Chapter 43 43

Chapter 43 43
It had been three days now.
The room was dim, the late afternoon light filtering weakly through the small window.

Azxel was curled against Jaelen’s side on the narrow bed, resting his head on Jaelen’s chest, one arm draped loosely over his waist. Jaelen’s fingers had been tracing idle patterns on Azxel’s back, slow and steady, but now they stilled.

“It’s been three days,” Jaelen said quietly, his voice careful, like he was testing the air between them. “One more to go.”

Azxel didn’t open his eyes. He just pressed closer, nuzzling into the warmth of Jaelen’s shirt. “Can we keep quiet?” he whispered. “I just… I want to lay in your arms. Please.”

Jaelen’s chest rose and fell with a soft sigh. He didn’t say anything else. His hand resumed its slow stroking up Azxel’s spine, into his hair, gentle circles at the nape of his neck. The room stayed silent except for their breathing and the distant hum of the facility.

Minutes stretched. Maybe ten, maybe twenty. Azxel’s body felt heavy, almost drowsy, lulled by the steady rhythm of Jaelen’s heartbeat under his ear.

Then Azxel spoke, his voice sounding so small and distant. “I wonder how Sky is doing.”

Jaelen froze. The hand in Azxel’s hair stopped stroking. The arm around his waist tightened for a fraction of a second almost painful before loosening entirely. Jaelen sat up slowly, carefully disentangling himself.

Azxel made a soft, protesting sound, reaching out, but Jaelen was already swinging his legs off the bed.

“I’ll be back in a few minutes,” Jaelen said, his voice flat. He didn’t look at Azxel as he stood up, heading for the door.

Azxel’s heart lurched. Panic surged hot and sudden. He scrambled off the bed, bare feet hitting the cold floor, and ran the few steps to Jaelen just as his hand touched the doorknob.

He threw his arms around Jaelen from behind, pressing his face between Jaelen’s shoulder blades, clinging desperately.

“Don’t,” Azxel choked out. “Don’t leave me alone. Please.” His voice cracked on the last word, and then the sobs came raw, ugly and shaky like he was about.

Azxel had now knew Jaelen couldn’t stand seeing him cry, so the best thing to do was to cry. So his shoulders were already shaking, his fingers clutching fistfuls of Jaelen’s shirt like he was the only solid thing left in the world.

Jaelen went rigid at first, his hand still on the door. He could feel Azxel’s tears soaking through his clothes, hot and wet against his back.

He couldn’t help but wonder why Azxel was crying, because he knew he had done nothing wrong, but then, the sound of those broken and childlike sobs of Azxel cut straight through him.

He couldn’t stand it. He never could.
Slowly, Jaelen let go of the doorknob. His hands came up to cover Azxel’s where they gripped his waist, his thumbs brushing over Azxel’s  trembling knuckles.

“I’m not going anywhere,” Jaelen murmured, his voice low and rough. He turned in the circle of Azxel’s arms, pulling him close again, one hand cradling the back of Azxel’s head, the other wrapped tight around his back.

Azxel buried his face in Jaelen’s neck, sobs muffled against skin, body shaking as he held on like letting go would break him.

Jaelen just held him steady, warm, unmoving and letting the storm pass. Jaelen stood there for a long moment, Azxel’s arms locked around his waist, his face pressed hard into his back, sobs shaking them both.

Finally, Jaelen turned fully, sliding his hands under Azxel’s thighs and lifting him without a word. Azxel’s legs wrapped instinctively around his hips, clinging his arms to his neck as fresh tears soaked Jaelen’s collar.

Jaelen carried him the few steps back to the bed and laid him down gently, like he was something fragile that might shatter. Azxel curled onto his side immediately, wiping at his wet face with the heel of his hand, but when Jaelen started to pull away, Azxel caught his wrist.

“Stay,” he whispered, voice thick and small.
Jaelen hesitated, then sat on the edge of the mattress. Azxel scooted closer, resting his head on Jaelen’s thigh, one arm looping loosely around his leg like an anchor.

A shaky breath escaped Azxel, and then a tiny, wobbly smile tugged at his lips as he looked up. “Tell me a story?” he asked, soft and hopeful, like a child asking for comfort. “Please?”

Jaelen’s expression softened despite himself. He brushed damp strands of hair from Azxel’s forehead, thumb lingering on his temple.

“Yeah,” he murmured. “I’ve got one. Kind of an interesting story, actually.”

Azxel’s eyes brightened a fraction, the tears slowing. He shifted closer, his cheek pressed to Jaelen’s thigh, waiting.

Jaelen leaned back against the headboard, one hand settling lightly in Azxel’s hair, fingers carding through it slowly. “Okay,” he began, voice low and steady. “There was this boy. He was gay. Had a boyfriend he had been with for three years, they were really in love, the kind where you think it’s forever.”

Azxel’s breathing evened out a little, listening.
“One day, the boyfriend started… changing. Like brain stuffs, abnormalities, the doctors called it. At first it was small things like forgetting dates, mixing up words. But it got worse fast. The boy, he was terrified. He introduced himself to his boyfriend’s parents, properly, like ‘I’m not going anywhere.’ He went with them to every appointment, every specialist, searching for anything that might help.”

Jaelen’s fingers kept moving gently through Azxel’s hair, slow and rhythmic. “But nothing worked. His boyfriend started forgetting him entirely. His boyfriend didn’t even recognize his face, his voice, any of it. The parents even staged like a whole lot of things to help him remember, like a fake school program so the boyfriend could ‘meet’ him again, relearn all the memories they had made together. Thought maybe it would jog something and bring him back.”

Azxel’s eyes were fixed on Jaelen now, wide and absorbed. “But it didn’t,” Jaelen continued quietly. “It got worse instead. He still treated the boy like a stranger. Worse, sometimes like trash, pushed him away, said cruel things he never would’ve said before. And the boy… he just kept showing up anyway. Kept hoping.”
Jaelen’s voice softened further. “I don’t even know where the story’s going yet. It’s one I’m still reading. I’ll tell you the rest later, when there’s more.”

He smiled faintly, patting Azxel’s head with careful affection. “For now… just sleep, okay?”
Azxel’s eyes were already drooping, the tears dried on his cheeks. The steady stroke of Jaelen’s fingers through his hair, the low rumble of his voice, it was pulling him under gently, safely.

“’Kay,” Azxel mumbled, his voice thick with exhaustion. He nuzzled closer into Jaelen’s thigh, fingers curling loosely in the fabric of his pants. “Thank you… for staying.”

Jaelen didn’t answer with words. He just kept stroking, slow and soothing, until Azxel’s breathing deepened, body going lax and heavy in sleep.

Only then did Jaelen let his own eyes close, his jaw tight and hand still resting protectively in Azxel’s hair. He knew Azxel was manipulating him, but it doesn’t matter. Nothing had ever mattered when it came to Azxel.

He shakes his head after minutes of thinking about how Azxel was becoming alike with Sky. He had even learnt his manipulation tricks.

He closed his eyes forcing himself to obey as sleep called on him.