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Chapter Text

Enya blinked her eyes open, greeted by complete darkness. Why was it so dark? She hesitated for a moment before reaching out toward the nightstand beside the bed, her hand fumbling for her phone. Once she found it, she pressed the lock button, the faint glow illuminating the screen. 4:23 AM.

No wonder it was still pitch black—it was the middle of the night.
But why on earth was she awake?

Her body answered the question before her mind could, a gentle but insistent pressure on her bladder making itself known. She sighed softly and glanced to her side. The dim light from her phone revealed Jayden and Liam, fast asleep. A small smile crept onto her lips at the sight.

Jayden was nestled close to her, one arm draped securely around her waist. Liam, in turn, was pressed against Jayden’s back, sleeping soundly. And, as if this cozy arrangement weren’t already complete, Border Collie Gremlin sprawled out at the foot of the bed, lying on his back with all four paws in the air, snoring faintly.

A wave of gratitude washed over Enya, warm and unbidden.

It had been exactly four weeks since Liam and she had been attacked and stabbed by her ex-partner, Ryan. By some miracle, they had both survived, and they’d both been able to leave the hospital just in time for Christmas. Liam had even been discharged a few days earlier than Enya, recovering much faster from his injuries and the induced coma.

They were all still here—alive—with the exception of Ryan. He had fallen down the stairs while trying to flee, breaking his neck in the process. Ryan was dead, and Enya was finally free. At least, that was the theory.

Reality, however, painted a different picture. In one way or another, Ryan had left his mark on all of them, scars that went far deeper than skin. Trauma that would take a long time to heal.

But not tonight.

Tonight felt different. It was almost like a glimpse into the past, back to those fleeting months when things had been perfect. She thought of that day when she had dragged Jayden and Liam to a private spa for a few stolen hours of relaxation—a day that, unsurprisingly, had ended in indulgent pleasure.
Back then, everything had felt flawless.

Together with Lexy, Michael, and Daniel, they had spent New Year’s Eve celebrating loudly, welcoming the new year with cheers and laughter. Shortly after midnight, following an impromptu drinking contest, Lexy and Daniel had collapsed on the couch and fallen asleep. Liam, ever the gracious host, had offered Michael his room to spend the night, which Michael had gladly accepted. Enya had then retreated to Jayden’s bedroom with him and Liam, where, for the first time since her hospital stay, things had turned intimate again.

Before Enya could dwell on that memory any further, her bladder issued a more urgent reminder. Carefully, so as not to wake the others, she slipped out of bed and padded toward the bathroom.
Once relieved, she stepped out into the hallway and was greeted by the faint sound of snoring from the living room. Was it Daniel or Lexy? Curiosity got the better of her, and she tiptoed toward the couch to investigate.

What she saw made a delighted giggle escape her lips.
For two people who had barely known each other, Lexy and Daniel were currently entangled in a surprisingly intimate embrace, sharing a blanket.

Enya was still baffled that Liam had never mentioned his older sister—not once in all the months she’d known him. Not a single word. That fact saddened her, especially now that she had gotten to know Lexy after meeting her shortly following Enya’s awakening from a coma. Every passing day had revealed more of Lexy’s vibrant personality—how warm, funny, and unapologetically outspoken she was. Lexy never held back, always ready for a joke or a prank.

And yet, something in the past had fractured her and Liam’s sibling bond so deeply that Lexy had moved to Germany, and Liam had never spoken of her again. Enya’s curiosity about what had happened burned, but she assumed she’d have to wait a long time for answers. Neither Lexy nor Liam—and not Jayden or Michael either—seemed willing to broach the topic.

Her thoughts were interrupted by a loud snore, unmistakably from Lexy. Glancing back at the couch, Enya had to stifle another laugh. Lexy lay sprawled on her back, one leg hanging off the couch while the other rested awkwardly on the floor. Daniel, on the other hand, was cuddled up against her side, his head nestled comfortably on her chest. His mouth hung open, and he was drooling—quite literally—down Lexy’s neckline.

"Well, Lexy’s going to love waking up to that," Enya thought, barely suppressing a grin as she quietly made her way to the kitchen.
She grabbed a glass from the cabinet, filled it with tap water, and sat down at the kitchen table. As soon as she did, she realized her mistake.

“Oh, fuck,” she hissed as a sharp twinge reminded her of the activities from earlier in the night.
“Goddamn it,” she muttered to herself with a wry smile. “I’m definitely going to hell for this.”
She wasn’t particularly religious, but if she were, tonight’s escapades would have warranted an immediate trip to confession.

Letting out a quiet sigh, Enya leaned back in her chair, her thoughts drifting back to that sinful, three-way session with Jayden and Liam.

"Awww, look at them," Liam sang, gesturing dramatically toward Lexy and Daniel sprawled on the couch. "Two drunk little angels, fast asleep."
Michael snorted. "Yeah, great. As long as they’re getting their beauty sleep. I was planning to head home, but I can’t exactly leave those two like this."
"Oh, Mikey, don’t worry about it," Liam chimed, throwing a brotherly arm around Michael’s shoulders. "You can sleep in my bed."

Michael raised a skeptical eyebrow. "And where exactly are you planning to sleep?" he asked grumpily. "I hope you’re not suggesting we share a bed."
"Ouch," Liam gasped dramatically, clutching his chest as if mortally wounded. "And here I thought you’d be thrilled to spend some quality time with me."
Behind him, Liam could hear Enya giggling.

Chapter Text

A small, cold, damp nose pulled Enya out of her erotic daydream. She looked down to find Gremlin eagerly trying to get her attention. “Hey there, little rascal,” she cooed softly, careful not to wake anyone. Gently, she ran her fingers through his fur. “What do you want from me?” she asked, as though the dog could understand every word.

And, as if he truly did, Gremlin turned around, padded over to his bowl, nudged it with his nose, and then looked back at her expectantly. Stifling a giggle, Enya got to her feet. “You do know gremlins aren’t supposed to be fed after midnight, right? They turn into little monsters if you do,” she teased lightly.

When she checked the bowl, she noticed it wasn’t food he was after—his water dish was empty. “Ah, that’s the problem. You’re thirsty,” she said as she bent down to pick up the bowl and refill it with fresh water. “Here you go. Enjoy.” She placed the bowl back where it belonged and watched as Gremlin sniffed at it briefly before drinking in small, careful laps.
Enya knelt on the floor, waiting.

And then, suddenly, the memories came flooding back—uninvited and unrelenting. Her mind dragged her back to last month, to the horrifying image of poor little Gremlin convulsing on the floor, not far from where she was sitting now, fighting for his life.

That bastard Ryan had broken into Jayden’s apartment while Enya was at her therapy session and poisoned Gremlin’s food. “May that piece of scum rot in hell for what he’s done,” she thought bitterly as Gremlin snorted and shoved his head under her arm.

“Someone’s feeling needy, huh?” she murmured, smiling as she scratched behind his ears. “Do you have any idea how grateful I am that you’re okay, Gremmy?” Gremlin responded by licking her face, catching her off guard.
“Ugh, Gremmy! Not with that wet nose,” she laughed, wiping the slobber off her cheek with her sleeve. But as her gaze drifted to the kitchen table, she froze.

Suddenly, it was as if she could see herself sitting there—curled up beneath the table, sobbing, shaking, completely paralyzed while she bled out on the inside. Unconsciously, Enya’s fingers brushed over the scar just below her right breast, where the surgeons had cut her open to save her life.

Enya closed her eyes, a deep, trembling breath coursing through her body as the dark memories surged forward. Her fingers traced over the scar, a rough, imperfect line of skin that stood as a constant reminder of that night—the night Ryan had almost stolen her life.

But the memories wouldn’t stop. Enya shuddered as she saw herself again, bent over the kitchen table, pinned under Ryan’s weight. His hand pressed her head hard against the surface while he ground his hips against her backside. She could see him leaning in close, his vile breath warm against her ear as he whispered, “Did that bastard Jayden fuck you right here on this table, hmm?”

The echo of Ryan’s voice in her mind made her flinch. “Let’s see how he likes it when I fuck you on this table. With this.” She could still see the knife in his hand, the one he had used to stab Liam just moments before.

That was the breaking point. Her fight-or-flight instinct took over, and her body chose to fight. Summoning what felt like superhuman strength, she shoved Ryan back and grabbed the empty beer bottle on the table. With every ounce of power she had, she smashed it against his head.

The shattering glass echoed through her mind, yanking her violently back to the present. Her body trembled as hot tears rolled down her cheeks. Her breaths came in short, sharp gasps, her chest tightening so much it felt like she couldn’t breathe—as if the very air around her was suffocating her.

Enya staggered to her feet, the weight of her memories pressing on her chest like a physical force. Her legs trembled as she made her way to the window. She fumbled with the latch, her fingers clumsy and shaky, before finally throwing it open. A gust of cool night air swept into the room, caressing her tear-streaked face and offering a momentary reprieve from the suffocating heat building inside her.

Her hands gripped the windowsill tightly as she leaned forward, trying to steady her breathing. Her heart still thundered in her chest, her vision blurred from the tears she hadn’t even realized she was crying.

“You’re safe,” she whispered to herself, her voice quivering. “He’s gone. He can’t hurt you anymore.”
The words felt hollow at first, a mere echo of what Dr. Hayes had told her so many times before. But then she remembered the technique her therapist had taught her—the simple act of controlling her breath, one step at a time.

She straightened up slightly, closing her eyes as the cool air continued to flow over her face. “Four in,” she murmured, inhaling deeply through her nose and counting to four in her mind. The air filled her lungs, cool and crisp, like a cleansing wave.
“Four hold.” She held her breath, counting slowly in her head, forcing her thoughts to focus solely on the rhythm of her breathing rather than the chaos within her mind.
“Four out,” she exhaled through her mouth, slow and deliberate, letting the tension in her body ebb away with the breath.
“Four hold.” Her lungs remained empty as she counted again, grounding herself in the simplicity of the exercise.
She repeated the cycle, her inner voice steadying as she whispered the counts under her breath. “Four in. Four hold. Four out. Four hold.”

With each cycle, the tightness in her chest loosened a little more. The racing of her heart slowed, and her breaths grew steadier.
“You’re okay, Enya,” she murmured to herself. “It’s over. You survived.”
She opened her eyes and gazed out into the quiet night. The stars twinkled faintly in the sky, indifferent to her turmoil, but their stillness offered a strange sort of comfort.
Her grip on the windowsill softened. She released a shaky sigh, her shoulders sagging as the tension bled out of her muscles.

Enya kept her gaze fixed on the stars, the silver light of the moon casting a soft glow over the quiet world outside. The cool night air brushed against her skin, but it no longer felt biting—it was grounding, a gentle reminder of her presence in the here and now.
She didn’t hear Liam approach, but the warmth of his body suddenly pressing against her back made her exhale a breath she didn’t know she’d been holding. His arms wrapped around her waist, pulling her into a steady embrace.

“Everything okay?” Liam’s voice was soft, barely above a whisper, his breath warm against her ear.
Enya nodded, the motion slow and deliberate. “Yeah, I’m okay.”
Liam rested his chin lightly on her shoulder, his tone laced with concern. “Then why are you standing at an open window in the middle of the night? And freezing your ass off, I might add.”
A faint smile tugged at her lips. “Just needed a moment to breathe.”

They stood there for a while, silent but connected, their eyes both drawn to the glittering expanse of stars above. The air between them was calm but heavy with unspoken words.
After a moment, Liam broke the silence, his voice quiet and steady. “Do you want to talk about it?”
Enya hesitated, her fingers tightening slightly on the windowsill. She closed her eyes, feeling the steady rise and fall of Liam’s chest against her back, a quiet reassurance that she wasn’t alone. Finally, she nodded.
“Yeah,” she whispered, her voice barely audible.

Liam pressed a soft kiss to the side of her head before stepping back. Enya turned, her eyes meeting his, and with a small, shaky smile, she reached out to close the window.

Enya turned from the window, her arms crossing instinctively over her chest as she moved toward the kitchen. She leaned back against the counter, the cool surface pressing into her palms grounding her further. Liam followed her, standing close enough that his body heat wrapped around her like a shield against the chill still lingering on her skin.

Without a word, he reached out and began to stroke her arms gently, his touch light and reassuring. His eyes searched hers, filled with quiet concern.
“Was it a flashback?” he asked softly.
Enya swallowed and nodded, her gaze dropping to the floor. “Yeah.”
Liam’s hands never stopped their soothing motion, and the warmth of his presence gave her the strength to continue. “Sometimes I feel like... like I’m never going to be free of it. Of him. It’s like he’s still here, in every corner of this place, even though Jay did everything he could to make it new for me while I was in the hospital.”
Her voice faltered, and she bit her lip, hating how weak she sounded. Liam took a small step closer, his calm presence unwavering.

“You’ve been through hell, Enya,” he said gently. “No one expects you to just snap your fingers and move on. But maybe…” He hesitated, choosing his words carefully. “Maybe it’s time to talk to Jay about it. If being here keeps pulling you back to those memories, maybe it’s not where you need to be. We could find another place—one where you can feel safe. A fresh start.”
Enya glanced up at him, the sincerity in his expression making her throat tighten. She nodded slowly, tears threatening to well up again, but this time, they weren’t just from sadness. There was a flicker of hope, small but real, in Liam’s words.

“You really think he’d understand?” she asked, her voice tentative.
Liam gave her a faint smile, one that carried a quiet strength. “Enya, Jay would move heaven and earth for you. You know that.”
She exhaled shakily, leaning just slightly into Liam’s steadying presence. “Thank you,” she whispered, her voice soft but filled with gratitude.
“Always,” Liam replied, his hands still resting lightly on her arms, their shared silence in the kitchen feeling like a safe harbor in the storm of her thoughts.

After a few moments of silence, Liam leaned in closer, his familiar, cheeky charm slipping through his words. “Alright, love,” he said, sniffing dramatically near her hair. “What’s this magic potion you’re using? Smells like coconut, and I’m half-tempted to nick it for meself.”
Enya couldn’t help but laugh softly, her shoulders relaxing as his playful tone chipped away at the heaviness in the air. Before she could reply, Liam’s hands slid to her waist, and with ease, he lifted her onto the counter.

The cold surface against her bare skin made her yelp quietly, a sharp sound breaking the comfortable stillness. Liam’s grin faltered as he frowned, concern flickering in his eyes. “What’s wrong? Are you alright?”
Enya gave him a reassuring smile, brushing a strand of hair from her face. “I’m fine. It’s just…” She hesitated, her cheeks warming with embarrassment. “I’m a little… sore.”

The realization hit Liam instantly, and his expression shifted to one of sheepish guilt. “Ah, bugger. That’s my fault, innit?” he murmured, gently cupping her face. He kissed her tenderly, the gesture filled with unspoken apologies. When he pulled back, he leaned close to her ear, his voice a husky whisper. “I’ll make it up to you, promise.”
Without waiting for a response, he began trailing soft kisses down her neck, his lips grazing her skin with deliberate care. Enya melted into his touch, the tension ebbing away as she closed her eyes and surrendered to the moment.

But as her hand moved instinctively to his chest, her fingers brushed over the scar there. Liam hissed softly, the sharp intake of breath breaking the spell.
Enya’s eyes snapped open, her brows furrowing in concern. “Liam? Is it still hurting?”
Liam hesitated, his hand covering hers atop the scar. “Sometimes,” he admitted quietly. “It’s not always pain. It’s more like… a memory, you know? Like my body won’t let me forget.”

Now it was Enya's turn to lighten the situation and distract Liam.
Enya tilted her head, her gaze searching his, and then a playful glint sparked in her eyes. “You know what really hurts, though?”
Liam’s worry deepened immediately, his grip on her hand tightening slightly. “What is it? What hurts?”
Smirking, Enya leaned forward, her forehead pressing lightly against his as she murmured, “My asshole.”
The shock on Liam’s face was almost comical, and then his laughter erupted, full-bodied and infectious. “Bloody hell, Enya,” he choked out between chuckles. “You’re wicked, you are.”
He stepped closer, wrapping his arms around her. “I really am sorry, though,” he said, his voice softer now but still laced with humor. “Let me make it up to you, yeah? How about I carry you to bed like the queen you are?”

Before she could protest, Liam scooped her up effortlessly, her laughter joining his as he carried her down the hall. Their shared joy warmed the space between them, washing away the lingering shadows of their pasts, at least for a little while.

Liam gently laid Enya down on the bed, his movements tender yet charged with intensity. As he leaned over her and captured her lips in a fervent kiss, his hand began to wander over her body. A soft giggle escaped Enya's lips.
"Shhh," Liam murmured with a crooked grin, placing a finger over her mouth. "We don’t want to wake dear Jayden now, do we?"

Enya’s gaze shifted to the side, where Jayden lay, seemingly fast asleep. But the faint, telltale smile tugging at the corners of his lips made her smirk. "Oh, he’s definitely awake," she whispered conspiratorially.
Jayden let out a low grumble, burrowing his head deeper into the pillow. "I am not. I’m sound asleep. Don’t mind me."
Enya bit her lower lip, her eyes sparkling mischievously. "If you say so," she muttered, feeling a playful idea bubbling up inside her. She reached for Liam’s hand, guiding it upwards until it covered her mouth.

“What…?” Liam’s eyes widened slightly, his confusion mingling with intrigue. But the glimmer in her eyes stopped him in his tracks. "I think it’d be... exciting," she breathed softly, "if you were the one to keep me quiet."
The weight of her suggestion ignited something in Liam, his mind processing her words like a slow-burning fuse. His gaze flickered between her and Jayden, who remained half-buried in the pillow.

"Goddammit, Enya," Jayden finally muttered, his tone caught between exasperation and amusement. "Anyone would think you’ve made a kinky New Year’s resolution list."
"Maybe I have," she teased, sticking her tongue out at him. "Or maybe I just want to try new things—with both of you." Her voice turned softer but no less resolute. "Life’s too short for vanilla sex."

Liam’s grin grew wider, almost feral, as he kissed her again—wild and unrestrained, utterly captivated. "God, baby, you’re incredible," he murmured between kisses. Then, meeting her gaze with a playful yet daring glint, he added, "Alright, darling. You want hot, hard sex? You want me to keep you quiet? You’ll get exactly what you’re asking for."

Enya barely had time to process what was happening before Liam tore her panties away with a feral intensity. He didn’t bother with her shirt, didn’t care for slow undressing. Her daring suggestion had ignited something primal in him, and she could feel his urgency, his cock already hard and throbbing.

With a low groan, Liam freed himself and stroked his length a few times, his breaths heavy with desire. But before he took her, his fingers slid along her slick heat, checking if she was also ready for him. Feeling her arousal, he growled, a sound deep and possessive. He brought his fingers to his lips, tasting her, then pressed them lightly to Enya’s mouth, his gaze burning into hers.

Leaning down, he positioned himself and whispered into her ear, his voice rough and commanding, "Now shut your fucking mouth. We don’t want to wake Jayden, do we?"
Enya’s nod was obedient, her breath hitching as anticipation coiled in her stomach. A moan escaped her lips anyway, louder than intended, as Liam plunged into her with one powerful thrust. The sheer force of him made her eyes roll back in ecstasy, her body arching to meet his rhythm.

His pace was relentless, each thrust hard and fast, leaving her gasping. "Just like that. Be a good girl," Liam groaned, his voice thick with desire. Enya’s fingernails dug into his arm, the pressure grounding her against the overwhelming sensations.

Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed Jayden, still lying on his side. But he wasn’t feigning sleep anymore. His gaze was fixed on them, dark and hungry.
A particularly deep thrust tore a sharp cry from Enya, and Liam’s focus briefly shifted, catching Jayden’s intent stare.

Liam’s thrusts slowed for a moment as he caught sight of Jayden watching them. A smirk tugged at the corner of his lips. “Well, well, looks like someone couldn’t keep quiet after all,” he teased, his voice low and dripping with amusement. His hand slid up to Enya’s jaw, tilting her face toward his. “You woke him up, love.”

