CHAPTER 107
**AUSTIN's POV**
I walked over to the wooden drawer and picked up the framed photo resting on top of it. It was an old picture of Chase, probably around five or six years old. His round cheeks, bright eyes, and wide grin made him look so adorable.
A small smile formed on my lips. It was strange seeing him like this—so small, so innocent.
But then, something shifted inside me. A strange feeling settled in my chest, an odd familiarity I couldn’t quite place.
I frowned, staring harder at the picture. I felt like I had seen him before—long before I ever met him at college.
Just as the thought formed, a sudden pang of pain shot through my head. I winced, gripping the side of my temple as a wave of dizziness washed over me.
The image in my hand blurred, my breathing uneven. What… what was this?
Memories—faint, distant—whispered at the edges of my mind, just out of reach. A playground. Laughter. A promise.
I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to hold onto whatever it was, but the more I reached for it, the more it slipped away.
Then, as quickly as it came, the pain faded. I inhaled sharply.
What was that just now?
I blinked a few times, trying to steady my breathing as Chase’s voice pulled me back to the present.
"Austin." His footsteps grew closer, concern laced in his tone. "Hey, are you okay? What's wrong?"
I turned to look at him, my grip still tight around the framed photo. His brows were furrowed, his eyes searching mine for an answer.
"I…" I hesitated, glancing down at the picture again. The strange feeling from earlier still lingered in my chest, but the pain in my head had faded.
"I just…" I exhaled, shaking my head.
"I'm okay." I forced a small smile, though my mind was still clouded with confusion. I put the frame back to its place.
"Hey, come on. Have a seat first." Chase's voice was gentle, but firm as he guided me to sit down on the couch.
I let out a breath, rubbing my temples as I tried to shake off the weird feeling.
"I'll get you some water," he said before disappearing into the kitchen.
Why did it feel like I knew him from before? Like this wasn’t our first time meeting?
A faint throb pulsed in my head again, but this time, I ignored it.
Something was missing—something I couldn’t remember. It's wierd.
After a while, Chase came back with a glass of water. He sat next to me, handing it over with a concerned look.
"Here. Drink this," he said softly.
I took the glass, my fingers brushing against his for a second. I hadn't realized how cold my hands were until I felt the warmth of his touch.
"Thanks," I murmured before taking a sip. The cool water helped ease the dryness in my throat, but it did nothing to calm the strange unease settling in my chest.
Chase watched me closely. "Are you sure you're okay? You looked like you were in pain."
I hesitated, my gaze drifting back to the photo on the drawer. "Yeah… I just—" I sighed, shaking my head. "I don’t know. I guess I just felt weird for a second."
His brows furrowed. "Weird how?"
I opened my mouth to explain, but the words wouldn't come out. "Nothing. Maybe I'm just tired."
Maybe.
"Are you sure?"
I nodded, forcing a small smile. "Yeah. Don’t worry about it."
He sighed but didn’t push further. Instead, he reached out, his hand resting gently on my shoulder. "Okay. But if something's bothering you, you can tell me, alright?"
"Yeah." I nodded.
"Let's take a rest." Chase's voice was soft, but firm.
I nodded, feeling the weight of exhaustion settle over me. He gently guided me toward his room, and as we stepped inside, I took in the space around me. It was simple but cozy, with shelves lined with books and a faint scent of his cologne in the air.
Chase walked over to the closet and pulled out a blanket. "Here, take the bed. I'll sleep on the floor."
I frowned, shaking my head. "No way. This is your bed, Chase."
He let out a small chuckle. "Austin, just take it. You're the guest."
I hesitated for a moment before sighing in defeat. "Fine. But only if you sleep here too."
His eyes flickered with surprise before he let out a quiet laugh. "Alright."
We both lay down side by side, staring at the ceiling as the sound of rain filled the silence. I turned my head slightly, watching him out of the corner of my eye.
"Goodnight, Austin," he murmured.
"Goodnight, Chase," I whispered back.
But as I closed my eyes, a strange feeling still lingered in my chest, as if I was on the edge of remembering something important—something just out of reach.
*As soon as I drifted into sleep, I found myself standing in a place that felt oddly familiar. The laughter of children echoed around me, the warmth of the sun on my skin.*
*I turned my head and saw a little boy—messy hair, a bright smile, and eyes full of warmth. He was laughing, his hands outstretched toward me.*
*“Austin! Come on!”*
*The name sent a shiver down my spine. That was my name, but why did this feel like a memory I had lost?*
*I watched as the younger version of myself ran toward him. My heart pounded as I saw the way we played, the way we laughed. Then, the scene shifted.*
*Darkness wrapped around me like a thick fog, but through it, faint voices echoed.*
*Laughter.*
*Not the kind that made you smile.*
*The scene sharpened, pulling me into a memory.*
*I was small. My hands, my legs—they felt different, shorter. I was back in kindergarten.*
*The playground stretched around me—slides, swings, and patches of grass where kids played and ran. But my eyes focused on one thing.*
*A boy.*
*He was sitting on a low wooden bench, eating his snacks in quiet solitude. His small hands held a sandwich, and next to him was a tiny juice box. His legs swung slightly, not quite touching the ground.*
*Then—*
*Smack.*
*A crumpled paper landed on his lap.*
*Then another.*
*And then—a handful of garbage rained down on him.*
*The laughter wouldn’t stop.*
*It echoed, growing louder, surrounding me like a suffocating fog.*
Just then, I jolted awake, gasping for air as if I had been drowning in the depths of my own mind. My chest rose and fell rapidly, the echoes of laughter still ringing in my ears. My hands trembled as I wiped the cold sweat from my forehead.
*What was that?*
I struggled to steady my breathing, but the unease remained. The dream felt so real—too real. The playground, the bullies, the cruel words, and the boy… sitting there, covered in garbage, looking so small and helpless.
I ran a hand through my hair, trying to piece it together. *What kind of dream was that?*
"Austin?" Chase's voice was softer, his hand resting on my arm. "Are you okay? What happened?"
I swallowed, my throat dry. "It’s nothing. Just... a dream." I shake my head. "Let's sleep."
I shifted on the bed, pulling the blanket up to my shoulders, but the uneasy feeling from the dream still lingered. It felt too vivid—too real.
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