nodded, and asked Azxel a few routine questions. He answered mechanically with his eyes deeply unfocused.

“Have a seat. We’ll call you in shortly.”

They sat down quietly at each sides.

Azxel’s knee bounced once, then stopped. His hands stayed clenched in his sleeves. Jaelen watched him from the corner of his eye but didn’t speak.

A door opened. “Azxel?”

He stood immediately.

The therapist’s office was warm in a deliberate way with soft lighting. Two chairs angled toward each other. A bookshelf full of titles about trauma, dissociation, identity, recovery and many others.

The man smiled kindly. “I’m Dr. Ash. You can sit wherever you’re comfortable.”

Azxel sat down rigid and alert, like comfort was something he found not trusted.

Dr. Ash spoke gently, explaining the structure of sessions, confidentiality and the goal of therapy. Azxel nodded at the right moments but didn’t really listen. His gaze drifted to the window, to the clock, anywhere but the man talking.

Dr. Ash noticed everything.

“That’s okay,” he said calmly. “You don’t have to engage right away. Sometimes it helps just to hear the words.”

He talked about grounding and about the intrusive thoughts. About how some minds get loud not because they’re broken, but because they learned noise as protection.

Azxel’s jaw tightened.

The therapist continued, with Dr. Ash steady and calm voice, as he spoke about dissociation, about how clinging to one person can feel like survival when the world feels unsafe. About how silence can be mistaken for peace.

Azxel’s fingers dug into his sleeves.

“You don’t have to choose between quiet and yourself,” Dr. Ash said. “The goal isn’t to erase anything. It’s to balance it and to learn which voices are yours.”

Azxel’s lips pressed into a thin line.

The man talked on for minutes, that felt like years. He talked about routines, about support systems, about how dependence can feel like relief at first. His words flowed perfectly practiced and careful.

Azxel didn’t interrupt. He didn’t argue or react at all.

But inside, something shifted small and deeply uncomfortable.

When the session ended, Dr. Ash smiled again. “That’s enough for today. We’ll take it slow.”

Azxel stood without a word and walked out.

In the hallway, Jaelen fell into step beside him. They still hadn’t talked. Jaelen had been dying to talk to Azxel but he felt he had talked too much two days ago and he had realized, something’s he said, Azxel didnt even understand any, but he didn’t even ask..

As they stepped back into the daylight, Azxel finally spoke, his voice flat.

“He talks too much.”

Jaelen nodded. “He have to, he’s a therapist.”

They got into the car again. The door shut with a dull thud, sealing the silence back in.

Jaelen drove for a few minutes before the road changed into different turns and less familiar streets. Azxel noticed, that want the way home..

“Where are you going?” he asked, his voice flat but edged with suspicion.

Jaelen didn’t look at him right away. “You haven’t eaten,” he said simply. “Not since you got home.”

Azxel scoffed quietly. “I didn’t say I was hungry.”

“I know.” Jaelen signaled and slowed the car. “That’s why I already made a reservation.”

Azxel turned to look at him then, frowning. “You decided that?”

“Yes.”

The car pulled into a clean, modern building with glass walls and a discreet sign out front. Their staff approached immediately.

Azxel stiffened. “I don’t want anywhere crowds, I don’t want to ta —”

“You don’t have to talk,” Jaelen cut in, calmly. “You just have to sit.”

Inside, the air felt warm like something faintly sweet. A hostess smiled and checked the name, then gestured toward the elevator.

“Your get your space at the rooftop,” she said.

The doors slid shut immediately they got in the resturant main space. As they rose, Azxel felt an odd pressure in his chest. Something like anticipation, but he couldn’t recognize.

The doors to the rooftop finally opened and lights flooded in, for a moment, Azxel actually stopped walking.

The rooftop was open and wide, with glass barriers catching the sky instead of blocking it. Late afternoon sun poured over everything, golden and overwhelming. The city stretched below, bright and alive.

Azxel squinted, lifting a hand instinctively. The light felt slightly painful and too warm.
It hit him then, absurd and sudden.

He couldn’t remember the last time he had been under the sun like this.

Jaelen watched him quietly.

They were guided to a table near the edge with chairs pulled out and their menus placed on the table.

Azxel sat stiffly at first, his shoulders hunched like he was bracing for something to go wrong. The sun brushed his face, warming skin that had grown used to fluorescent lights and shadows.

Jaelen sat across from him and exhaled softly.

“You know,” he said, staring out at the skyline, “I’ve never seen Sky happy.”

Azxel’s head snapped up. “What?”

Jaelen didn’t look at him. “Not really, he smiled. He laughed but it was never… light. It was always sharp. Like he was winning something.”

Azxel’s fingers curled around the edge of the table. “You don’t know him.”

Jaelen nodded slowly. “You’re right. I don’t.”

He paused, then added quietly, “I only know what it looks like when someone else disappears so another person can feel whole.”

Azxel swallowed. His chest tightened like something heavy was placed on it.

The waiter arrived, breaking the moment. Jaelen ordered for both of them without asking. Azxel didn’t stop him.

When the food came, Azxel stared at it like it didn’t belong to him.

“Eat,” Jaelen said gently.

Azxel hesitated. Then, slowly, he picked up his fork.

The first bite felt strange, he chewed carefully, like he was relearning how.

The sun dipped lower, painting the sky in orange and gold. Light reflected in the glass, warm and unthreatening.

Azxel ate in silence.

He was beginning to feel tge taste of tge food perfectly when he raised his head up. Jaelen was staring intently at him. It was as if he wanted saying something but had what held him back..

“Do you want to say something?” Azxel asked placing the cutlery smoothly on the table.

“No. I just have what to say to you before you leave for school after the break..”