Enya’s cheeks flushed, her lips parting to protest, but Liam didn’t give her a chance to speak. “Shhh,” he hushed her, his thumb brushing over her lower lip. “You know what that means, don’t you?” His eyes glinted with mischief as his free hand traced a slow, tantalizing line down her body.
Jayden, still propped on his side, raised an eyebrow, his lips curving into a lazy grin. “You’re in trouble now,” he murmured, his tone laced with both humor and intrigue.
Enya squirmed beneath Liam, torn between embarrassment and excitement. “What... what are you going to do?” she whispered, her voice trembling slightly but full of anticipation.

Liam leaned down, his mouth brushing her ear as he whispered, “Punish you, of course. But don’t worry, darling—I’ll make sure you enjoy every second of it.”
Without breaking eye contact with Jayden, Liam adjusted his grip on Enya’s hips, pulling her even closer to him. His pace picked up again, rougher this time, his movements deliberate and teasing. Each thrust seemed to send a message, not just to Enya but to the man watching them.

Jayden’s grin widened as he propped himself up further, the tension in the room thickening. “You two are insatiable,” he drawled, his voice low but amused.
Liam shot him a quick glance, his smirk widening. “And you’re still watching. Careful, mate, or I might think you want to join in.”

Jayden chuckled softly at Liam’s words, his expression a blend of amusement and temptation. “Well, you’re not exactly making it easy to look away,” he replied smoothly, his eyes flicking between them. “But if you’re offering…”
Before Jayden could finish, Liam’s gaze sharpened, and his grip on Enya’s hips tightened possessively. “Not tonight,” he growled, his voice deep and firm. “She’s mine right now. Every inch of her.”
Enya gasped softly, her heart racing at the raw intensity in Liam’s tone. His hands moved over her body with deliberate intent, as if marking his claim.

Jayden leaned back slightly, raising his hands in mock surrender, though a sly smile played on his lips. “Fair enough. I wouldn’t want to interrupt your… moment,” he said smoothly, but the heat in his gaze lingered as he made no move to leave.
Liam shot him a warning look. “Then enjoy the view,” he muttered, his attention snapping back to Enya as he pressed his forehead to hers. His voice softened, taking on a tender edge even as his movements remained firm and deliberate. “But tonight, love, you’re all mine.”

Enya shivered at his words, her hands clutching at Liam’s shoulders as the moment wrapped around them like a cocoon, shutting out everything but the heat and the unspoken promises between them.
Liam’s lips brushed against Enya’s ear as he whispered, “Now, where were we?”

Liam’s movements intensified, his pace relentless and unyielding, each thrust sending shockwaves through Enya’s body. She clung to him, her breaths coming in shallow gasps, her senses overwhelmed by his dominance.

Suddenly, Liam’s hand gently yet firmly gripped her chin, turning her head to the side until her gaze locked with Jayden’s. The heat in Jayden’s eyes was undeniable, his expression one of restrained desire and fascination.
“Look at him,” Liam commanded, his voice rough and dripping with authority. “Don’t you dare look away. When you come, I want him to see exactly what I do to you.”
Enya whimpered at his words, her cheeks flushed with a mix of embarrassment and arousal. The intensity of Jayden’s stare burned through her, amplifying the sensations Liam was igniting within her.

“Good girl,” Liam growled, his hand sliding down her body to grip her hip tightly, his thrusts driving deeper. “Let him see how much you love this. How much you love being mine.”
Enya’s body trembled as the pressure built within her, her hands clutching at the sheets. Her gaze remained locked with Jayden’s, her lips parting in a silent cry as the climax overtook her. Her vision blurred, but she never looked away, just as Liam had commanded.
As her cries filled the room, Liam slowed his movements just enough to let her catch her breath, leaning down to press a possessive kiss to her shoulder. “That’s my girl,” he murmured, his voice low and filled with satisfaction.

Liam felt Enya trembling beneath him, the aftershocks of her climax sending waves through her body and driving him into a frenzy. His grip on her hips tightened, his movements relentless and fierce, every thrust a declaration of his dominance and desire.
“Fuck, Enya,” he growled, his voice rough with lust. His gaze burned into hers as he turned her head back toward Jayden. “Stay with him. Let him see how I take you. Until the end.”

Enya bit her lip, her body still sensitive, but she obeyed. Jayden lay completely still, his eyes locked with hers, watching every moment with unrestrained hunger as Liam maintained his rhythm.
The tension inside Liam built rapidly, a deep growl rumbling from his chest as he began to lose control. His thrusts became erratic, harder, and with a final burst of intensity, he gripped Enya’s wrists and pinned them above her head against the mattress.

With one last, powerful thrust, Liam stilled, buried deep inside her as his body shuddered with the force of his release. His hands remained around her wrists as he leaned forward, pressing his forehead against hers.
“Fuck, baby,” he murmured breathlessly, a satisfied grin spreading across his lips, “you drive me insane.”

Slowly, he released her wrists, his thumbs brushing over the red marks left on her skin. He eased out of her carefully, collapsing beside her and pulling her close, his arm draped protectively around her waist.
“Jayden,” Liam said finally, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth as he avoided looking directly at him. “Your turn, if you’ve still got it in you.”
Enya giggled softly, her head resting on Liam’s shoulder, while Jayden let out a deep, amused laugh, the sound vibrating through the room.

Jayden propped himself up on an elbow, his gaze lingering on Enya. She looked utterly blissful, her cheeks flushed, her lips slightly parted, and her body still pressed close to Liam’s. Her chest rose and fell with deep, contented breaths, and he couldn’t help but smile softly.

“Nah,” Jayden said after a moment, his voice low and warm, “I think she’s had enough for one night.”
Liam chuckled, his hand lazily tracing patterns along Enya’s side. “Your loss, mate.”
Jayden rolled his eyes but got up from the bed, stretching before walking over to the other side where Enya lay nestled against Liam. He leaned down and brushed a soft kiss to her temple.
“You okay, love?” he murmured.

Enya nodded sleepily, her smile radiant as she tilted her head to look at him. “Perfect,” she whispered.
Jayden’s fingers grazed her cheek briefly before he glanced at Liam. “You’ve worn her out, you animal.”
Liam grinned proudly, pulling Enya even closer. “Couldn’t help myself.”
Jayden shook his head in mock exasperation but returned to his spot on the bed, sliding under the covers. He adjusted the blanket over all three of them, ensuring Enya was snug between them.
“Let’s just get some sleep, yeah?” Jayden said, his voice softening as he settled in. “We’ve got all the time in the world.”

Enya sighed contentedly as Liam kissed her hair, his hand still resting possessively on her waist. Jayden reached over to hold one of her hands, their fingers intertwining.
Within minutes, the room fell into a peaceful silence, their breaths syncing as they drifted off to sleep, wrapped in the warmth of each other’s presence.

Unbeknownst to Enya, this night would be the last time she shared such closeness with Liam.

Chapter Text

Lexy blinked sleepily into the faint morning light streaming through the curtains. Her head felt clear, but her body was... pinned? It took her a moment to realize that Daniel was lying on top of her like a human sandbag. His face was buried in her neck, and he was snoring softly.
For a brief moment, panic shot through her. "Oh God, did we...?" She held her breath and glanced down at herself and Daniel. Fully clothed. He was still wearing his wrinkled shirt from last night, and her own clothes were untouched. She let out a relieved breath.

Then the memories came flooding back. The drinking contest. The absurd attempt to prove who could handle more. And the inevitable end: both of them drunk and laughing, collapsing onto the couch. "At least no drama," she thought with a small grin.
Since she didn't have a hangover—her genius for drinking water in between was paying off—she decided to take the opportunity to tease Daniel a bit.

"GET UP, YOU IDIOT!" she yelled as loudly as she could right into his ear.
Daniel groaned in agony. "What the... Lexy, why are you yelling? My head's about to explode..."
"Are you going to let me go, or do you want to keep using me as a mattress?" she asked dryly.
He mumbled something incomprehensible, slowly sitting up and rubbing his forehead. His face was a mix of pain and confusion.

It was only then that Lexy noticed a wet spot on her shirt. She looked down in irritation, and the penny dropped. Daniel had apparently drooled in her cleavage while he slept.
"Daniel, you cunting fuck!" she exclaimed, her voice a mix of amusement and disgust. "YOU DROOLED ON ME!"
He stared at her in confusion. "What? I did what?"
"Yes, you drooled all over me!" She pointed to the damp spot, unsure whether to laugh or be grossed out.
Daniel was silent for a moment, then shrugged and grinned weakly. "Hey, at least it's not vomit, right?"
Lexy grabbed a pillow and threw it at his face. "You're disgusting, Daniel."
"And you're too loud," he mumbled, pulling the pillow over his head. "Just let me die... quietly."

But Lexy had already noticed the lovely smell of fresh coffee. "Forget it. You're getting coffee and a lecture on why I won while you hopelessly lost."
"Why do you hate me?" came the muffled response from under the pillow.
"I ask myself that sometimes," she replied with a grin, heading toward the kitchen.

As Lexy stepped into the kitchen, the comforting aroma of freshly brewed coffee hit her. There, by the counter, was Enya, still in her pajamas, cradling Gremlin in her arms. The little dog wagged his tail happily as Enya scratched his ears, cooing softly to him.
"Morning," Lexy greeted, her voice still a bit hoarse from sleep.

Enya looked up and grinned. "Morning, you look surprisingly... alive."
"Hydration is key," Lexy quipped with a smirk, grabbing a mug from the cupboard. She poured herself a generous helping of coffee, inhaling deeply before taking a sip.
"So, you survived the great drinking battle of New Year’s Eve, huh?" Enya teased, watching as Lexy pulled out a chair and plopped down at the kitchen table.
"Not just survived. I won," Lexy replied smugly, taking another sip. "Though I woke up with a human-sized leech drooling on me."
Enya snorted. "Daniel?"
"Daniel," Lexy confirmed. "Honestly, it’s a miracle he’s still breathing. I was tempted to smother him with a couch cushion."
The two women laughed quietly, enjoying the peaceful morning and the warmth of their coffee. It didn’t last long.

Daniel appeared in the doorway, his hair a tousled mess, his eyes squinting against the light. He shuffled into the room like a zombie, muttering, "Morning," before collapsing into the chair next to Lexy.
"Well, if it isn’t my drooly drinking partner," Lexy greeted with a saccharine tone.
Daniel groaned. "Please, not so loud. My brain is trying to claw its way out of my skull."
Enya raised an eyebrow. "Rough night, Daniel? You look like you fought a bear and lost."
"More like drank himself under the table," Lexy added with a grin.
Daniel buried his face in his hands. "Why do I feel like this kitchen has turned into a roast session? I'm not awake enough for this."

Enya leaned forward with a playful smirk. "Would you prefer we whisper sweet nothings to you? 'Oh, Daniel, you’re so strong and brave for surviving that third round of shots.'”
Lexy joined in, clasping her hands dramatically. "And such a gentleman for not throwing up on me. Truly, a hero among men."
Daniel groaned louder and let his head drop onto the table. "I hate both of you."
Enya grinned, sipping her coffee. "You love us."
Lexy patted him on the back. "Come on, champ. There’s coffee. Maybe it’ll bring you back from the dead."
Daniel lifted his head just enough to glare at her. "I’m never drinking again."
Both women burst out laughing.
"Sure, Daniel," Enya said, shaking her head. "I’ll believe that when I see it."

Enya looked over at Lexy with a smile. “Do you want anything special for breakfast? I can whip something up.”
Lexy leaned back in her chair, pondering for a moment. “Rührei,” she said with a grin.
“Rührei? What's that?” Enya repeated, her curiosity piqued.
“Scrambled eggs,” Lexy clarified. “The way we make it in Germany. Proper scrambled eggs with crispy bacon and onions, a slice of fantastic fresh bread, and a strong coffee. It’s the breakfast of champions.”

Before Enya could respond, Daniel groaned from his seat, cutting them off. “Please, please don’t talk about food. If you keep going, I swear I’m going to throw up.”
The two women exchanged a silent look, and identical mischievous grins spread across their faces. They didn’t need to say a word; they both knew what the other was thinking.

Enya took a sip of her coffee and leaned forward, her voice deliberately loud. “Oh, you know what I love even more than scrambled eggs? Soft-boiled eggs. You know, the kind where the yolk is so runny it slides right off the spoon when you try to eat it.”
Daniel made a choking sound, his face turning slightly green as he visibly tried to keep himself composed.

Lexy noticed his discomfort and decided she wasn’t about to let him off the hook. “Oh, that’s nothing,” she said, waving a hand dismissively. “In Norway, there’s this traditional dish where they serve sheep’s head. They cook it whole, eyes and all.”
Daniel’s eyes widened in horror. “Oh, God,” he muttered before bolting from his chair and sprinting toward the bathroom.
The sound of retching echoed faintly down the hall.

Meanwhile, in the kitchen, Lexy and Enya burst into uncontrollable laughter, tears streaming down their faces as they leaned against the table for support.
Lexy held up her hand, and Enya slapped it with a loud high five.
“Too easy,” Lexy said between fits of laughter.
“Way too easy,” Enya agreed, still giggling as she wiped her eyes.

Still laughing, Lexy and Enya were wiping tears from their eyes when Jayden stepped into the kitchen. His hair was a mess, and he looked adorably half-asleep. “What’s so funny? And what’s Daniel’s problem this time?” he asked, his voice laced with curiosity.
Enya smirked, tilting her head toward Lexy. “Oh, he wasn’t too thrilled about the idea of sheep’s head for breakfast.”

Jayden blinked, clearly confused for a moment, before shaking his head with a soft chuckle. He walked over to Lexy first, placing a quick kiss on her cheek in greeting, then turned to Enya, pulling her close for a much longer, heated kiss.
When he finally let her go, his eyes sparkled with mischief. “So, what’s for breakfast?”
Enya grinned cheekily. “Me,” she said, her tone dripping with playful sarcasm.
Jayden raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued by the suggestion. His lips parted, ready to respond, but before he could say anything, Lexy groaned dramatically, cutting in.

“Absolutely not,” she said, holding up a hand. “I am not watching whatever weird breakfast shenanigans you two are planning. Keep that off the menu, thanks.”
Jayden laughed, ruffling Lexy’s hair as she swatted his hand away. “Don’t worry, Lexy. We’ll keep it PG for you,” he teased.
“Better,” Lexy replied, rolling her eyes. “Now, can we please focus on actual food? Like, I don’t know, something normal? Rührei, perhaps?”
Enya chuckled, giving Jayden a playful nudge. “Guess I’ll have to save the ‘me’ option for later.”

“Looking forward to it,” he murmured with a wink, making Lexy groan again as she dramatically covered her ears.
“Ugh, you two are the worst,” she grumbled, though the amused smile on her face betrayed her.

As the group settled into their usual morning banter, the sound of heavy, uneven footsteps announced Liam's arrival. His hair stuck up in all directions, his shirt was inside out, and he looked like he’d just survived a war. Without a word, he grumbled a barely audible, “Morning,” and shuffled straight to the coffee pot.

After pouring himself a cup and taking a long sip, Liam leaned against the counter and squinted at the group. “Alright,” he began, his voice low and gravelly. “What’s for breakfast, and what the hell is Daniel doing in the bathroom? Sounds like he’s being exorcised.”
Lexy smirked from her spot at the table, casually twirling her spoon. “Oh, he might be nursing a tiny hangover,” she said innocently.
Liam raised an eyebrow. “Tiny? He sounds like he’s auditioning for The Exorcist. What did you lot do to him?”
Lexy shrugged, a sly grin playing on her lips. “Just...talking about traditional breakfast dishes. And the remainders of our drinking contest last night did the rest.”

Enya, meanwhile, was busy cracking eggs into a bowl, humming a tune as she prepared breakfast. Jayden stepped up beside her, rolling up his sleeves. “Need a hand?” he offered with a warm smile.
Enya paused, glancing at him with mock suspicion. “You? Helping in the kitchen? Who are you, and what have you done with Jayden?”
Jayden feigned offense, clutching his chest dramatically. “I’m offended. I happen to be an excellent sous chef.”
“Really?” Enya teased, handing him a whisk. “Prove it, then. Start with this.”

As they worked together, the playful banter between them didn’t stop. Jayden whisked the eggs with exaggerated movements, pretending to struggle, while Enya rolled her eyes and showed him how it was done.
“You’re hopeless,” she laughed, nudging him aside with her hip.
“Hopelessly charming,” he corrected, earning an amused snort from Liam, who took another sip of his coffee.
“Get a room,” Liam muttered, though there was a faint smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.

Lexy leaned back in her chair, watching the two with a mix of amusement and mild exasperation. “They’re like a couple of teenagers,” she remarked to Liam, who nodded in agreement.
“Yeah, and somehow, I’m stuck in this sitcom with them,” Liam quipped, making Lexy laugh.
As the smell of sizzling bacon and fresh eggs filled the air, even Liam’s grumpy demeanor began to soften. The lighthearted energy in the kitchen was infectious, and despite the chaos of the morning, it was shaping up to be a good start to the day.

In Liam’s bedroom, Michael finished adjusting the hem of his shirt. The shower had done little to wash away the restless energy coiling in his chest. He could hear Lexy’s laughter echoing faintly from the kitchen, and the sound tugged at something inside him—something raw and annoyingly possessive.

His mind wandered to the image of last night: Lexy and Daniel, tangled up together on the couch, fast asleep. Daniel, always so unabashedly touchy, had practically wrapped himself around her, his face nuzzled against her shoulder like a contented cat. Michael had felt the heat rise in his chest then, but now it was a full-blown fire.

He clenched his jaw, his fingers tightening reflexively around the edge of Liam’s dresser. Why does it bother me so much? he wondered, a bitter edge to the thought. It wasn’t like he and Lexy were in a relationship. They were... what? Friends with benefits? Occasional lovers? Whatever it was, it wasn’t exclusive. So why did the sight of Daniel, his best friend, sleeping so innocently close to her, feel like a punch to the gut?

Michael sighed heavily and ran a hand through his damp hair. Get a grip, man. This is ridiculous. He couldn’t afford to be the jealous type—not here, not now, not ever. And certainly not over Lexy, who would probably laugh in his face if she knew.
“Just go to the kitchen,” he muttered to himself, rolling his shoulders to ease the tension. “Get a coffee, get those two in the car, and drive home. Everything’s fine. Just like always.”

The pep talk helped—if only a little. He shook out his arms, stretched his neck until it cracked, and straightened his posture. Forcing a neutral expression onto his face, Michael opened the bedroom door and stepped into the hallway.
The hum of conversation grew louder as he neared the kitchen, punctuated by bursts of laughter. He steeled himself, preparing to act normal, even as the irrational jealousy continued to simmer just beneath the surface.

Michael stepped into the living room, his path to the kitchen briefly interrupted by the sight of Daniel sprawled across the couch. One arm was draped over his face, shielding him from the morning light spilling through the windows. He was muttering something under his breath, too quiet to make out but with a distinct tone of misery.

Michael smirked faintly and crossed his arms. “Rough morning?”
Daniel groaned, shifting slightly but refusing to uncover his face. “I feel like I’m dying.”
“Yeah, that’ll happen when you drink half the bar,” Michael quipped, leaning casually against the arm of the couch.
Daniel peeked at him from beneath his arm, squinting. “I don’t need a lecture right now, mate.” His voice was hoarse, every word laced with regret. “What I need is a miracle—or a bloody time machine.”

Michael chuckled. “Well, I can’t help with either of those, but maybe some coffee will do the trick?”
“Exactly my point.” Daniel let his arm flop back over his face dramatically. “Be a decent human being and bring me one, will you?”
Michael raised an eyebrow. “What’s stopping you from getting it yourself?”
Daniel groaned again, waving a hand toward the kitchen. “The smell. Whatever they’re making in there, it’s... offensive. And those two harpies are definitely going to take the piss as soon as I show my face.”

Michael rolled his eyes but couldn’t suppress a sympathetic grin. “Fine, I’ll get you a coffee. But only because you’re pitiful right now.”
“You’re a saint,” Daniel mumbled, already settling back into his position like he planned to stay there all day.
Michael shook his head, muttering under his breath as he made his way toward the kitchen. Can’t even get his own damn coffee. Unbelievable.

As he stepped into the warm, bustling kitchen, the smell of frying bacon and fresh coffee greeted him, along with the cheerful hum of conversation. He was met by the sight of Lexy and Enya, both seated at the table, laughing about something that clearly wasn’t Daniel’s idea of funny.
“Morning,” Michael said, his voice cutting through the chatter as he grabbed a mug from the counter. “Don’t mind me—just here to rescue Daniel before he expires on your couch.”
The two women exchanged a knowing glance, their smiles widening.

“Oh, he’s alive then?” Lexy asked innocently. “That’s a shame. I thought we’d finally managed to kill him off.”
Enya laughed. “Guess we’ll have to try harder next time.”
Michael sighed, already regretting his decision to intervene on Daniel’s behalf. “You two are relentless.”
Lexy grinned. “It’s a talent.”
Pouring a cup of coffee, Michael tried not to laugh as he imagined Daniel’s reaction when he relayed the conversation. He’s never going to live this down.

Michael set the freshly poured coffee down on the table, leaning casually against the counter as he turned to Lexy with a playful smirk. “Talents, huh? Well, I can certainly think of a few.”
Lexy raised an eyebrow at him, her expression caught somewhere between amusement and suspicion. “Oh yeah? Like what?”
Michael didn’t hesitate. “Well, you’ve definitely got a knack for driving people crazy… and I don’t just mean when it comes to drinking.”
Lexy raised an eyebrow, but before she could respond, Michael added, “Though I’d bet you’re pretty… enduring in other areas too. Like, say… in bed.”

The implication hit immediately, and Lexy, mid-sip of her coffee, sputtered and coughed as she tried to swallow. She set her cup down hastily, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand as a faint blush crept into her cheeks.
Across the table, Enya burst into laughter, joined by Jayden and even Liam, who couldn’t hold back a grin.
“You’re such an ass,” Lexy choked out, her voice rasping from the near-choking incident.
Michael feigned innocence, his grin widening. “Hey, I’m just giving credit where it’s due.”

As the laughter subsided, Jayden turned to Michael, still chuckling. “You’re in rare form today. Speaking of talent, though, you up for joining me at the studio later? I’ve got a few tracks recorded—might be fun to get your take. Maybe even lay down a drum part or two if you’re feeling up to it.”
Michael’s grin softened into something more genuine as he nodded. “Yeah, sounds good. I’m curious to hear what you’ve been working on. Count me in.”

Lexy perked up at the mention of music, her mischievous streak kicking in again. “Ooh, speaking of jamming, we should do that sometime in the rehearsal space. A full-blown jam session. Like the good old days.” She nudged Liam with her elbow, her eyes sparkling with excitement. “C’mon, wouldn’t that be fun? You, me, Mikey and Jay—like when we were kids.”
Liam’s smile faltered just a little, his gaze dropping to his plate as he pushed his food around absentmindedly. “Yeah, sure,” he muttered, his voice lacking the usual enthusiasm.

The energy in the room dipped slightly, but Lexy didn’t press him, choosing instead to sip her coffee and let the moment pass.
Michael, sensing the shift, grabbed the coffee he’d poured for Daniel and straightened up. “Alright, time to go save our poor couch potato from his misery.”
As he turned to leave, Lexy called after him, her tone laced with mock sweetness. “Hey, Michael, don’t forget—I’ve got plenty of talents. Let me know if you need a reminder.”
Michael shot her a look over his shoulder, his grin sharp as ever. “Oh, don’t worry, Lex. I’ve got a pretty vivid imagination.”

Lexy rolled her eyes, though she couldn’t suppress the grin tugging at her lips. The rest of the kitchen burst into laughter again as Michael disappeared into the living room, the sound of Daniel’s distant groaning signaling the start of another round of teasing.

Michael handed Daniel the coffee, which he accepted gratefully, taking cautious sips as if the liquid might burn him. Michael sank into the couch beside him, stretching his arms along the backrest, his demeanor casual yet deliberate.
“So…” Michael began, his voice laced with faux nonchalance, “you and Lexy seemed… cozy last night.”

Daniel groaned, lowering the mug slightly to glare at him. “Oh, give me a break. We were drunk, alright? Nothing happened. She’s so not my type. Besides, we’re just mates, you know?”
Michael nodded, his posture relaxing slightly, as if those words had loosened a tight knot in his chest. “Right. Makes sense.”

The two lapsed into silence, the kind that usually accompanied a comfortable hangover morning—until Daniel tilted his head and squinted at Michael, his brow furrowing. “Wait a second… why are you so curious about it? You’re not…” He trailed off, his lips quirking into a grin as a thought seemed to strike him. “Ohhh. You’re into her, aren’t you?”
Michael stiffened, his easy demeanor slipping just for a moment. “What? No. Don’t be ridiculous.”
Daniel wasn’t buying it. “Mate, you’re practically twitching. Spill it. Do you like her or not?”
Michael sighed heavily, leaning forward to rub his hands over his face. “Alright, fine,” he muttered under his breath, his voice barely audible. “She’s… attractive. Happy now?”
Daniel’s grin widened as he leaned back, clearly enjoying this revelation. “Very. Don’t worry, your secret’s safe with me.”

Michael rolled his eyes, but there was a flicker of gratitude in his expression. “Thanks. Not that it matters. She’s completely off-limits—Liam’s sister and all that.”
Daniel chuckled softly, sipping his coffee again. “Fair enough. Though, if you ask me, you two have some serious tension going on.”
Michael didn’t respond, choosing instead to stare at the ceiling, lost in thought. For a while, the two sat together in companionable silence, the sounds of laughter and conversation drifting faintly from the kitchen.

After everyone finished breakfast, they went their separate ways to get ready for the day. Michael lingered in the living room, patiently waiting for Lexy and Daniel to get their things together so they could finally head home. Once the two were ready, they bid their farewells and left Jayden’s apartment, leaving only Jayden, Liam, and Enya behind.

As a brief silence settled over the apartment, Liam pulled Enya aside. His expression was serious yet supportive. “Hey, remember what we talked about last night? I think now’s a good time to bring it up with Jayden.”
Enya hesitated, shifting uncomfortably. “I don’t know, Liam. Maybe it’s not the right moment…”
Liam shook his head firmly. “It’s important, Enya. You can’t keep pushing this off. It’s for your own good.”
Reluctantly, Enya nodded, realizing he was right. “Okay,” she whispered, her nerves palpable. “I’ll talk to him.”

She sank onto the couch, her hands fidgeting in her lap as she waited. Liam announced that he’d take Gremlin for a walk to give them some privacy, then grabbed the leash and left.

A few moments later, Jayden strolled into the living room, letting out a contented sigh. “Ah, the sound of silence. Isn’t it beautiful?” He plopped down on the couch next to Enya, flashing her a warm smile.

At first, he didn’t notice her tension, but as the seconds passed, he tilted his head, concern softening his features. “Hey, what’s wrong?” he asked, his voice gentle.
Enya hesitated, chewing on her bottom lip as she struggled to find the right words. Jayden took her hand in his, giving it a reassuring squeeze. “Take your time,” he said softly. “Whatever it is, I’m here.”

Encouraged by his patience, Enya finally mustered the courage to speak. “I don’t think I can stay here anymore,” she admitted, her voice trembling. “I appreciate everything you and the others did to make this place feel different, but… it’s not enough. No matter what’s changed, it still reminds me of that night.”
Jayden’s brow furrowed, a mix of confusion and worry clouding his expression.

Enya continued, her words tumbling out now that the floodgates had opened. “Last night, I had a terrible flashback. It ended with a panic attack. Liam helped calm me down, but it made me realize something—this place feels… tainted. Like Ryan’s shadow is still here, clinging to everything. I just don’t feel safe anymore.”

Jayden’s grip on her hand tightened ever so slightly, his jaw clenching as he processed her words. Guilt washed over him like a tidal wave. “You had a panic attack? And I wasn’t there…”
Enya shook her head quickly, her voice soothing. “Liam was amazing. He helped me through it. But, Jayden, it’s not about that. It’s about moving forward. I need to feel like I can start fresh, in a place that’s truly ours.”

Jayden exhaled deeply, nodding as he looked into her eyes. “You’re right,” he said after a moment. “I’m so sorry you’ve had to carry this for so long. We’ll find a new place. I’ll call a real estate agent today—something beautiful, something perfect for you.”
Relief flooded Enya’s face, and for the first time in days, she felt a flicker of hope. “Thank you,” she whispered, leaning into him as he wrapped an arm around her.
“You deserve to feel safe and happy,” Jayden murmured, kissing the top of her head. “We’ll make this right. Together.”

While Jayden and Enya were talking in the living room about moving, Liam wandered through the nearby park with Gremlin. The fresh air and the dog’s cheerful energy should have calmed him, but his mind was a tangled mess.

He thought about the previous night, about Enya clinging to him in her panic, her trembling hands gripping his arms as she struggled to breathe. He had done his best to calm her, but it had been a stark reminder of his own weaknesses—moments when no one had been there to catch him.
And then, there was what happened afterward.

The memory of the sex flickered vividly in his mind: raw, unrestrained, and overwhelming. It had been incredible in the moment, but the more he thought about it now, the more it unsettled him. He wasn’t sure when the line between passion and something darker had blurred, but by the end, he had been almost furious. At her? At himself? He didn’t know.
All he remembered was the way his movements had become rougher, more demanding, as if trying to silence the voice in his head that screamed he wasn’t enough—for her, for anyone.

“You’re always there for everyone else, but what about you, Liam?” he muttered under his breath, watching Gremlin chase after a bird.

When he finally returned to the apartment, he could already hear the sound of Enya and Jayden laughing. Their conversation must have ended, and Enya sounded lighter, relieved. It should have made him happy to hear her like that, but instead, a sharp sting of jealousy pierced through him.

“All sorted?” Liam asked as he unclipped Gremlin’s leash.
Jayden nodded and smiled at him. “Yeah. Thanks for encouraging her to talk to me. That was really important.”
“No problem,” Liam replied casually, bending down to take off his shoes.
Enya walked over to him, wrapping him in a brief hug. “Thank you, Liam. Really. You’re the best.”
“Sure,” Liam muttered, pulling back a little sooner than she expected.

He slipped away to his room, closing the door behind him. For a moment, he leaned against it, his gaze fixed on the floor. The pressure in his chest swelled—a dull ache that threatened to consume him.
“You’re the best.” Her words echoed in his mind, but instead of comfort, they felt hollow.

Then the memory hit him again: her body arching under his, her voice calling his name. It should have felt satisfying, empowering, but instead, it left him cold. That mix of vulnerability and intensity had unleashed something in him, something he wasn’t proud of.

He pushed himself off the door, collapsing onto the bed and staring at the ceiling. The thought of always being the one to help, while barely keeping himself together, gnawed at him.
“Maybe I should just disappear,” he whispered into the silence, as Gremlin cautiously nudged the door open with his nose.
Liam forced a weak smile. “Not now, buddy. I’ll figure it out.” But even he didn’t believe his own words.

Chapter Text

Liam lay awake in his bed, the blankets pulled up to his hips, his body too awake to sleep but too exhausted to move. The darkness of the room seemed to crush him, and the pressure on his chest grew heavier with each passing second. He stared at the ceiling, the constant ticking of the clock in the corner of the room the only sound that accompanied him. The silence was suffocating, and his thoughts raced like the wheels of a train that wouldn’t stop.

It was already late, and the morning was slowly creeping in, but Liam couldn’t bring himself to get up. He felt as though sleep had betrayed him—or more accurately, the nightmares that haunted him at night. Over and over, the same scene, Ryan's face, laughing as he tried to fight back. The thought of it made him flinch, his body tensing like a drawn bowstring.
"Why can’t you just stop?" he whispered to himself, the anger in his voice amplifying the heaviness in his chest.

He closed his eyes and tried to push the thought of Ryan away. But every time he pictured Enya, the thought returned. It was as if everything he admired in her—her strength, her vulnerability, her smile—was constantly overshadowed by the memory of Ryan. The image of her in the apartment, sitting together, the way her hand nearly touched his, drove him mad. Yet, he couldn’t help but see in her eyes the memory of the nightmare.

It was as if she was always there, a living reminder of what had happened to him, and he couldn’t understand why his own mind trapped him in this cycle. He liked Enya so much, he knew that. But the burden of seeing her kept reminding him of the one thing he feared most: losing himself.
"You should just disappear," he thought. "Just leave, before you destroy yourself even more."

He clenched his fists to push the thought away, but they were like an echo that wouldn’t fade. He felt like being around Enya would destroy him, even though he didn’t really want that. And the more he tried to distract himself, the deeper the exhaustion crept into his bones. But that was what he wanted, right? To throw himself into work and distractions, to drown out the pain.

Eventually, he sat up and stared at the floor. He knew he had to get up eventually. But the thought of facing the day and dealing with all these memories was so overwhelming that he felt like he might wither away in his bed.

Jayden knocked softly on Liam's door before gently pushing it open. The moment he stepped inside, he could see that Liam was awake, but his eyes were distant, lost in his own thoughts. The quiet tension between them made Jayden hesitate for a second, but he quickly shook it off.
"Hey," Jayden said, his voice gentle. "The realtor found a few places we can check out this afternoon. Thought you might want to come along."
Liam forced a smile, not quite reaching his eyes. "Sounds good, but I’m not sure if I’ll be able to make it," he said, his voice tired. "I’ve got my first therapy session today... trauma therapy, you know?"

Jayden nodded, understanding immediately. "That’s great, Liam. You should really focus on that. If you finish up and still feel like coming by, just text me, yeah?"
"Yeah, thanks," Liam replied, though his mind was already elsewhere.
As Jayden left the room, Liam let out a deep sigh and collapsed back onto his pillow. The room felt too quiet, the weight of his thoughts pressing down on him.

He stared up at the ceiling, his mind spiraling. Would the therapy even help? The doubt crept in like a shadow. They’ll probably just give me some meds, tell me to take them, and move on with their day. He had no faith in the process. It felt like a formality, just something to tick off the list—another reminder that he was broken, that nothing would ever truly fix him.

What’s the point anyway? He couldn't shake the feeling that no matter what he did, he’d always be trapped in this cycle of darkness. Maybe it was just who he was now. Maybe it was too late to change.

Liam’s thoughts swirled relentlessly as he lay in bed, staring at the ceiling with bloodshot eyes. He had barely slept in days. Every time he closed his eyes, the nightmares returned—the same fragmented images of Ryan’s face, the knife flashing in the dim light, and the unbearable pressure in his chest as his body gave out.

He tried to focus on practicalities, something tangible to anchor himself to the present. Jayden had mentioned house viewings, and Liam assumed that meant he was still part of the plan. But was he? He wondered if Jayden and Enya had talked about it without him. Maybe they wanted to leave him behind. Maybe they needed to. After all, Liam wasn’t exactly pleasant company these days.

Would they ask him to move out? Would they expect him to find his own place? The thought made his stomach churn. He didn’t want to be alone, but the idea of being around Enya all the time was almost unbearable now. Every time he saw her, his mind betrayed him, flashing back to that night. Not just to the attack, but to everything that followed—the flashbacks, the desperate sex, the gnawing shame.

The weight in his chest grew heavier until it felt like he couldn’t breathe. He forced himself to sit up, his body protesting with every movement. The dull ache in his ribs was a constant reminder of what he’d endured, a pain that had faded but never truly left.

Pushing himself to his feet, Liam shuffled to the bathroom. The mirror reflected a version of himself he barely recognized: sunken eyes, unshaven jaw, and an expression that screamed exhaustion. He avoided looking for too long and stepped into the shower instead.
The water was scalding, but he didn’t turn it down. He let it cascade over his head and shoulders, drenching him as he braced his hands against the wall. For a long time, he didn’t move, just stood there, letting the steam fill the small space.

His hand found the scar on his abdomen, fingers tracing the jagged line that stretched across his skin. He could almost feel the knife again, the sharp, searing pain as it pierced him. His other hand moved to the scar near his ribs, where the surgeons had worked to save his life.

It was Daniel who had filled in the blanks for him later, explaining what had happened after the attack. Liam had been unconscious by the time the paramedics arrived. He hadn’t known about the blood pooling around him, the frantic efforts to stabilize him, or the ambulance ride where his heart had stopped.

That was the part that haunted him most. His heart had stopped.
He had been dead.

The thought sent a shiver down his spine despite the heat of the water. He was alive now only because a team of strangers refused to give up on him. If they hadn’t… if they had been a few seconds slower…
His hands curled into fists, his knuckles pressing hard against the wet tiles. He tilted his head forward, letting the water stream over his face as his mind raced.

He shouldn’t have been there that night. None of it should have happened. But it had, and all because Jayden had brought Enya into their lives. It wasn’t her fault—he knew that logically—but the bitterness lingered. Every time he looked at her, he saw Ryan. Every time she smiled at him, he thought of the man who had nearly killed him.

His jaw clenched, the anger bubbling to the surface. Not at Enya, not even at Ryan—though the hate he felt for that man was a black hole that threatened to consume him. No, the anger was at himself. For being weak. For being unable to move on. For letting his past define his present.
He slammed his fist against the wall, the sound dull against the rush of the water. His breathing was ragged now, his chest heaving as he fought to keep himself together. But the cracks were there, widening with each passing day.

When the water finally ran cold, Liam shut it off and stood in the silence, droplets sliding down his skin. He stared at the drain, his thoughts swirling into a dark, endless vortex. He didn’t know how much longer he could keep this up—pretending to be okay, pretending to be strong.
And deep down, he wasn’t sure he wanted to.

Liam stepped out of the shower, water dripping from his hair as he grabbed a towel and began drying himself off. His movements were slow, methodical, as though moving too quickly might shatter the fragile balance he was trying to maintain.
He wrapped the towel around his waist and stared at his reflection in the fogged-up mirror. For a moment, he allowed himself to look, really look, at the man staring back at him. The dark circles under his eyes, the tension in his jaw, the faint tremor in his hands—it was all there, plain as day. He was a mess, and he knew it.

As he brushed his teeth, he tried to push the negative thoughts away, repeating affirmations in his mind. You’ve got this, mate. One step at a time. Just get through today. You’re stronger than this. You’ve faced worse.
The words felt hollow, but he clung to them anyway. It was all he had.

After spitting out the toothpaste and rinsing his mouth, Liam straightened up. He grabbed the clothes he had laid out—a simple t-shirt and jeans—and got dressed. Standing by the bathroom door, he took a deep breath and placed his hand on the handle.

Before he left, he paused. Closing his eyes, he imagined himself pulling on an invisible mask. One that would hide the storm raging inside him. One that would make him the Liam everyone expected to see. The upbeat jokester. The life of the party. The one who never let anything get to him.
He forced a smile, practiced it once in the mirror to make sure it looked convincing, and then stepped out into the hall.

By the time he reached the kitchen, he was the Liam everyone knew and loved. "Mornin', you lot," he greeted, his Cockney accent thick and cheerful as he sauntered in.
Jayden was pouring himself a cup of coffee, and Enya was seated at the table, a warm smile spreading across her face when she saw him. "There he is," she said affectionately. "Thought we’d lost you to that shower."

Liam chuckled, grabbing a plate and piling on some toast and eggs. "You know me, love. Gotta look me best for the therapist, eh? First impressions and all that."
Enya laughed softly, but her expression turned tender. "Jayden mentioned you’ve got your first session today," she said, her voice filled with genuine pride. "I just want you to know how proud I am of you, Liam. Taking this step... it’s brave. And it’s the right thing to do. You’ll see—it’ll help you leave all of this behind."
Liam glanced at her, his mask firmly in place. He nodded, offering her a small smile. "Thanks, Enya. Means a lot, that."

Inside, though, her words hit differently. He wanted to believe her, wanted to hold onto the hope that this would make everything better. But a part of him still wasn’t sure. What if it didn’t work? What if nothing could fix him?
He pushed those thoughts down, burying them deep where they couldn’t surface. For now, he just needed to play his part. He sat down at the table, cracking a joke about Jayden’s coffee-making skills, and let the moment pass as though everything was perfectly normal.

But beneath the surface, the cracks in his mask were already beginning to form.

Chapter Text

Michael stood in the corner of the room, shirtless, his toned back and shoulders glistening slightly in the afternoon light. He was focused on the task at hand—adjusting some wiring on his drum kit, his head nodding faintly to a rhythm only he could hear through the headphones clamped over his ears. His focus was so intense, he didn’t hear Lexy entering the room.

She stopped in the doorway, a mischievous grin spreading across her face as she watched him. The sight of him, completely engrossed and unaware, was irresistible. Quietly, she tiptoed closer, her steps as light as a cat’s.
When she was close enough, she leaned in and let her tongue glide over the warm skin of his neck.

Michael jumped, nearly dropping the wires in his hand as he yanked the headphones off and spun around. “Bloody hell, Lex!” he exclaimed, his eyes wide with shock.
Lexy burst out laughing, clutching her stomach as she bent over in amusement. “You should’ve seen your face!” she teased, her voice laced with unrepentant glee.
Michael glared at her, but his lips twitched, betraying the smile he was fighting. “You’re impossible,” he muttered, shaking his head.

Still chuckling, Lexy stepped closer and wrapped her arms around him from behind, pressing herself against his back. “Aww, don’t be mad,” she murmured, her lips brushing against his ear. “I couldn’t resist. You looked so serious.”
He sighed, the tension leaving his shoulders as her warmth seeped into him. “What do you want, Trouble?” he asked, using his nickname for her, though his tone was more affectionate than annoyed.

Lexy rested her chin on his shoulder, her fingers trailing lazily over the muscles of his chest. “What are you doing down here, anyway?” she asked, her curiosity genuine despite the playful edge in her voice.
Michael cleared his throat, trying to ignore the way her touch sent shivers down his spine. “Just tweaking the drum triggers. One of them’s been lagging, so I thought I’d—”
His words faltered as Lexy’s hands began to roam more freely, her fingers tracing the contours of his abs and teasing the waistband of his jeans.
“Thought you’d what?” she prompted, her voice dropping to a sultry whisper.

Michael swallowed hard, his mind struggling to stay on task. “Thought I’d, uh... fix it,” he managed, his voice a little rougher now.
Lexy smirked, her lips brushing against his shoulder blade. “Doesn’t look like you’re fixing much now,” she teased, her hands sliding up to his chest again.
Michael’s breath hitched, and he turned around to face her, catching her mischievous gaze. “You’re making it bloody hard to concentrate, you know that?” he said, his tone half-reproachful, half-amused.
“That’s the idea,” Lexy shot back with a wicked grin.

Michael let out a shaky breath as Lexy’s hand slipped just beneath the waistband of his jeans, her fingers teasing against his skin. His pulse quickened, and he fought to keep his focus, determined not to let her win this game so easily.
“Where’s Daniel?” he asked abruptly, his voice a little more strained than he’d have liked.
Lexy tilted her head, her lips brushing his collarbone as she chuckled softly. “Danny just left,” she murmured between kisses. “Said he’s going for a jog. He won’t be back for a while.” Her lips curved into a grin against his skin. “Which means... we’ve got the whole place to ourselves.”

Michael’s hands found her shoulders, not pushing her away but holding her just enough to pause her movements. “Lex,” he started, trying to inject some firmness into his tone. “We really shouldn’t—”
Her lips moved up to his neck, finding the sensitive spot just below his ear. He groaned softly despite himself, his head tipping back slightly.
“Shouldn’t what?” she whispered, her voice dripping with feigned innocence. “Enjoy ourselves? Relax a little?”
Michael opened his mouth to respond, but the words dissolved into a sharp inhale as she sank to her knees in front of him, her eyes locking onto his with a mischievous glint.
“Lex,” he said again, his tone a mix of warning and pleading.

She didn’t answer with words, instead letting her hands glide over his hips as she slowly tugged at his jeans. Her deliberate, confident movements made his protests falter, his resolve cracking under her touch.
“You’re impossible,” he muttered, his hand running through his hair as he tried to regain some control over the situation.
Lexy smirked, her hands steady as she looked up at him. “You already said that,” she shot back before leaning in to begin her work, her touch and attention making him forget whatever argument he was about to make.
Michael let his head fall back, his hands gripping the edge of the drum riser for support. “Trouble,” he murmured, his voice a low, breathy rasp.

Michael groaned softly, his body betraying his half-hearted attempts to maintain control. Lexy, thoroughly amused, didn’t let up, her touch sending waves of pleasure through him.
“For God’s sake,” he muttered through clenched teeth, his frustration evident.
Just as he was about to give in entirely, his phone vibrated loudly on the nearby desk, the sharp sound cutting through the charged atmosphere.
Michael froze, his head snapping toward the device. “You’ve got to be kidding me,” he hissed, reaching for the phone with a growl. Lexy paused briefly, biting her lip to stifle a laugh as she leaned back just enough to let him answer.
He glanced at the screen and sighed. Jayden. Of course.

“What?” Michael snapped into the phone, his voice sharper than he intended as he tried to keep his composure.
Jayden’s calm voice filtered through the speaker. “Uh... bad time?”
Michael exhaled sharply, his free hand gripping the edge of the desk for support. “No, no. Just... busy with something,” he said, his voice clipped, trying to steady himself.
“Well, listen. The manager called,” Jayden began, completely oblivious to Michael’s predicament. “We’ve been invited to the States for some meetings about the new album. They’re talking about flying us out next month.”

Lexy smirked devilishly and resumed her ministrations, her hands sliding along his thighs as she took him deep into her mouth. Michael’s breath hitched, and he clutched the phone tighter, willing himself not to react.
“Michael? You there?” Jayden’s tone was laced with concern.
“Y-yeah. Here,” Michael stammered, his voice cracking slightly.
Jayden hesitated. “You sound weird. Are you okay?”
“I’m fine!” Michael said quickly, his voice pitched higher than usual. “Just—uh, just stretching! Needed to stretch a bit.”

Lexy let out a muffled laugh, her shoulders shaking with delight as she pressed him further. Michael shot her a desperate glare, but she only doubled down, clearly enjoying his struggle to maintain composure.
“Right,” Jayden replied skeptically. “Well, anyway, I’ll send you the details. Let me know if you’re good to go.”
“Sure, yeah! Good to go. Totally fine,” Michael rushed out, his free hand gripping the desk so tightly his knuckles turned white.
Jayden hesitated again. “Okay. You’re acting really weird, man, but whatever. Later.”
“Yep, later!” Michael said in a rush, ending the call with a sharp press of the button before tossing the phone onto the desk.

The moment the call ended, Michael let out a low growl, his restraint snapping. He grabbed Lexy by the arms, pulling her up with a force that made her gasp in surprise. With a fluid motion, he hoisted her onto the edge of the desk, stepping between her legs.
“You,” he growled, his voice low and gravelly, “are going to be the death of me.”
Lexy grinned, triumphant and unrepentant. “Worth it,” she whispered before Michael claimed her lips in a searing kiss.

The kiss was all-consuming, passionate and desperate, as if he were pouring all his frustration and desire into her. His hands gripped her waist, pulling her closer until there was no space left between them. Lexy wrapped her arms around his neck, melting into him, her earlier mischief now replaced by something deeper.

Lexy smirked, her eyes glinting with mischievous delight as she leaned back on the desk, propping herself up on her elbows. “Was I a bad girl just now?” she asked, her tone dripping with feigned innocence, though the sparkle in her eyes betrayed her true intentions.
Michael narrowed his eyes, his lips curling into a sly, almost dangerous grin. “Oh, you were more than bad,” he murmured, his voice low and rough. He leaned closer, his breath ghosting over her ear. “You were wicked.”

Lexy feigned a gasp, biting her lip as she looked up at him, her voice a teasing whisper. “What are you going to do about it, then?”
Michael didn’t reply, at least not with words. Instead, his hands moved with deliberate precision, gripping the waistband of her pants. In one swift motion, he tugged them down, along with her underwear, leaving her bare beneath him. The suddenness of the act left Lexy breathless, her playful smirk faltering for just a moment before it returned, softer and more inviting.

“You’re not getting away with this,” he growled, his hands firm on her thighs as he spread them apart. His gaze locked with hers, a silent command to stay still.
Lexy’s heart raced, anticipation and excitement coursing through her as she swallowed hard. “You wouldn’t dare,” she challenged, though her tone betrayed the fact that she wanted him to.
Michael chuckled darkly. “Oh, I dare.”
Without another word, he lowered himself, his lips trailing down her inner thigh. His touch was rough yet deliberate, his fingers gripping her hips to keep her in place. When his mouth finally found her, Lexy gasped, her hands gripping the edge of the desk for support.

His movements were precise, calculated to drive her wild, yet he kept her teetering on the edge. Just as her breathing grew ragged and her soft moans filled the room, Michael pulled away, leaving her trembling with unfulfilled need.
Lexy let out a frustrated groan, glaring down at him. “You’ve got to be kidding me!” she exclaimed, half-laughing, half-exasperated.

But her frustration was all an act. Beneath the playful glare and mock indignation, this was exactly what she wanted. The denial, the control—giving herself over to Michael in this way allowed her to feel safe, to rewrite the narrative of her past on her terms. She didn’t need release. What she craved was the tease, the tension, the trust in knowing that he would never push her further than she was ready to go.

Michael rose to his full height, towering over her, his grin smug and unapologetic. “Bad girls don’t get everything they want,” he said, his voice husky.
Lexy reached for him, her hands tugging him closer by the waistband of his pants. “You’re cruel, you know that?” she murmured, her tone equal parts amused and desperate.
“Maybe,” Michael replied, his lips brushing against hers in a feather-light kiss. “But I think you like it.”
Her response was a soft, breathless laugh. “Maybe I do.”

Michael smirked as he reached for the drawer of the desk, pulling out a small box of condoms. His movements were deliberate, almost languid, as if he had all the time in the world. Lexy watched, her eyes flicking between his hands and the evidence of his arousal. He tore one packet open and rolled it on, the anticipation thickening the air between them.

Turning his attention back to her, he stepped closer, letting her see every inch of his now fully erect length. “Is this what you want?” he asked, his voice low and teasing, as he stroked himself just enough to make her squirm.
Lexy’s breath hitched, and she nodded eagerly, her impatience clear in the way her hips shifted on the desk.
Michael cocked an eyebrow, his smirk widening. “Words, Lex. I need to hear you say it. You know the rules.”

Her lips parted, and a flush crept up her neck, but she didn’t hesitate. “Yes. I want you, Mikey.”
“Good girl,” he murmured, leaning in to press a kiss against her thigh, his stubble grazing her sensitive skin.
Just when she thought he’d give her what she wanted, Michael straightened up and took a step back. Without breaking eye contact, he wrapped a hand around himself and began stroking slowly, deliberately, as if lost in the sensation.
Lexy’s jaw dropped in disbelief. “Are you serious right now?”

He grinned at her reaction, the mischievous glint in his eyes unmistakable. “Patience, Trouble,” he said, his tone dripping with amusement. “Or is that asking too much for a bad girl like you?”
Lexy groaned, her hands clenching the edge of the desk. The playful frustration was evident in her voice. “Michael, I swear, if you don’t—”
Her words were cut off by a sharp inhale as he leaned in again, his movements slow and controlled. But still, he didn’t give her what she was begging for, savoring the way she squirmed under his teasing.

Michael slowed his movements, his hand still wrapped around himself, and raised an eyebrow at her. “Try again, Lex,” he said, his voice low and commanding. “What do you want? Say it.”
Lexy let out an impatient groan, her fingers digging into the edge of the desk as she squirmed under his gaze. “I want you,” she said through gritted teeth, her voice already trembling with need.
“Louder,” he said, stepping closer, his free hand running along her thigh. His touch was light, teasing, infuriating. “I want to hear it, Trouble. Don’t make me ask again.”

Her cheeks flushed with heat, but she refused to shy away, meeting his gaze head-on. “I said, I want you,” she repeated, her tone sharper this time.
Michael shook his head, clicking his tongue in mock disapproval. “Not good enough,” he said, leaning down until his face was inches from hers. “Be specific, Lex. Tell me exactly what you want.”
Her patience snapped. She let out a low growl, her voice dripping with frustration and desire. “I want you to take me right here on this fucking desk,” she snarled, her words raw and shameless. “I want you to fuck me hard, Mikey. Now.”
Michael’s smirk widened, a dark glint in his eyes. “That’s more like it,” he murmured, his tone laced with approval. Without another word, he grabbed her hips and pulled her to the edge of the desk, lining himself up with her.
The teasing was over.

With one smooth, powerful thrust, he filled her completely, forcing a gasp from her lips as her back arched against the desk. Michael gripped her thighs firmly, anchoring her in place as he set a relentless pace, each movement precise and forceful.
Lexy clung to him, her nails digging into his shoulders as she met his rhythm. Every sharp snap of his hips sent shockwaves through her, pulling moans and curses from her lips. “Fuck, yes—just like that,” she panted, her voice ragged but dripping with satisfaction.

Michael leaned down, his breath hot against her ear. “You really are a bad girl, Trouble,” he growled, his tone laced with a mix of amusement and desire.
“And you fucking love it,” Lexy shot back, her voice strained but laced with defiance.
The room filled with the sound of their bodies moving together, her breathless moans mingling with his low grunts. Every thrust, every movement, was laced with passion and an unspoken understanding that this wasn’t just physical—it was their way of connecting, of claiming each other in a world that often felt out of their control.

Lexy’s lips curved into a knowing smile as she wrapped her legs tighter around Michael’s waist, subtly shifting her hips to meet his movements. She knew exactly what she was doing—this was her game, their game. Every calculated squeeze of her body was deliberate, her control over him absolute.

Michael’s pace faltered for a moment, a low groan escaping his throat as he pressed his forehead against hers. “Lex...” he growled, his voice thick with warning and desperation.
But she didn’t let up. If anything, she intensified her efforts, her inner muscles clenching around him in a rhythm she knew would push him over the edge. Her eyes locked with his, a glint of mischief shining through her heated gaze.
“Trouble,” he gasped, his hands gripping her hips so tightly she was sure she’d feel the marks later.
“Shh,” she whispered, her tone equal parts teasing and sultry. “Just let go, Mikey.”

And he did. With a strained groan, his body tensed, and she felt the telltale shudder as he surrendered completely to her. His release hit him hard, his grip on her unyielding as he rode out the waves of pleasure she’d so expertly orchestrated.
Michael collapsed against her, his breaths ragged and uneven, his forehead resting on her shoulder. “You’re gonna be the death of me, you know that?” he muttered, his voice muffled against her skin.
Lexy let out a soft, breathless laugh, running her fingers through his damp hair. “Maybe,” she replied playfully, her tone light despite the racing of her own heart. “But what a way to go, huh?”

Michael pulled back just enough to look at her, his expression a mix of amusement and frustration. “You’re impossible,” he said, shaking his head, though the small smile tugging at his lips betrayed his words.
“And you love it,” Lexy quipped, leaning in to press a quick kiss to his lips before slipping out of his hold. She reached for her discarded clothes, her movements casual and unbothered as if this were the most natural thing in the world.

Michael watched her for a moment, his mind still foggy with post-release bliss. He couldn’t deny it—she was impossible. And yes, he did love it.

Michael disposed of the used condom, his mind lingering on thoughts that had been haunting him for a while now. Was this all they would ever have? A situationship where Lexy gave everything to him but kept herself walled off? He sighed, pulling a shirt over his head and deciding he couldn't keep avoiding the conversation. If there was a chance to break through her defenses, he had to take it.

He headed upstairs and found her in the kitchen, boiling water for tea. Lexy hummed softly to herself, seemingly carefree. Michael leaned against the doorway for a moment, watching her. Gathering his courage, he walked up behind her, slipping his arms around her waist and pulling her into a gentle embrace. She tensed for only a second before relaxing against him. He kissed the side of her neck tenderly.

“Already ready for round two?” she teased, a playful lilt in her voice.
Michael chuckled. “Not quite. I just wanted this—” he tightened his hold slightly, “—a little bit of closeness.”
They stood like that for a while, the kettle bubbling softly in the background. The silence stretched, but Michael couldn’t let it last. After a deep breath, he asked, his voice quiet but steady, “Lex… do you think you’ll keep this up forever?”
Lexy stilled immediately. “Keep what up?” she asked, though they both knew what he meant.
“This… refusing to let yourself feel pleasure. To let yourself go.” His voice softened further. “Is that really what you want for the rest of your life?”

She pulled away slightly, and Michael instantly regretted his choice of words. He could feel her body tense in his arms, her earlier lightness evaporating. She didn’t turn to face him, instead gripping the counter as if it were her anchor.
“Michael,” she said after a long pause, her tone hardening. “You know why I do it.”
“I know, Lex. I do. But…” He hesitated, choosing his words carefully. “It kills me to see you like this. To know that you won’t let yourself heal, not really. You think this is control, but all I see is you punishing yourself. And I—” his voice cracked slightly. “I can’t stand watching you hurt yourself like this.”

Lexy turned then, her fiery hair a sharp contrast to the vulnerability in her eyes. She crossed her arms defensively, the usual bravado gone. “I don’t need a lecture, Michael. Not from you.”
“I’m not lecturing,” he insisted gently. “I just… I care about you. A lot more than I think you realize. And I want more for you than this. You deserve more.”
Lexy’s lips parted as if to argue, but the words didn’t come. Instead, she looked down, her posture wavering.
“Do you really think it’s that simple?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

Michael reached out, his hand lightly brushing her arm. “No,” he admitted. “I know it’s not. But I also know you’re the strongest person I’ve ever met. And if anyone can face this, it’s you. You don’t have to do it alone, either. I’m here, Lex. For all of it.”
Her gaze flickered to his, and for a fleeting moment, the wall she had built cracked. But just as quickly, it was back, her signature smirk returning to her lips like a shield. “You really know how to kill the mood, don’t you, Mikey?”
Michael let out a soft laugh, though his heart ached. “Maybe. But it’s worth it.”

She rolled her eyes, stepping past him with her tea in hand. “Come on. Let’s not ruin a perfectly good day with heavy shit.”
Michael followed her, his expression thoughtful. He wouldn’t push her further—not now. But he wouldn’t give up, either.

Chapter Text

Liam sat in a cozy room that felt more like a modern living room than a therapy office. Across from him, in an armchair, was a lanky man in his early thirties with messy brown hair and a warm smile. A nameplate on the desk read: Dr. Julian Carter.
“So, Liam,” Dr. Carter began, flipping open a notebook. “What brings you here today?”

Liam snorted, leaning back in his chair with his arms crossed. “What d’ya think? They tell me I’ve gotta be here, so here I am. But honestly, Doc, what’s this gonna do, eh? Talking ‘bout feelings? Isn’t that a bit... overrated?” A smirk spread across his face.
Dr. Carter’s smile didn’t waver. “I take it you’re not here entirely of your own free will, correct?”

“Sharp observation, Dr. Phil.” Liam quipped, laying on his Cockney accent thick, as if to test the therapist’s patience. “But seriously, you look like you just graduated or somethin’. Shouldn’t I have some old geezer with thick glasses, saying: ‘And how does that make you feel?’” He pitched his voice into a nasally falsetto, mimicking the stereotypical therapist.
Dr. Carter chuckled softly. “The cliché, yeah. Sorry to disappoint.” He leaned forward slightly, his gaze calm yet strikingly perceptive. “But I promise you, I might have a thing or two up my sleeve that could help. If you’d like, I can show you my grades.”

“Oh, I’m impressed, Einstein,” Liam retorted, though his posture softened ever so slightly.
“Good,” Dr. Carter replied smoothly, not taking the bait. “How about we use this time wisely? You say therapy doesn’t work. What makes you think that?”
Liam shrugged. “Dunno, just the usual. Talkin’s talkin’, doesn’t change anything. I’ve heard enough from people sittin’ with some bloke for an hour, and nothing’s different after.”
Dr. Carter nodded. “I hear that a lot. But you know what? Therapy isn’t just talking. It’s about recognizing patterns, understanding things we can’t see ourselves, and then actively changing them. If someone truly wants to.”
“And if someone doesn’t?” Liam raised an eyebrow.
“Then it doesn’t work. But you’re here, which means maybe, deep down, a part of you thought it might.”

Liam grew quiet. His eyes flitted to the clock and back to the therapist. “Alright, Doc. So, what now? Gonna pick apart my psyche?” His tone remained sarcastic, but the edge had dulled.
Dr. Carter smiled again. “Not at all. I just want to get to know you—your story, your goals. You don’t have to do anything you’re not ready for here. But if you help me understand you, I promise we can find a way forward together.”

The words hit Liam unexpectedly. For a moment, he didn’t know how to respond. As Dr. Carter continued, his voice was remarkably gentle: “I can see you’ve built a strong façade, Liam. But here—in this room—you don’t have to prove anything. Not to anyone. Not even to yourself.”
Liam felt a lump forming in his throat. The way Dr. Carter looked at him, like he could see right through his bravado, made him uncomfortable. “Easy for you to say, Doc,” he muttered, turning his gaze toward the window.
“Fair point,” Dr. Carter conceded with a nod. “But I’m here to help. Not to judge.” He leaned back in his chair and smiled encouragingly. “How about we start with something simple? Tell me about yourself. What did you hope to get out of this therapy? Or what do you absolutely not want?”

Liam took a deep breath. The Cockney charm vanished from his voice, replaced by a softer, more vulnerable tone. “I... I dunno. I guess I just want to know how to move on. After all the shit.”
Dr. Carter nodded slowly. “That’s a good start, Liam. A very good start.”

Dr. Carter jotted down a few notes, his pen moving in steady, deliberate strokes. He didn’t rush to speak, letting the silence settle over the room. Liam fidgeted in his seat, tapping his foot against the floor. The stillness was unnerving, like it was waiting for him to crack.
“So,” Liam finally said, breaking the quiet, “what’s the plan then? You gonna wave a magic wand? Hypnotize me, maybe?” His tone was sardonic, though there was a flicker of genuine curiosity beneath it.

Dr. Carter smiled faintly, unphased. “I don’t carry a wand, unfortunately. Therapy isn’t about fixing you; it’s about helping you understand yourself and figuring out what you want to change. Together, we’ll figure out a way to get there.”
“Sounds like a load of bollocks,” Liam muttered, crossing his arms. “No offense, mate.”
“None taken,” Carter replied, his tone light. “It’s okay to be skeptical. But how about we start small? What’s one thing—just one—that you’d like to feel different about after a few sessions?”
Liam exhaled sharply, leaning back in his chair. “Bloody hell, I don’t know. Maybe not feelin’ like I’m draggin’ myself through mud every day? That’d be somethin’, wouldn’t it?”

Dr. Carter nodded thoughtfully. “That’s a good start. Feeling stuck, like you’re dragging through mud—that’s exhausting. And there’s usually a reason behind it. My job is to help you find that reason and decide how to move forward.”
“Yeah, well, maybe I’m just lazy,” Liam said with a shrug, though his voice lacked conviction.
“I don’t buy that,” Carter said, his expression calm but unwavering. “Laziness isn’t what brought you here today. It’s not what’s kept you going through everything you’ve been through. You’re still here, Liam. That says a lot.”

Liam froze, his eyes narrowing slightly as if trying to gauge whether the therapist was being sincere. He wasn’t used to hearing anyone talk about him that way, and he didn’t know what to make of it.
“You’re a bit of a smartass, aren’t you?” Liam said, his voice softer now.
Carter chuckled, the corners of his mouth lifting. “Occupational hazard. But it seems like you can hold your own.”

A ghost of a grin tugged at Liam’s lips, though it didn’t last. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “Look... I ain’t good at this kinda thing. Talkin’, you know? Feelin’s and all that rubbish.”
“That’s okay,” Carter reassured him. “You don’t have to be. Therapy isn’t about saying the right things or impressing anyone. It’s about showing up and being honest, even if that means admitting you don’t know where to start.”
Liam ran a hand over his face, his shoulders sagging. “Honest, huh? Guess I’ve been avoidin’ that for a while.”

Carter tilted his head slightly, studying Liam’s expression. “Avoidance can feel safer—it’s a way of protecting yourself. But it also keeps you stuck in the same place. Facing things is hard, but it’s the only way to move forward. And the good news is, you don’t have to do it alone.”
Liam stared at the floor, the weight of the words pressing down on him. He hated how easily this bloke seemed to see through him. “You make it sound so bloody easy.”
“It’s not,” Carter admitted. “It’s tough. But it’s worth it. And like I said, we’ll take it one step at a time. No rush.”

For a moment, Liam didn’t say anything. Then, almost hesitantly, he asked, “So... what, you reckon you can fix me or somethin’?”
Dr. Carter’s gaze softened, and he shook his head. “I don’t think you’re broken, Liam. You’ve been through a lot, and it’s shaped how you see the world—and yourself. But we can work on making things better. Together.”
Liam looked up at him, his guarded expression faltering. “You really believe that, don’t you?”
“I do,” Carter said simply.

Liam stood, shoving his hands in his pockets. He hesitated at the door, glancing back. “Alright. We’ll see, yeah? No promises, though.”
“No promises needed,” Carter replied with a small smile. “Just keep showing up.”

As Liam reached the door, Dr. Carter’s voice stopped him. “Liam.”
He turned slightly, one hand still on the doorknob. “What now?”

Carter leaned back in his chair, his expression calm but laced with a sharp, perceptive edge. “I just want you to know—I see it. The exhaustion in your eyes, the weight you’re carrying. You’re running on empty, barely sleeping, and I can feel the guilt, the anger, and the shame in the way you hold yourself. It’s like you’re trying to disappear, even while you’re standing right in front of me.”
Liam’s grip on the doorknob tightened. His jaw tensed, and for a moment, he didn’t reply. The words hit too close, too hard.

“You think you know me?” he asked, his tone rough, though his voice wavered ever so slightly.
“I don’t know you,” Carter said evenly. “Not yet. But I’ve seen enough to know you’ve been carrying this alone for too long. And whatever you think about therapy, Liam—it’s not about judgment. It’s about giving yourself a chance to put that weight down, even if just for a little while.”

Liam looked away, his lips pressed into a thin line. He didn’t respond, didn’t even turn back, but after a long pause, he muttered, “See you next week, doc,” and walked out.
Carter watched him go, his expression softening. He didn’t miss the tension in Liam’s shoulders, the way his steps faltered just slightly as he left. It wasn’t much, but it was something.
And sometimes, Carter thought, something was all you needed to start.

Chapter Text

Enya and Jayden climbed into the car, the door closing with a satisfying click. Before Jayden could even start the engine, Enya let out a disappointed sigh.
"That wasn’t it, was it?" she asked, her voice carrying a hint of apology as she brushed her hair back.
"Definitely not," Jayden agreed, releasing the handbrake. "Two bedrooms, a tiny kitchen, and the garden? If you can even call it that. For that price, we might as well buy a circus wagon."

Enya laughed softly and buckled her seatbelt while Jayden pulled out his phone, scrolling through the next listings.
"Alright, this one sounds more promising," he said, pausing to skim the details. "Spacious single-family home, four bedrooms, two bathrooms. Good location, and get this: a medium-sized garden with a pool."
Enya perked up, her enthusiasm clear. "A pool? That sounds amazing. Now tell me the kitchen is big enough for more than just a toaster."
"Doesn’t say," Jayden replied with a smirk, "but we can always focus on the pool. Worst-case scenario, we cook outside."

Before he could start the car, his phone buzzed in the console. He glanced at the screen and answered the call.
"Liam? What’s up?"
On the other end, Liam’s familiar Cockney accent came through. "Aye, mate. Just finished my session. Thought I’d check where you’re at. Heard you’re house hunting. Figured I’d tag along before you end up buying somethin’ ridiculous. You know, moral support."
Jayden chuckled. "Moral support, huh? Alright, shoot me your location."
Liam rattled off the address of his therapist’s office, and Jayden nodded. "Got it. We’ll swing by and pick you up."

As he hung up, Enya turned to him, curiosity in her expression. "Session? Does he mean... therapy?"
Jayden nodded, a slight furrow in his brow. "Yeah. I don’t know, I’ve just had this feeling the past few days that he’s not doing great. He seems... different. Quieter, like he’s holding himself together. Maybe it’s just me."
Enya tilted her head, her eyes searching Jayden’s face. "Honestly, I haven’t noticed anything. He’s been the same Liam to me—funny, charming, a little cheeky. The usual."
"Maybe," Jayden said slowly, "but ever since that night we shared, he’s been pulling back. It’s subtle, but I know him well enough to feel it."

Enya considered this for a moment before nodding. "I’ll keep an eye on him. But, Jayden... therapy really can help. Maybe he just needs time to get used to the idea of sticking with it."
Jayden gave her a faint smile. "Let’s hope so."

When they arrived at the therapist’s office, Liam was already waiting outside, hands stuffed into the pockets of his leather jacket. His face lit up when he saw them, and he opened the back door with a wide grin.
"Oi, my favorite house hunters! Found the perfect castle yet, or do I need to save you?"
Enya laughed, and Jayden shook his head as Liam flopped onto the back seat. "You can lend us your expertise later. For now, just sit back and enjoy the ride."
"Enjoy the ride, yeah?" Liam said, feigning seriousness. "Does that mean I’m not even allowed to complain?"
All three of them burst into laughter as they drove off toward the next house.

As the car pulled into the driveway, Enya's excitement was almost tangible. She leaned forward, practically pressing her nose against the glass. "Oh my God," she breathed, her voice tinged with awe. "It’s beautiful."
The house stood tall and proud, a modern architectural dream of clean lines and expansive windows. The perfectly manicured lawn, with its neat hedges and a sleek stone pathway leading to the door, looked like it belonged in a design magazine.

Jayden parked the car and shut off the engine, throwing a glance at Enya. "Looks like this one’s already winning you over, huh?" he teased, stepping out.
Enya was out of the car in a flash, spinning around to take in every angle of the property. "This is exactly what I imagined. Jay, this could be it!"
Jayden chuckled, shoving his hands into his pockets as he watched her practically bounce with enthusiasm. "Well, let’s not declare it 'the one' until we’ve seen the inside."

Liam, on the other hand, stayed rooted by the car, his arms folded tightly across his chest. His eyes flicked over the house, but his expression was hard to read. He trailed behind the others as they approached the front door, his mood still heavy from earlier. This isn’t for me, he reminded himself. This is their future, their dream. I’m just tagging along.

They were greeted by the current owner, a man in a tailored navy suit with a wide, polished smile. "Welcome," he said warmly, ushering them inside.
The interior didn’t disappoint. High ceilings, an open floor plan, and large windows flooded the space with natural light. The kitchen gleamed with marble countertops and top-of-the-line appliances.
Enya gasped as they entered. "This kitchen is everything!" she exclaimed, running her fingers reverently across the countertop. "Do you know how many times I’ve accidentally knocked things onto the floor because I didn’t have enough counter space? I could actually cook here!"
Jayden leaned against the doorway, watching her with an affectionate smile. "I think we’ve found your favorite room," he joked.

But Liam was only half-listening. He hovered near the entrance, his gaze darting around the room. It was stunning, sure, but he couldn’t shake the nagging feeling that he didn’t belong here.

The owner led them upstairs, pointing out the spacious bedrooms and luxurious en suite bathrooms. Enya’s excitement only grew with every new room they saw. "This is perfect," she gushed as they stepped into one of the guest rooms. "There’s so much space for guests! Michael and Daniel could have their own rooms when they visit. Maybe even Lexy if she—"
She stopped abruptly as Jayden came up behind her. His arms snaked around her waist, and he rested his chin on her shoulder. A mischievous glint danced in his eyes.
"You know," he murmured, his voice low and teasing, "some of these rooms could also be... kids’ rooms."
For a moment, the air seemed to freeze.

"Kids?" Enya blurted, turning her head to gape at him.
Even Liam snapped out of his brooding, his eyebrows shooting up. He stared at Jayden like he’d just grown a second head.
Jayden straightened, suddenly looking sheepish. "Well... you know. Someday. Maybe."
"Nope," Enya said, shaking her head so decisively her ponytail swished. "No, thank you. I’ve got my hands full with Gremlin. That’s enough chaos for me."
Jayden rubbed the back of his neck, avoiding her gaze. "Right. Of course. Just a thought," he muttered.

Liam couldn’t hold back a grin, though he quickly bit his lip to stifle a laugh. Watching Jayden squirm under Enya’s firm rejection was oddly satisfying.
"Shall we, uh, check out the garden?" Jayden asked, clearing his throat and gesturing toward the door.
The owner nodded enthusiastically, already leading the way downstairs. Enya followed, still shaking her head and muttering under her breath about "kids."
Liam lingered for a moment, his gaze flicking between the two of them. He caught the faint flush on Jayden’s cheeks and the determined set of Enya’s jaw. They’re a weird pair, he thought with a small smile, but it works somehow.

Trailing behind the group, he stuffed his hands into his pockets and let out a quiet sigh. For the first time that day, his tension eased slightly. Maybe this isn’t so bad after all.

The garden, though winter had stripped it of its usual vibrancy, still had an undeniable charm. The grass was a soft, muted green, with patches of frost glinting faintly in the weak January sunlight. Bare branches reached up toward the pale sky, and the hedges, though dormant, were neatly trimmed and symmetrical, framing the space elegantly. The pool at the far end was covered with a sturdy winter tarp, but its sleek edges and the surrounding patio hinted at the luxury it would offer in warmer months.

Enya was practically vibrating with excitement as she wandered through the space. "Oh, Jay! Gremlin would love this! He could run around like crazy here." She spun in a circle, gesturing grandly. "And pool parties! We could actually have proper pool parties. I can already see it—Michael in flamingo floaties, Lexy trying to push Liam in..."
Jayden laughed softly, his hands in his pockets as he watched her. "I’m not sure Liam would appreciate that last part."

Liam, standing a few feet away, smirked but remained silent. He was still battling the nagging feeling of being out of place, though watching Enya’s enthusiasm made it a little harder to stay detached.
As Enya wandered deeper into the garden, the owner turned to Jayden with an approving nod. "Your wife seems very taken with the house," he said warmly.
Jayden’s brows shot up slightly at the word wife, but he decided not to correct him. Explaining their relationship wasn’t necessary—and besides, Enya’s excitement was all that mattered right now. "She is," Jayden replied with a polite smile.

A few moments later, Enya returned, practically bouncing on her toes. She grabbed Jayden’s hand, her eyes sparkling. "This is it, Jay. This is the house. It’s perfect."
Jayden gave her hand a gentle squeeze and turned to the owner. "When could we move in?"
The man beamed. "It’s ready immediately, as soon as the paperwork is finalized. I’d say within a month, you could be settled in."
Jayden nodded, extending a hand to seal the deal, but Liam stepped forward, his tone unusually sharp. "Wait a sec."

Both Jayden and Enya turned to him, confused. The owner, sensing the need for privacy, excused himself with a polite nod and disappeared back toward the house.
Liam crossed his arms and gave Jayden a pointed look. "How much is all this going to cost?"
Enya tilted her head, curious now. "He’s got a point. We should probably talk about how we’re splitting this."
Jayden sighed, already knowing where this was going. "You don’t need to worry about that," he said firmly. "I’ll cover it."
"Jay," Liam pressed, his voice firm. "How much?"

Jayden hesitated but finally relented under their expectant stares. "It’s just under four million."
The sharp intake of breath from both Liam and Enya was immediate. Enya’s eyes widened, and Liam let out a low whistle. "Four million?" Liam echoed, clearly alarmed. "Jay, that’s... that’s a ridiculous amount of money."
"Well, it is Dulwich," Jayden replied casually, though the corner of his mouth twitched in amusement.
"Jay..." Enya started, a mix of awe and concern in her voice. "That’s so much. Are you sure? I mean, we could—"
"You don’t need to." Jayden cut her off gently but firmly. He turned to her, his expression softening. "I want to do this for you. For us. This house is a fresh start, away from everything that’s weighed you down. And I can afford it. The new RCA deal has been more than generous, and I’ve been smart with my investments. This is not going to bankrupt me, I promise."

Liam frowned, his unease still evident. "But... four million? Jay, I don’t even come close to making enough to help with something like this. I’m just a touring member. I don’t see royalties or any of that."
Jayden reached out, resting a hand on Liam’s shoulder. "And you’re not expected to. Liam, this isn’t about who’s contributing what. This is about giving Enya a home where she feels safe and happy. I’m not asking you to take on any of this."
Liam still looked unconvinced, but he stayed quiet.

Turning back to Enya, Jayden took both her hands in his. "I love you," he said softly. "And I want to give you this. Please, just let me do this for you."
Enya’s heart swelled as she looked at him, her reservations melting under the sincerity in his eyes. She nodded, her voice a little shaky. "Okay. But only because you’re so annoyingly sweet."

Jayden laughed, pulling her into a hug. Over her shoulder, he caught Liam’s eye and gave him a reassuring smile. Liam, though still conflicted, managed a small nod.
The owner reappeared then, sensing that the discussion had wrapped up. Jayden stepped forward to finalize things, shaking the man’s hand.

As the deal was sealed, Enya looked back at the garden with a growing sense of excitement. This house really was the beginning of a new chapter—one she couldn’t wait to write with Jayden by her side.

Chapter Text

The late afternoon sunlight filtered lazily through the blinds as Lexy leaned against the edge of the kitchen counter, her smirk firmly in place. Across from her, Michael feigned a look of annoyance, though the gleam in his eyes betrayed the playful undertone in his voice.
“Oh, come on, Pixie,” he teased, deliberately using the nickname Liam reserved for her, knowing it would get under her skin. “You can do better than that.”

Lexy narrowed her eyes, stepping closer to him. “Better than that? You’re one to talk, Shorty,” she shot back, her tone dripping with mockery. “Or do you prefer Drummer Boy these days?”
Michael’s lips twitched, the challenge in her voice igniting something primal. He took a step forward, closing the space between them, his voice lowering to a murmur. “Careful, Lex. You keep talking like that, and I might have to remind you why I’m not just ‘Drummer Boy.’”

Her heart quickened, but Lexy held her ground, tilting her chin up defiantly. “Oh, please. Like you could even handle—”
Before she could finish, Michael’s restraint snapped. His hands found her waist, pulling her against him as his lips captured hers in a fierce, almost punishing kiss. Lexy gasped softly, her protests melting into him as his fingers slid under the hem of her shirt, brushing the bare skin of her lower back.
Just as her hands tangled in his hair, a sudden noise shattered the charged moment.

“Hey, do you two—whoa!”
Daniel’s voice cut through the air like a cold slap of reality. He stood frozen in the doorway, his eyes darting between them, his expression a mixture of confusion and suspicion.
Lexy and Michael sprang apart like guilty teenagers caught in the act. Lexy coughed awkwardly, quickly grabbing a nearby dish towel to busy her hands, while Michael ran a hand through his hair, attempting to look nonchalant.
“Uh, we were just…” Michael began, his voice trailing off as he struggled to come up with a plausible explanation.
“…arguing about who’s doing the dishes tonight,” Lexy finished smoothly, though the pink in her cheeks betrayed her embarrassment.

Daniel raised a skeptical brow but chose not to press the issue. “Right. Anyway, I was going to ask if you wanted to—”
Michael cut him off, clapping his hands together in mock enthusiasm. “Actually, I was just about to head out. Jayden and I are working on some new stuff at the studio tonight, so I’ll be gone till late.”
As he moved to leave, Michael cast a fleeting glance over his shoulder at Lexy. It was quick, but the heat in his eyes was unmistakable—a silent promise of unfinished business.

Daniel, oblivious to the exchange, merely shrugged. “Cool. Guess it’s just us, then.”
Michael’s footsteps echoed down the hall as he left, leaving Lexy to awkwardly face Daniel’s lingering curiosity.
“Dishes, huh?” he asked, crossing his arms.
Lexy groaned inwardly, throwing the towel onto the counter. “Don’t start.”

Daniel narrowed his eyes playfully, not buying Lexy’s brush-off. “Dishes, my ass. You’re hiding something, Lex.”
Before she could protest, he lunged forward, grabbing her by the waist and tickling her mercilessly.
“D-Daniel! Stop it!” Lexy shrieked between gasps of laughter, twisting in his grip as she tried to push him away.
“Not until you spill,” he declared with mock authority, his fingers relentless as she squirmed.

She managed to slip from his grasp and darted around the kitchen island, panting and glaring at him. “You’re such a child!”
“And you’re a terrible liar,” he shot back, lunging toward her again. Lexy squealed and bolted, darting into the living room. She didn’t get far before Daniel caught up, grabbing her by the arm and pulling her down onto the couch. They landed in a heap, Lexy pinned beneath him, both of them breathless and laughing.
“Fine! Fine, you win!” she huffed, throwing her hands up in mock surrender.
Daniel grinned triumphantly but didn’t move. “So? Spill.”

Lexy groaned, covering her face with her hands. “It’s nothing. Seriously.”
“Uh-huh,” he said, unconvinced, his weight still firmly holding her in place. “Doesn’t look like nothing to me. Looked pretty intense back there. And considering the way Michael talks about you…”
At that, Lexy froze, her hands lowering slightly to reveal wide eyes. “What do you mean? What has he said?”
Daniel smirked knowingly. “Oh, you know. Just that you drive him crazy. That you’re trouble—his words, not mine—and that he can’t get you out of his head.”
Lexy groaned louder this time, thumping her head back against the couch cushions. “That’s just Michael being Michael. It doesn’t mean anything.”

Daniel arched a brow. “Doesn’t mean anything? Lex, this guy is head over heels for you.”
She scoffed, finally shoving him off her. “It’s just sex, Danny. That’s all it’s ever been. And that’s all it’s ever going to be.”
He sat up, studying her carefully. “You sure about that? Because if it were just sex, you wouldn’t be keeping it a secret.”
“Of course I would!” she snapped, sitting up and crossing her arms defensively. “You know what Liam’s like. If he found out, he’d freak. He’d turn this into a whole thing, and I can’t deal with that right now.”
Daniel’s expression softened. “Fair enough. But you know I’m right here if you ever want to talk about it. No judgment.”
Lexy relaxed slightly, offering him a small, grateful smile. “Thanks, Danny. And… you’re not going to say anything, right?”
He raised his hands in surrender. “My lips are sealed.”

Just as the tension began to ease, Lexy’s phone buzzed on the coffee table. She leaned forward to grab it, glancing at the screen. It was Enya.
“Hey, give me a sec,” she said, answering the call. “Enya! What’s up?”
Daniel leaned back on the couch, giving her some space as she began chatting with her friend. From the smile spreading across her face, it was clear that Enya had good news—or at least something exciting to share.

“Hey, Lex. I was wondering if you’re free tonight,” came Enya’s cheerful voice on the other end.
Lexy smirked, glancing sideways at Daniel, who was now scrolling idly on his phone. “Not particularly. Why? Got something in mind?”
“Well, Liam and I were thinking of doing a gaming night. Thought it’d be fun to switch things up a bit. And since Michael and Jayden are tied up in the studio, I figured we could crash at yours.”
Lexy’s smirk turned into a grin. “A gaming night, huh? Here at Michael’s house? You sure that’s not just an excuse to raid his snack stash?”
Enya laughed. “You caught me. But seriously, it could be fun. What do you think?”
“I think it’s a brilliant idea,” Lexy said, standing and pacing toward the kitchen. “You bring Liam and your best game face. We’ll take care of the rest.”
“Perfect. We’ll be there around seven?”
“Seven it is. See you then!”
“See you!”

Lexy ended the call and turned back to Daniel, who was watching her with raised brows.
“So… who was that?”
“Enya,” she said breezily, tossing her phone onto the counter. “She and Liam are coming over tonight. Gaming night. You in?”
Daniel blinked, then grinned. “Gaming night? Hell yes, I’m in. But you realize they’ll crush us if we’re not on top of our game, right?”
Lexy rolled her eyes, already rifling through the kitchen cupboards for snacks. “Please. I could wipe the floor with both of them, even if you were AFK the whole time.”
Daniel chuckled, getting up to help her. “Big words, Lex. Let’s just hope you can back them up.”
Lexy shot him a playful glare. “Oh, you’ll see. Now, help me find the good chips before Michael hides them all again.”

They spent the next hour prepping snacks, clearing space in the living room, and setting up the gaming consoles. As they worked, Lexy couldn’t help but feel a small flicker of excitement. It wasn’t often she got to just hang out like this—and it had been way too long since she’d seen Enya and Liam properly.

The door flew open before Enya or Liam could even knock, and Lexy leaned against the frame, grinning. “About time, losers! What took you so long? Got lost, or are you just slow?” Her tone was teasing, her eyebrow arched in mock accusation.
Enya rolled her eyes. “Nice to see you too, Lexy. Always the charmer.”
Liam stepped up behind her, holding up two six-packs of beer with a proud grin. “Don’t worry, Pixie, I came prepared. Got us all covered.”
Lexy grimaced at the nickname but couldn’t hide a small smile. “How considerate. Come on in, Muppet.”
Liam smirked as he brushed past her, calling over his shoulder, “Now, where’s the fridge? No one drinks warm beer.”
Lexy shook her head, stepping aside to let Enya in. “Come on, before you freeze to death out there.”

In the living room, Daniel had already set the stage. The couch was piled high with colorful pillows and soft blankets, while the coffee table was covered with an impressive spread of snacks: chips, popcorn, candy bars, and gummy bears. A neat stack of video games sat next to it, waiting to be picked.
Daniel glanced over his shoulder as Lexy and Enya entered. “Finally. What kept you? Traffic, or was it just too hard to leave the house?”
“Nah,” Lexy shot back with a grin. “they just had to make sure they looked pretty before showing up. You know how it is.”

As if on cue, Liam strolled back into the room, a bottle already in hand and a cocky smile on his face. “Keep talking, Pixie. Let’s see how smug you are after I destroy you.” He flopped onto the couch, taking a long sip.
“We’ll see about that,” Lexy quipped, taking a seat in one of the armchairs.
Daniel held up the remote and waved it around. “So, what are we playing?”
“Mario Kart!” Enya exclaimed immediately, snatching up a controller and plopping down next to Liam. “Prepare to get annihilated.”
Liam let out a loud laugh, nearly choking on his drink. “Yeah, sure. Remember last time? You spent more time falling off the track than actually driving.”

Enya crossed her arms in mock indignation. “That was just bad luck, okay?”
“Of course it was,” Lexy chimed in, reaching for a controller herself. “Let’s see how much luck you have tonight.”
The first race began, and chaos reigned almost immediately. Enya could barely stay on the track, her kart repeatedly smashing into walls or careening off cliffs.
“Why do I keep falling?!” she yelled in frustration as her character plummeted into the void once again.
“Because you suck,” Liam replied with a laugh, easily taking the lead and shouting triumphantly every time he completed a lap.
“You’re the worst,” Enya muttered, though a grin tugged at the corners of her mouth.

Meanwhile, Lexy and Daniel were locked in a fierce battle, trading blows with shells and bananas.
“Did you just hit me with a red shell?!” Lexy shrieked, glaring at Daniel.
“That’s called strategy, Lex,” Daniel replied, utterly unfazed as he focused on the screen.
Lexy grabbed a handful of popcorn and threw it at him. “You’re such a cheat!”
“I’m a winner,” he corrected smugly.

The first race ended with Liam in first place and Enya dead last.
“So, what was that about annihilating us?” Liam asked with a smirk, raising his bottle to her in mock salute.
“I hate you.” Enya hurled a pillow at him, though her playful expression betrayed her enjoyment.

As the next race loaded up, a subtle detail became clear: Liam’s glass never stayed empty for long. While the others were still nursing their first drinks, Liam was already pouring himself another. His movements were casual, unremarkable to anyone caught up in the fun.

After several rounds of banter and laughter, the four finally settled on a movie. Lexy popped in an action-comedy, and they all made themselves comfortable. Somewhere in the middle of the film, Enya began to feel drowsy and leaned against Liam. He stiffened for a moment, his body going rigid, but eventually relaxed and let her stay.
"You're a really good friend, you know that?" Enya mumbled, her voice soft and slurred with sleep.
Liam swallowed hard, his throat bobbing visibly, and nodded even though she couldn’t see him. "Yeah... always," he murmured.
Lexy caught the moment out of the corner of her eye, her brows furrowing briefly. But she said nothing, choosing instead to let it pass.

Later, when the movie ended, Enya excused herself to the bathroom, and Daniel began tidying up the remnants of snacks and drinks. Liam remained on the couch, an empty glass in his hand, staring into the middle distance.
"Everything alright, Muppet?" Lexy asked, her tone light but edged with curiosity.
Liam snapped out of his reverie and plastered on his trademark grin. "Yeah, of course. Why wouldn’t it be?"
Lexy didn’t buy it. She tilted her head, her expression skeptical but still faintly amused. "I don’t know. Maybe because you’ve had more drinks than the rest of us combined."
"Oh, come on," Liam replied, waving her off with a dismissive laugh. "It's just a bit of fun. Didn’t realize I was under surveillance."
Lexy opened her mouth to retort, but Daniel reentered the room, carrying a small pile of empty bowls and plates. The moment passed, unspoken but lingering.

Enya returned shortly after, yawning and stretching. "Alright, Liam, ready to go? I need to crash, like, five minutes ago."
"Yeah, sure, let’s get going," Liam replied, standing up a little too quickly. Lexy noticed the faint slur in his words, the tiniest wobble in his step—barely there, but enough to catch her attention.
Enya, now a bit more alert, smiled warmly and gave Daniel and Lexy a quick hug. "Thanks for the laughs tonight. I really needed this."

As Enya and Liam headed for the door, Lexy lingered behind, her gaze following them. She crossed her arms, biting the inside of her cheek as unease bubbled in her chest.
Liam had always been a master at keeping up appearances, and tonight was no different. But Lexy had seen the cracks before. His grin was too practiced, his laughter too easy, his glass too frequently empty. Something wasn’t right.
Lexy’s fingers tapped against her arm as the door clicked shut. Should I have pushed harder? The question gnawed at her, but she shook her head. She knew Liam—he’d deflect, brush it off, and put up walls she’d never be able to climb.

"I'm going to bed now. Good night!" Daniel said, breaking her thoughts as he folded a blanket and set it on the couch.
"Yeah," Lexy replied absently, her eyes still on the closed door. Deep down, she couldn’t shake the feeling that Liam was drifting into waters too deep to tread alone.

It was well past midnight when Michael finally stepped through the front door, stifling a yawn as he kicked off his shoes. The apartment was silent, save for the faint hum of the refrigerator in the kitchen. Lexy and Daniel were clearly already in bed; the lights were off, and their doors were shut.
Making his way to the kitchen, Michael opened the fridge and found a few beers tucked away—Liam’s, no doubt, left over from earlier. With a shrug, he grabbed one, popped the cap, and leaned against the counter, taking a long sip.

His mind wandered to the recording session with Jayden earlier that day. It had been a frustrating few hours. They’d made little progress, and every idea seemed to hit a wall. Jayden had been distant, his usual sharp focus dulled by something Michael couldn’t quite put his finger on.
When Michael finally brought it up, Jayden had shrugged it off, mumbling something about nerves. The house purchase, the move, all the changes with Enya—he claimed it was weighing on him. But Michael wasn’t convinced. Jayden’s unease felt deeper than that, though he hadn’t pressed further.
"Whatever it is, he’ll work through it," Michael muttered to himself, finishing the beer and setting the empty bottle on the counter.

He padded down the hall to his room, stripping down to his boxers before collapsing into bed. The weight of the day pressed down on him, and as he pulled the blanket over his body, sleep began to tug at his senses.
Just as he was on the verge of drifting off, the door creaked open. Michael’s eyes fluttered open, and he turned his head just enough to see the silhouette slipping inside.
“Lexy?” he whispered, his voice raspy with sleep.

She didn’t respond, only eased the door shut behind her and crossed the room with quiet, deliberate steps. As she climbed into bed, Michael started to speak again, but she pressed a finger to his lips.
“Shh,” she murmured, her breath warm against his cheek.
Before he could say another word, she leaned down, her lips brushing against his neck. Her kisses trailed lower, sending a jolt of electricity through him. Michael’s breathing quickened, and he struggled to keep quiet, the faintest groan escaping his throat as Lexy continued her descent.

When she tugged at the waistband of his shorts, Michael’s restraint shattered, a low moan spilling from his lips despite himself.
“Lexy—” he began, but her touch silenced him, and he surrendered to the moment, his frustration from the day melting away in her presence.

When her lips touched him, an intense shiver shot through his body. She moved with a mixture of tenderness and determination that took him over completely. Her movements were fluid, her touches skillful, and Michael couldn't stop his reactions from getting louder.
"Fuck, Lex..." he gasped, his voice full of desire and a little overwhelmed. But she didn't interrupt him, only intensified, using her hands to tease him further as her lips and tongue drove him to the edge again and again.

Michael felt his muscles tense, his body reacting instinctively to the waves of pleasure she unleashed. It was quickly too much - and yet he didn't want it to stop.
When he finally lost control, it was like a torrent of heat and energy that ran through him. Lexy gently let go of him, a small, triumphant smile on her lips as she looked up at him.
It took Michael a moment to regain his composure, his breathing heavy and his heart pounding. "You're crazy, you know that?" he finally murmured, a mixture of exhaustion and satisfaction in his voice.
"Maybe," she replied and lay down next to him, her face buried in the pillows as she smiled contentedly.

Chapter Text

When Liam’s alarm went off, he was already awake. He had been for hours, staring at the ceiling as his thoughts circled endlessly. Would this ever change? Or were these nightmares something he’d have to endure for the rest of his life?
He yawned, his entire body aching with exhaustion. God, he was so tired. He’d sell his soul for one peaceful night—just one—without waking up drenched in sweat, his heart racing from memories he couldn’t escape.

Sighing, he swung his legs over the side of the bed and forced himself to stand. Therapy was on the agenda today. Maybe it was time to ask Dr. Carter for something to help him sleep, anything that might dull the edges of his restless nights.
Dragging his feet, he shuffled to the guest bathroom. The cold tiles underfoot did little to shake the grogginess clinging to him. After relieving himself, he turned on the tap, splashing icy water onto his face. The shock of it helped, if only a little, waking him just enough to keep moving.

As he straightened, his reflection in the mirror caught his eye. The man staring back at him looked like a stranger—dark circles under bloodshot eyes, unshaven, and utterly spent. He grimaced, debating whether to brush his teeth now or later.
Instead, he turned to the small cabinet by the sink. Moving aside a neatly folded stack of towels, he reached for the bottle of vodka hidden at the back. His fingers closed around the cool glass, and for a moment, he hesitated. Then, with a resigned sigh, he unscrewed the cap and brought the bottle to his lips.

The sharp burn as the alcohol slid down his throat was almost comforting, a bitter reminder that he was still here, still alive. Once the heat faded, he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and carefully returned the bottle to its hiding place. He didn’t even know why he bothered hiding it anymore.
With the taste of vodka lingering on his tongue, he grabbed his toothbrush and began brushing vigorously. At least his breath wouldn’t give him away.

By the time he wandered into the kitchen, Enya was already there, sitting at the table with her phone in hand. She nibbled absently on a slice of apple, her attention fixed on the endless scroll of her Instagram feed.

“Morning,” murmured Enya, noticing movement from the corner of her eye.
Liam responded quietly, his voice barely audible as he poured himself a cup of coffee. He tried his best to avoid looking at her; the longer he looked, the worse the nightmares got. Instead, he turned his gaze to the window, watching the city below slowly come to life. Four floors down, London was shaking off its slumber. The snow had completely melted, giving way to the city’s typical grey, rainy weather.
He would miss this view. In less than three weeks, he, Enya, and Jayden would be moving into the beautiful house in Dulwich. The thought still made him a little nervous.

Guilt gnawed at him. He couldn’t contribute to the enormous cost of the house, and despite Jayden’s repeated assurances that he was more than willing to cover it all, Liam couldn’t shake the feeling of being an unnecessary burden.
His stomach growled, reminding him that a cup of coffee and a swig of vodka wasn’t exactly a proper breakfast. Reluctantly, he accepted that he’d have to engage with Enya. Silently, he sat down across from her and reached for the plate she’d set out for him—loaded with exactly what she knew he liked for breakfast.

A slice of crispy toast topped with a perfectly seasoned fried egg, a few strips of crunchy bacon, and, a little apart from the savory items, a handful of fresh grapes and strawberries. The sight made his mouth water, as it did every morning.
“Thanks,” he mumbled before grabbing the toast and taking a big bite. The flavors burst on his tongue, seasoned just right, and he couldn’t suppress a satisfied hum.

Enya put her phone down and observed him for a moment. “Your nightmares are getting worse,” she said bluntly. “Maybe you should ask Dr. Carter about prescribing something to help you sleep.”
Liam chewed slowly, buying himself time to choose his words carefully. “I’m fine,” he said at last. “I don’t need that.”
“Yes, Liam, you do,” Enya replied without hesitation. “I know you don’t want to hear this, but you need help. You wake up screaming almost every night. And…” She hesitated, her tone softening. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but you look like a walking corpse. When was the last time you actually slept through the night?”
Liam thought about it. He couldn’t remember.

Enya nodded knowingly but didn’t look away. Her eyes held a quiet concern that Liam wasn’t ready to acknowledge. “If you want to talk about it…”
“I’m fine,” Liam interrupted with a weak smile, the kind that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Thanks, Enya.”
She hesitated again, pressing her lips together as though she wanted to say more, but she let it go.

Liam turned his attention back to his coffee, pouring himself another cup. He kept his back to her, hoping to avoid the weight of her concern. Even as he sipped the bitter brew, her words lingered, echoing in his mind—a quiet reminder of the things he wasn’t ready to face.

Frantically, Liam searched for a way to change the subject. It was bad enough that he had to talk about himself during therapy later; he didn’t need to do it over breakfast too. Especially not with Enya, the self-proclaimed psychologist.
Distract her. Throw her off balance. The idea hit him like a lightning bolt.

“So,” he began, leaning back in his chair and popping a grape into his mouth, “what was that thing with Jayden last week?”
Enya looked up, puzzled. “What do you mean?”
“You and Jayden … and kids?” he said, feigning curiosity. “I didn’t know that was something you two were thinking about.”
The words hit their mark. Enya’s laugh was nervous, almost defensive. “We’re not. Don’t worry,” she stammered. “I have no idea where Jay even got that idea. I mean, hello? We’ve been together, what? Seven months? And after everything we’ve been through in that short time, having kids now would be the stupidest idea ever. I need to get my own life back on track before I can even think about taking on that kind of responsibility.”
Liam nodded thoughtfully. “That actually sounds … surprisingly sensible. I was starting to worry.”
Enya tilted her head, now visibly intrigued. “You? Worried? What exactly were you worried about?”

Internally, Liam cursed himself. Great. Now he’d dragged the conversation back to himself. Alright, fine, give her something to chew on. That’ll keep her busy. He glanced down at his hands, tracing invisible patterns on the table.
“This house,” he started slowly, as if testing the waters. “It’s your dream. Your fresh start. And I’m just sort of tagging along, not really part of it. Maybe it’s my fault; I’ve always kept this whole … whatever this is … pretty casual. I still do. But when Jay brought up kids, it got me thinking, you know?”

He paused, sneaking a glance at her. Enya’s face was a mix of sadness and something else he couldn’t quite place. Not the reaction he’d expected. Taking a deep breath, he decided to keep going.
“If you two are starting to think about that kind of future, then I’m just unnecessary baggage. Maybe I shouldn’t move into the house. Maybe I should find a place of my own instead. Don’t get me wrong, Enya, I like kids. Hell, I’d love to be the cool Uncle Liam teaching them how to dominate Mario Kart,” he said with a fleeting smile, “but I can’t handle living with screaming kids 24/7.”

The room fell into a heavy silence. Liam shifted uncomfortably, unsure if he’d overstepped. He stole another glance at Enya. This time, her expression was unreadable. Her eyes were fixed on him, processing every word.
Shit. Now I’ve given her ideas. Any second now, she’d tell him it was a fantastic idea for him to get his own place. That way, she and Jay could have the whole house to themselves, free to screw each other’s brains out in every room. Not that it had ever bothered Liam when they did that. If anything, he enjoyed watching them—
Liam shook his head sharply, banishing the intrusive thought.
“Sorry,” he muttered, clearing his throat. “I … uh …”

Enya held his gaze for a long moment, her eyes soft but unwavering. She pushed her phone further aside and leaned forward slightly, resting her elbows on the table. “Liam,” she began gently, her voice carrying a warmth that felt almost tangible, “I know you feel like an outsider. But you’re not. Not to me, and not to Jayden.”
Liam opened his mouth to respond, but she raised a hand, stopping him.

“I mean it. We wouldn’t be where we are today without you. And that house, Liam…” She hesitated as though searching for the right words. “It’s not just our fresh start. It’s yours too. You’re a part of it, a part of us. You belong, no matter how much you try to convince yourself otherwise.”
He felt the tight knot in his chest grow heavier, her words hitting him harder than he expected.
“And whatever Jayden and I plan or don’t plan—whether there are kids or not—it doesn’t change the fact that we want you here, Liam. Not as a burden, not as someone tagging along, but as family.”

The word “family” hung in the air between them, an unspoken invitation that Liam didn’t know how to accept. His throat tightened, and it felt as though breathing had suddenly become an impossible task.
Enya’s voice softened further as she continued, “I know you’ve been through a lot. I see that. And I know it’s hard for you to believe, but I’m here, okay? I see you. I see how hard you’re fighting every single day. And I need you to know that you’re not alone, Liam.”
Liam felt something crack deep inside, an unbearable pressure building in his chest. Her sincerity was too much, threatening to dismantle the walls he’d spent so long constructing.

“Thanks,” he murmured at last, his voice unsteady. “But … I … I need to go. Therapy. I’m running late.”
Before she could say anything, he pushed back his chair and stood up abruptly. The legs scraped loudly against the floor, and he avoided looking at her. His hands trembled slightly as he grabbed his jacket.
“Liam, wait—”
“I’ll check in later,” he said over his shoulder, heading to the door with hurried steps.

He slipped out before she could respond, the door clicking shut behind him. Outside, the cold morning air hit his face, sharp and bracing. He inhaled deeply, trying to steady the tremor in his hands and suppress the tears that threatened to spill.
But her words lingered, echoing in his mind. “Family… You’re not alone… I see you…”
He clenched his fists, feeling the coarse fabric of his jacket press into his palms. The wall around his emotions was still standing, but he could feel the cracks spreading. And that terrified him more than anything else.

Chapter Text

Enya stood at the sink, washing the frying pan from breakfast, while the cold, gray light of the rainy morning seeped through the kitchen window. Raindrops streaked the glass in irregular patterns, mirroring the thoughts that swirled chaotically in her mind. Liam's abrupt exit lingered with her, his words echoing and leaving a hollow ache in her chest.

The sudden sound of the front door clicking open pulled her from her thoughts. Moments later, the rapid patter of claws on the hardwood floor filled the air as Gremlin bolted into the kitchen. The little dog barked once, happily, his tail wagging furiously.
“Hey, you,” Enya greeted him, a faint smile tugging at her lips despite the heaviness in her heart. She dried her hands on a nearby towel and crouched down as Gremlin jumped excitedly around her. “Did you have fun out there?” She rubbed behind his ears, and the dog flopped onto his back, exposing his belly.
“I don’t know how you do it,” came Jayden’s voice as he entered the kitchen, shaking droplets of rain off his coat before hanging it on the back of a chair. “Every time, he acts like he loves you more than me.”
Enya smirked, her fingers still scratching Gremlin’s belly. “Can you blame him?”

Jayden chuckled, stepping closer. His face was flushed from the cold, and his damp hair stuck slightly to his forehead. “It’s freezing out there,” he complained, rubbing his hands together for warmth. He walked up behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist and pulling her close. “Warm me up before I turn into an icicle.”
Enya laughed softly, straightening up but staying within his embrace. She squealed when his chilled hands pressed against her sides through her sweater. “Jay! Your hands are freezing!”
“I know,” he murmured into her hair, leaning his head against hers. “That’s why I need you. You’re warm.”

For a few moments, they simply stood there, her back against his chest, his arms snug around her waist. The sound of the rain tapping against the windows filled the kitchen, mingling with the rhythmic rise and fall of their breaths.
Jayden eventually broke the silence. “Has Liam been up yet? He’s got that session today, right?”
“He’s already gone,” Enya replied, leaning her head back against his shoulder. “We talked a little before he left … and then he just kind of bolted out of here.”
Jayden frowned slightly and loosened his hold so he could turn her gently to face him. “What did he say?”

Enya sighed, recounting their conversation. She spoke of Liam’s self-doubt, his feelings of being a burden, and his suggestion that he might need to find his own place. Her voice wavered as she confessed, “It made me realize how much he’s hurting, and I just … I don’t know how to help him, Jay. I want to so badly, but I feel like I’m failing him.”
Jayden reached up and cupped her cheek, his thumb brushing softly against her skin. “Hey,” he said in a low, soothing voice. “You’re not failing him. Just being here, showing him that he’s not alone, is already doing so much. But some things we can’t fix for him. That’s what the therapy is for.”
“But what if it’s not enough?” she asked, her brow furrowing. “What if he needs more?”

Jayden smiled gently and shook his head. “He has more. He has you. And us. He knows he’s not alone. We just need to trust that he’ll let the therapy work.”
Enya nodded slowly, though her eyes were still shadowed with doubt. “I just don’t want him to feel like he’s alone in this.”
“He won’t,” Jayden assured her again. “Because he has us. And I’ll be right here to remind you of that whenever you need it.”

Enya leaned into Jayden’s touch, her cheek resting against his hand. For a moment, the weight on her chest felt lighter, as though his steady presence was holding it up for her.
“Thank you,” she whispered, her voice soft and sincere.
“For what?” he asked, tilting his head.
“For always knowing exactly what to say,” she replied with a faint smile, her fingers curling around his wrist.
Jayden’s lips curved into a small smirk. “What can I say? I’m gifted.”

She chuckled at that, the sound light and airy in the otherwise quiet kitchen. But as her laughter faded, her gaze lingered on his. Something in his expression shifted—his teasing smirk softened into something deeper, more tender.
His thumb brushed her cheek again, slower this time, and the room seemed to shrink until it was just the two of them, their breaths mingling in the cool air of the kitchen. “You know,” he murmured, his voice dropping lower, “I didn’t just come back inside to warm up.”
Enya arched a brow, trying to suppress the nervous flutter in her stomach. “Oh? Then why did you come back inside?”
“To remind you,” he said, his hands sliding down to her waist, “that you’re not alone either.”

The shift in his tone made her pulse quicken. His touch was firm yet gentle as he pulled her closer, their bodies fitting together like pieces of a puzzle. Before she could respond, his lips found hers—warm and insistent, chasing away the chill of the rainy morning.
The kiss deepened, a slow burn igniting between them. Jayden’s hands slid to her lower back, holding her tightly against him, while hers tangled in his damp hair. He groaned softly against her lips, the sound sending a shiver down her spine.
Her back bumped against the counter as he guided her with deliberate ease, his kisses trailing from her lips to her jaw, then lower to the sensitive spot just beneath her ear. “Jay,” she whispered, her voice breathless, “we’re in the kitchen.”

“And?” he murmured against her skin, his lips curling into a mischievous grin. “It’s not the first time I’m eating you out in the kitchen.”
Her laughter burst out before she could stop it, a genuine, light sound that echoed through the room. She playfully pushed at his chest, her cheeks flushed both from his words and the heat building between them. “You’re incorrigible.”
“Maybe,” he admitted, leaning back just enough to flash her a devilish grin, “but you love me for it.”
“I do,” she said softly, her fingers tracing the line of his jaw. The playful spark in her eyes was now tinged with something deeper, more intimate.
“Good,” he whispered, his voice low and thick with desire. “Because I’m about to remind you exactly why.”
Before she could respond, his hands slid under her thighs, lifting her slightly as his lips returned to hers with a fervent urgency. The cold edge of the counter was quickly forgotten as Jayden deepened the kiss, one hand sliding up her back to cradle her neck, the other gripping her hip firmly.

Jayden’s lips moved with unhurried confidence, coaxing her into the moment, until the world outside ceased to exist. The chill from the rain-soaked morning was long forgotten, replaced by the heat that surged between them. His hands mapped her curves with a reverence that sent shivers racing along her spine, as though he were memorizing every inch of her anew.
Enya clung to him, her fingers weaving into his hair as he pressed her firmly against the counter, their breaths mingling in the charged air between them. Each touch, each lingering kiss, felt like a vow unspoken, a promise that existed in the spaces where words could never suffice.

“Jay…” she murmured his name, a soft plea that made his heart clench.
“I’ve got you,” he whispered against her lips, his voice a husky reassurance. The way he looked at her, like she was the only thing in the world that mattered, made her chest tighten and her pulse race.
His hands slid beneath the hem of her shirt, his fingers brushing her skin with the lightest of touches. Slowly, he lifted the fabric, his eyes never leaving hers as he revealed the soft lines of her body to the dim light of the kitchen.
“You’re perfect,” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. It wasn’t just the way he looked at her; it was the way he said it, like he truly believed it.

She felt the warmth of his hands steady her as he lifted her effortlessly onto the counter, the cool surface against her thighs drawing a soft gasp from her lips. Jayden followed, his body pressing into hers, his movements unhurried yet deliberate. The friction of his jeans against her bare legs sent a jolt of electricity through her, and her breath hitched as his kisses became deeper, more urgent.
“Tell me if it’s too much,” he murmured against her ear, his voice a gravelly caress that made her toes curl.
“It’s never too much,” she whispered back, her voice trembling with anticipation.
The rain outside seemed to fade into the background as Jayden’s hands found the waistband of her leggings, his touch firm yet patient as he slid them down. Her pulse quickened, the vulnerability of the moment matched by the absolute trust she felt in his arms.

He took his time, his kisses trailing from her lips to her collarbone, then lower, worshipping her with a devotion that left her breathless. When he finally pressed into her, the sensation was overwhelming, a perfect melding of passion and tenderness that made her body arch into his.
Her fingers gripped his shoulders, nails digging into the fabric of his shirt as they moved together, their rhythm unspoken yet perfectly in sync. The soft sounds of their shared breaths filled the space, mingling with the steady patter of rain against the window.
Jayden’s forehead rested against hers as their movements grew more frantic, the intensity building until it felt like the world might shatter around them. Yet even in the crescendo of their passion, there was an intimacy, a quiet understanding that this was more than physical—it was a testament to everything they’d been through, and everything they would face together.

When the moment finally broke, it was like falling into a stillness that enveloped them both. Jayden wrapped his arms around her, holding her as though she were the most precious thing in the world.
“I love you,” he whispered, his breath warm against her temple.
Enya smiled, her heart still racing as she pressed a kiss to his jaw. “I love you more.”

The kitchen had fallen into a comfortable silence, the kind only shared by two people utterly at ease with one another. Enya rested her head against Jayden’s chest, their bodies still entwined as the patter of rain echoed softly outside.
“We should probably eat something,” Enya murmured eventually, her voice thick with contentment.
Jayden chuckled, pressing a kiss to her hair. “If we have any energy left for that.”
She rolled her eyes, playfully smacking his chest before sliding off the counter to retrieve her discarded leggings. “You’ll regret skipping breakfast when you’re starving at rehearsal later.”

As Enya busied herself tidying up once more, Jayden lingered, watching her with a smile that spoke volumes. Yet, as he leaned against the counter, his expression turned pensive.
“Do you think Liam’s doing okay?” he asked, breaking the silence.
Enya froze mid-movement, her hands stilling on a coffee mug. “I don’t know,” she admitted softly. “He left in such a hurry this morning. I think...he’s struggling more than he lets on.”
Jayden stepped closer, resting a reassuring hand on her shoulder. “It’s good he’s going to therapy, though. That’s a big step.”

She nodded, but her shoulders sagged under the weight of something deeper. “It just...it feels like my fault,” she whispered, her voice trembling.
Jayden blinked, clearly startled. “What? Enya, how could this possibly be your fault?”
She sighed, leaning against the counter as she rubbed her temples. “If I hadn’t left Ryan... If I’d just stayed, maybe Liam wouldn’t have—”
“No.” Jayden’s voice was firm but not harsh, cutting through her words. He moved closer, gently taking her hands in his and forcing her to meet his gaze. “Stop right there. You’re not doing this, Enya.”
“But—”
“No,” he interrupted again, his tone softening. “This isn’t on you. Not even a little. It’s on Ryan. He’s the one who broke you, who pushed you so far that you had to run to save yourself. And Liam? He’s hurting because he loves you, not because you made the wrong choice.”

Enya’s eyes welled up, but Jayden squeezed her hands, grounding her. “You didn’t cause this, and you’re not responsible for fixing it alone. The fact that you care so much, that you’re here for him? That’s what matters.”
Her lip trembled as she looked away, tears threatening to spill. “It just feels like I failed him.”
Jayden pulled her into his arms, his voice low and soothing. “You didn’t fail anyone, Enya. You survived. And by surviving, you gave him someone to hold on to. That’s more than he could ever ask for.”
She buried her face in his chest, letting his words wash over her. Outside, the rain continued its relentless rhythm, the grey skies matching the heaviness in her heart.

The rain was still coming down in sheets as Liam stepped out of the cab, pulling his jacket tighter against the cold. The therapy office loomed ahead, its unassuming facade blending into the dreary street.
He hesitated, standing under the awning as the water dripped from the brim of his hood. It wasn’t the first time he’d been here, but the weight in his chest hadn’t lessened. If anything, it felt heavier today, the conversation with Enya that morning still replaying in his mind.
Taking a deep breath, Liam pushed open the door, the warmth of the interior contrasting sharply with the chill outside. The faint scent of coffee and the quiet murmur of voices greeted him as he checked in at the front desk.

Moments later, he found himself in the familiar office of Dr. Carter. The therapist’s calm demeanor and inviting smile should have been comforting, but Liam’s stomach twisted as he sat down.
“So, Liam,” Dr. Carter began, her voice steady and patient. “Where would you like to start today?”
Liam shifted in his seat, his gaze dropping to the floor. “Honestly? I have no idea.”

Chapter Text

The room was warm and softly lit, the faint hum of rain against the window serving as a backdrop. Liam sat on the plush couch, his shoulders tense, his hands clasped tightly between his knees. Dr. Carter, seated across from him in a chair that was just comfortable enough to put patients at ease, observed him patiently.
“So, how are you feeling after our first session?” Dr. Carter asked, his voice calm and steady.
Liam shrugged, his gaze fixed on a point on the floor. “Fine, I guess. I mean… it’s not like anything’s changed overnight, right?”
“That’s true. Therapy isn’t a quick fix,” Dr. Carter replied with a small smile. “But it’s a step forward. Did anything from our last conversation stick with you?”

Liam hesitated, then nodded. “You said something about how… ignoring things doesn’t make them go away. I’ve been thinking about that.”
“And?”
“It’s true,” Liam admitted quietly. “I’ve been trying to bury everything, you know? All the guilt, the anger… But it just keeps coming back. Especially at night.”
Dr. Carter leaned forward slightly, encouraging him without pressing. “What happens at night, Liam?”
He exhaled shakily, his hands tightening. “The nightmares. Every time I close my eyes, it’s like I’m back there. Back with Ryan. Or watching… watching Enya go through all of that and not doing enough to stop it.”

Dr. Carter waited a beat before responding. “You feel responsible for what happened to her.”
“Yeah,” Liam muttered, his voice rough. “I should’ve done more. I should’ve seen it. Stopped it. But I didn’t. And now she’s the one trying to fix me, like I’m some broken project. I hate that she feels like she owes me anything.”
“Do you think she does?”
Liam paused, chewing on the question. “I don’t know. Maybe. She said something earlier, about wanting to help me, but… I don’t know if she really can. I don’t even know if I can help myself.”
Dr. Carter nodded, giving Liam space to breathe. “It’s common to feel that way when you’re overwhelmed. But part of what we’re doing here is breaking those feelings down, piece by piece, so they’re easier to manage. Guilt is heavy, Liam, but it doesn’t have to define you. What happened to Enya was not your fault, just as what’s happening to you now isn’t something you have to handle alone.”

Liam’s throat tightened. He wanted to believe him, but the weight of his own failures pressed down harder. “It doesn’t feel that way,” he said, his voice barely audible.
“Feelings aren’t facts,” Dr. Carter said gently. “They’re valid, but they don’t always tell the whole story. We’ll work on that—on changing the way you see yourself and your role in what happened.“

The room was quiet except for the steady rhythm of rain against the window. Liam's hands rested on his knees, his knuckles white from the pressure of his grip. Dr. Carter observed him with patient intensity, giving him the space to speak at his own pace.
“You mentioned guilt,” Dr. Carter said gently, “and how it’s tied to what happened to Enya. But I think part of that guilt might also come from what happened to you. Would you be willing to walk me through that? From your perspective?”

Liam stiffened, his jaw tightening. His eyes dropped to the floor, where his foot tapped nervously against the plush carpet. “I… I don’t remember much,” he admitted hoarsely.
“That’s okay,” Dr. Carter assured him. “We’ll take it slowly. Just tell me what you do remember. Start from where things began to feel wrong.”
Liam swallowed hard, the lump in his throat making it difficult to speak. “It was during our last show of the tour. Everything was fine at first. I felt good—excited, you know? The crowd was incredible. But… then it all went sideways.”
Dr. Carter remained silent, his attentive gaze encouraging Liam to continue.

“I don’t know what happened,” Liam said, his voice trembling. “One moment, I was onstage, and the next… I wasn’t okay. My head was spinning, and my body felt wrong. Weak. Heavy. I thought maybe I was dehydrated or something, so I went back to the bus to lie down.” He shook his head, frustration seeping into his tone. “I was alone. The others went to a bar to celebrate the end of the tour.”
“And then?” Dr. Carter prompted, his voice steady.
Liam’s breathing quickened, and he rubbed his palms against his thighs, as if trying to ground himself. “That’s the thing. I… don’t remember. There’s this huge gap. I can’t… piece it together. The next thing I remember…” He trailed off, his face twisting with pain.
“It’s all right, Liam,” Dr. Carter said softly. “Take your time.”

Liam nodded, his gaze distant. “The next thing I remember is pain. So much pain. Everywhere. Like I was on fire, but I couldn’t move. Couldn’t scream. And then… his face.”
“Ryan?”
“Yeah,” Liam whispered, his hands balling into fists. “That smug, overconfident grin of his. Like he was proud of what he’d done. And then he said it.” His voice cracked, and he looked away, his body trembling.
“What did he say?” Dr. Carter asked, leaning forward slightly.

“He said… ‘I haven't done anything to Enya yet. But I will as soon as I'm done with you.’” Liam’s voice was barely above a whisper, but the venom in his tone was unmistakable.
Dr. Carter’s expression remained calm, though his brow furrowed slightly. “That must have been terrifying to hear.”
Liam nodded, his jaw clenching. “I couldn’t stop him. I couldn’t even stop myself from being there, from being… weak. I failed her. I failed myself.”
“You didn’t fail,” Dr. Carter said firmly. “What happened to you wasn’t your fault, Liam. You were drugged, vulnerable. He made a choice to hurt you, to use that vulnerability against you. That’s on him, not you.”

Liam didn’t respond, his mind trapped in the fragments of memory that still haunted him. Dr. Carter allowed the silence to linger, offering Liam the space to process.
After a moment, Dr. Carter continued. “This is a lot to carry on your own, but you don’t have to. We can work through this, piece by piece. And if it helps, we can revisit the idea of medication—not just for sleep, but for some of the anxiety and flashbacks you’re experiencing.”
Liam’s head snapped up at the mention of medication. His voice came out almost immediately, a little too eager. “Yes. I want that.”

Dr. Carter tilted his head slightly, surprised by Liam’s readiness. “All right. I’ll prescribe something to help you sleep better, and we can discuss options for managing the anxiety as well. These won’t erase what happened, but they might help you find some relief while we work through this.”
Liam nodded, his hands unclenching slightly. “I… I’ve thought about asking for something. I just didn’t want to seem… I don’t know… weak.”
“You’re not weak, Liam,” Dr. Carter said gently. “Recognizing when you need help and asking for it is one of the strongest things you can do.”
For the first time in what felt like forever, a tiny flicker of hope sparked in Liam’s chest. “Thank you,” he murmured, his voice barely audible.

“We’ll take this one step at a time,” Dr. Carter assured him. “And you don’t have to do it alone.”
Liam sat back, letting the doctor’s words sink in. For once, the weight on his shoulders felt just a little lighter.
But room felt heavier as Liam’s thoughts began to churn. His gaze remained glued to the floor, and he could feel the storm building in his chest. He exhaled sharply, the words spilling out before he could second-guess himself.
“There’s… something else,” he said, his voice raw. “Something that’s been eating me alive.”
Dr. Carter’s calm, steady gaze didn’t waver. “I’m listening.”

Liam rubbed his hands over his face, then dropped them to his lap, gripping his thighs tightly. “It’s about New Year’s Eve. We… we were drunk. Enya, Jayden, and me. And we…” His voice caught, and he cleared his throat. “We slept together. All three of us.”
Dr. Carter didn’t react, allowing Liam the space to continue.
“I thought it would be fine,” Liam said, his words tumbling over each other in his rush to explain. “I mean, we are in a kind of love triangle, so it wasn't the first time that we had sex as a threesome. But that night… something was different. I wasn’t really me. It was like I was… I don’t know, trying to prove something? Or trying to feel something—anything—other than the mess in my head.”
He looked up briefly, his eyes glassy with unshed tears. “I wasn’t gentle, Doc. I am a rather dominant person by nature and I like it rough, but I wasn’t myself. I was angry. And they didn’t notice, because that’s what Enya wanted—someone rough, someone in control. But it wasn’t real. It wasn’t me.”

Liam paused, his breathing uneven as he tried to steady himself. “I’ve been thinking about it ever since, and I hate what I’ve become. I feel like I’ve lost myself completely. I don’t even know who I am anymore.”
Dr. Carter leaned forward slightly, his expression a mix of empathy and professionalism. “Liam, I want you to understand that what you’re feeling is valid. It sounds like that night wasn’t just about physical intimacy for you—it became a way to channel everything you’ve been suppressing. The anger, the pain, the confusion.”
Liam nodded, swallowing hard. “It’s not fair to them. I feel like I’m using them. But at the same time, I… I need them. They’re the only people who make me feel… I don’t know, human.”
Dr. Carter considered his words carefully. “It’s clear you care deeply for Enya and Jayden, and that’s why this is so difficult for you. You’re holding yourself to a standard that’s impossible to meet when you’re carrying so much unresolved pain.”

Liam swallowed hard, his gaze fixed firmly on the floor. “Enya is...I don’t know how to explain it. She’s… she’s one of the best people I know. Kind, patient, always trying to help me, even when I don’t deserve it.” His voice cracked slightly, and he paused to compose himself. “But every time I look at her… I get so angry.”
Dr. Carter tilted his head slightly, inviting Liam to elaborate.
“It’s not her fault,” Liam said quickly, almost pleadingly. “She didn’t do anything wrong. But when I see her, all I can think about is him. About what he did to me… about what he wanted to do to her.”

His hands trembled as he raked them through his hair, his voice growing more desperate. “And that just makes me furious. Not at her. At him. At myself. At everything. But it’s like she’s a trigger, you know? She doesn’t deserve that, Doc. She’s been through enough because of him. And yet, every time I see her, it’s like this… this storm of rage just boils up inside me.”
Dr. Carter leaned forward slightly, his expression calm but focused. “Have you talked to her about this?”
Liam shook his head vehemently. “No. God, no. I can’t. How do you even explain something like that without sounding like a complete bastard?” He exhaled shakily, his voice dropping to a whisper. “I’m scared, Doc.”
“Scared of what?” Dr. Carter asked gently.

Liam’s hands dropped to his lap, his fingers twisting together as if trying to wring out his frustration. “Of hurting her. Not physically, but… I don’t know. Maybe even that. I mean, I’d never lay a hand on her, but the anger is so overwhelming sometimes. What if I lash out with words? What if I say something I can’t take back? She’s been nothing but good to me, and I… I don’t want to ruin that. I don’t want to ruin her.”
The silence that followed felt heavy, broken only by the sound of Liam’s labored breathing. Dr. Carter allowed the pause, letting Liam’s words settle before responding.
“Liam,” he began softly, “what you’re feeling is understandable, given what you’ve been through. Trauma can manifest in many ways, and triggers like this are common. But recognizing this—acknowledging the anger and the fear—is a crucial first step.”
Liam nodded weakly, his hands still trembling.

“We can work on ways to manage these feelings,” Dr. Carter continued. “Learning to redirect the anger, to separate Enya from the trauma you associate with Ryan. It won’t be easy, but it’s possible. And it’s something we can tackle together.”
“How?” Liam asked, his voice barely above a whisper.
“Through mindfulness, grounding techniques, and, eventually, reframing those associations,” Dr. Carter explained. “But the most important thing right now is that you’re here, willing to work through this. That takes courage.”
Liam let out a shaky breath, the weight of his emotions pressing down on him. “I just… I don’t want to lose her. Or Jayden. They’re all I have left that’s good.”
“And that’s exactly why you’re here,” Dr. Carter said with a small, encouraging smile. “To make sure that doesn’t happen.”

For the first time, Liam felt a flicker of hope amidst the chaos. It wasn’t much, but it was enough to keep him grounded.

Chapter Text

When Liam came home that afternoon, Jayden was sitting on the living room couch, strumming his guitar and softly humming to himself. Every now and then, he paused to jot down notes—song lyrics, Liam assumed.
Quietly, Liam leaned against the doorframe and watched him for a moment. Somehow, today felt... lighter. Maybe there was actually something to this therapy thing, talking to someone about his thoughts and feelings—especially the ones he couldn’t bring up with Jayden and Enya.
His current tension toward Enya could destroy their friendship if he let it slip. And that was the last thing Liam wanted. If it came down to it, he’d rather remove himself from the equation entirely, pull back from this complicated dynamic, even find his own place to live.
He could go without the sex. What he couldn’t live without was their friendship.

Still, watching Jayden now stirred something deep in his chest—and lower. It had been a while since he and Jay had been together without Enya. The thought made his cock twitch.
His mind wandered back to that night on tour, after the Frankfurt gig. They were heading toward Austria, and Liam had smoked a joint to wind down. That haze of bliss had given him such a raging hard-on that he hadn’t even thought twice before climbing into Jayden’s bunk.
Jay hadn’t been asleep, thank God. Instead, he’d been lazily jerking himself off, clearly thinking the same thing Liam had been. Liam had taken over, his hands and mouth doing a far better job, and before long, Jay had been moaning into his ear, clawing at his back as Liam fucked him so hard into the mattress that Jay was thankful they didn’t have a show the next day.

"How long are you planning to stand there and stare at me?"
Jayden’s voice pulled Liam out of his thoughts. He blinked, realizing Jay was looking up at him with a smirk.
"Not bad," Liam said, nodding toward the guitar. "Is that something new?"
Jay shrugged, setting the guitar down. "Maybe. Or maybe it’s just me trying to come up with something halfway decent." He patted the spot on the couch beside him. "Sit. You look like you’ve had a long day."
Liam hesitated, then crossed the room and dropped onto the couch. "Yeah, you could say that."
Jayden studied him for a moment. "How was therapy?"
"Fine," Liam said curtly.
"Fine, huh?" Jayden leaned back, folding his arms behind his head. "I’m guessing you don’t want to talk about it?"
Liam snorted. "You guessed right."

Jayden didn’t push. Instead, he rested a hand on Liam’s thigh, casual and warm, but it sent sparks up Liam’s spine. The weight of that touch brought back every vivid memory of that night on tour, and Liam had to stop himself from leaning into it.
"Want to talk about something else, then?" Jayden asked, his grin easy but edged with a hint of mischief.
Liam looked at him, felt the heat of his hand even through the denim of his jeans. His mind raced back to the cramped, swaying bunk, Jayden’s gasps and the look of bliss on his face.
"Actually," Liam said, his voice rougher than he’d intended, "maybe I don’t want to talk at all."
Jayden’s grin widened, something darker flashing in his eyes. "Oh?"

Jayden’s grin didn’t waver as he leaned forward, his hand sliding a fraction higher on Liam’s thigh. "No talking, huh? What exactly do you have in mind?"
Liam felt his breath hitch, the casual warmth of Jayden’s hand now a slow burn against his skin. The memories of their last time together played vividly in his head—Jay’s desperate moans, the way he clung to him, the quiet buzz of the bus masking their sounds.
"Don’t play dumb," Liam said, his voice low, almost a growl.
Jay’s eyes lit up with something teasing, daring. "Oh, I’m not playing dumb. Just making sure we’re on the same page."

Liam didn’t respond with words. Instead, he shifted closer, his hand curling around Jayden’s wrist, pulling it away from his thigh and pinning it to the couch. The sudden motion made Jayden inhale sharply, and Liam could feel the quickening of his pulse beneath his grip.
"You were working so hard on that song," Liam murmured, his lips barely brushing against Jay’s ear. "I’d hate to distract you."
Jayden chuckled, his free hand bracing against Liam’s chest. "Oh, please. You’re the king of distractions."
"Am I?" Liam leaned back slightly, enough to catch Jayden’s gaze. "You saying I’m better at this than your precious songwriting?"
Jayden opened his mouth to reply, but whatever quip he had died on his tongue as Liam’s lips crashed into his. The kiss was searing, all heat and pent-up tension. Jayden melted into it instantly, his hands moving to fist in Liam’s shirt, dragging him closer.

They broke apart for air, both breathing heavily. Jayden’s pupils were blown wide, his lips red and swollen. "Okay," he said, his voice a little breathless. "You’re better."
Liam smirked, pressing his forehead against Jay’s. "That’s what I thought."
Jayden’s fingers tugged at the hem of Liam’s shirt, his grin returning full force. "But if you’re going to be this cocky, you better back it up."
Liam didn’t need more of an invitation. He shoved the coffee table aside with his foot, creating enough space for Jayden to slide down onto the couch, lying back against the cushions. Jayden’s shirt was the first to go, tossed carelessly aside, and Liam took a moment to admire him—the way his chest rose and fell, the way his grin softened into something more vulnerable.

He trailed a hand down Jayden’s torso, feeling the muscles jump beneath his touch. Jay shivered, his breath hitching as Liam leaned down, pressing open-mouthed kisses to his neck, his collarbone, and lower.
"You always this bossy?" Jayden teased, his voice wavering as Liam’s hands worked at the waistband of his jeans.
"Only when it’s you," Liam replied, his words a low growl against Jayden’s skin.
And just like that, the banter faded, replaced by the intimacy of touch and the unspoken understanding they shared. For now, there were no heavy thoughts, no lingering shadows from the past. Just the two of them, reconnecting in a way only they could.

Jayden’s grin didn’t falter, even as Liam’s grip on his wrist tightened just enough to send a clear message. "What’s with the sudden mood, huh?" Jayden asked, voice teasing, but his breathing was already uneven.
Liam’s lips curled into a smirk, his eyes darkening as he leaned closer. "You think I’m in the mood to talk?"
Jayden opened his mouth to retort, but Liam didn’t give him the chance. He pressed forward, their lips colliding in a kiss that was all hunger and control. Jayden groaned against him, his free hand gripping Liam’s shirt, but Liam pulled back just as quickly, leaving Jay breathless and blinking up at him.

"You’ve been sitting here," Liam murmured, his voice low and rough, "making yourself look so damn perfect, humming your little songs like you’re not driving me insane."
Jayden chuckled, but it came out shaky, his bravado cracking under Liam’s intensity. "Perfect, huh? Didn’t think you noticed."
"Oh, I notice everything." Liam’s knee nudged Jayden’s legs apart as he leaned in again, pinning him against the couch. His other hand trailed deliberately slow down Jayden’s chest, fingers pressing just hard enough to leave a trail of heat in their wake. "Like how you’re already squirming for me."
Jayden’s breath hitched, his grin faltering as Liam’s hand hovered just above the waistband of his jeans. "You’re—"
"Quiet," Liam ordered, his tone sharp but not unkind. "I’m not done."

Jayden’s eyes widened slightly at the command, a shiver running through him as he bit his lip to stay silent. Liam’s smirk deepened. He took off Jay's pants, tossing them aside before leaning back, letting his gaze roam unapologetically.
"You’re a goddamn sight," Liam muttered, his hands now bracketing Jayden’s hips, holding him firmly in place. He bent down, his lips brushing the sensitive skin of Jayden’s neck, his teeth grazing just enough to make Jayden gasp.
Jayden arched into him, his hands instinctively reaching for Liam, but Liam caught them, pinning them above Jayden’s head with one hand. "Not yet," Liam growled, his voice dripping with authority. "You’re mine right now, and we’re doing this my way."
Jayden whimpered softly, his resistance melting as Liam’s free hand slid down, freeing him from his underwear at last. He worked deliberately, his movements slow enough to drive Jayden crazy, his lips trailing a burning path down his chest and stomach.

"You remember Frankfurt?" Liam asked, his voice a low rumble against Jayden’s skin.
Jayden’s breath came out in a shaky laugh. "How could I forget?"
Liam’s lips curled into a dangerous smile. "Good. Because I’m about to remind you exactly how that felt."
With that, Liam leaned in, every touch and kiss laced with dominance and unrelenting focus. Jayden’s soft gasps and murmured pleas filled the air, the tension between them a palpable thing, thick and heady. Liam had always been the one to take charge when he wanted to, and today was no exception.
And Jayden, lost in the haze of Liam’s attention, wouldn’t have had it any other way.

Jayden barely had time to catch his breath before Liam pushed him further back into the couch, their bodies pressed together with an urgency that left no room for hesitation. Liam’s hands slid down Jayden’s thighs, spreading them wider, his grip firm and unrelenting.
“You’ve been teasing me, sitting there all innocent,” Liam growled against Jayden’s ear, his breath hot and ragged. “But I know exactly what you want.”
Jayden shivered at the commanding tone, his chest heaving as Liam trailed his lips along his neck, biting down just enough to leave a mark. “Tell me,” Liam demanded, his voice low and rough.
“I want you,” Jayden admitted, his voice barely a whisper, but the way he arched his hips against Liam left no doubt about the depth of his desire.
Liam smirked, his hands roaming with purpose as he leaned back just enough to admire the sight before him—Jayden’s flushed skin, his swollen lips, the way his body trembled with anticipation. “Good,” Liam murmured, his voice laced with dark satisfaction. “Because I’m not holding back.”

With one fluid motion, Liam pulled Jayden’s hips forward, aligning their bodies in a way that made Jayden gasp. The stretch was intense, but the friction was electric, a perfect balance of pain and pleasure that made his head spin. Liam didn’t hesitate, setting a rhythm that was demanding, each movement deliberate and calculated to drive Jayden wild.
Jayden’s fingers clawed at Liam’s shoulders, his breaths coming in uneven gasps as Liam took control, his pace relentless. The sound of skin against skin filled the room, mingling with the creak of the couch and their shared moans.
“You take me so well,” Liam growled, his hands gripping Jayden’s waist to keep him in place. His movements were rough but precise, each thrust drawing a new sound from Jayden that sent a surge of satisfaction through him.

Jayden’s head fell back, his eyes fluttering shut as he surrendered completely to Liam’s dominance. “Liam,” he gasped, his voice breaking as he felt himself teetering on the edge.
“Not yet,” Liam commanded, his tone leaving no room for argument. He slowed his pace just enough to keep Jayden from tumbling over, leaning down to capture his lips in a bruising kiss. “You’re not coming until I say so.”
Jayden whimpered against Liam’s mouth, his body trembling with the effort of holding back. The control Liam had over him was intoxicating, the push and pull of pleasure almost too much to bear.
Liam’s hand moved to Jayden’s throat, his grip firm but not constricting, just enough to remind him who was in charge. “Look at me,” Liam ordered, his voice a low growl. Jayden’s eyes snapped open, meeting Liam’s intense gaze. “That’s it. I want to see you fall apart for me.”
With a sharp snap of his hips, Liam pushed Jayden over the edge, the force of his release leaving him trembling and gasping for air. Liam followed moments later, his body tensing as he buried himself deep, a guttural moan escaping his lips.

They stayed tangled together for a moment, their breaths mingling as they came down from the high. Liam pressed a kiss to Jayden’s temple, his hand brushing through his damp hair. “You’re incredible,” he murmured, his voice softer now, filled with affection.
Jayden chuckled weakly, his body still humming with the aftershocks. “You’re not so bad yourself,” he teased, though the warmth in his gaze betrayed his true feelings.
Liam smirked, brushing a thumb over Jayden’s flushed cheek. “Come on,” he said, his tone playful. “Let’s clean up before the couch gives out completely.”

As they made their way to the bathroom, Jayden felt Liam’s hand on the small of his back, steady and possessive, guiding him toward the bathroom. The promise of more lingered in the air, heavy with anticipation. Jayden’s heart raced as Liam opened the bathroom door, flicking on the light to reveal the spacious walk-in shower.
Without a word, Liam turned on the water, letting the spray heat up as he stepped closer to Jayden, their bodies just barely touching. His fingers traced the edge of Jayden’s jaw before tilting his chin up. “We’re not done yet,” Liam said, his voice low and commanding, sending a shiver down Jayden’s spine.
Jayden smirked, a playful defiance glinting in his eyes. “I didn’t think we were.”

Liam let out a low chuckle, pulling Jayden into the shower with him. The hot water cascaded over their bodies, washing away the sheen of sweat but doing nothing to cool the heat between them. Liam pressed Jayden against the cool tile wall, the contrast making him gasp.
“You’ve been teasing me all day,” Liam murmured, his hands roaming over Jayden’s slick skin, gripping his waist with the kind of intensity that left no room for doubt. “And now you’re going to pay for it.”
Jayden’s breath hitched as Liam’s lips found his neck, biting and sucking just hard enough to leave marks that would linger for days. The steam enveloped them in a thick, heated haze as Liam pressed Jayden firmly against the cool shower tiles, his hands exploring the slick, wet contours of Jayden's body. The dominance in Liam’s touch was unmistakable, but Jayden’s sharp gaze suddenly flickered with something playful, almost defiant.

Before Liam could react, Jayden turned the tables with a swift movement, pinning Liam against the wall with surprising strength. The shock on Liam’s face quickly morphed into a challenging smirk.
“My turn,” Jayden murmured, his voice low and commanding, a stark contrast to his usual gentleness.
Liam raised an eyebrow, his breath hitching slightly at the shift in power. “Think you’ve got what it takes?”
Jayden’s chuckle was dark, full of promise. “Oh, I’m more than ready.”
The electricity between them was palpable, and Liam—always the one in control—found himself willingly surrendering to Jayden’s assertiveness. Jayden leaned in, capturing Liam’s lips in a deep, possessive kiss, his hands sliding down Liam’s sides and resting firmly on his hips.

As the kiss deepened, Jayden’s hands roamed lower, his fingers teasing Liam’s inner thighs before brushing over sensitive skin. Liam groaned, his forehead falling against Jayden’s shoulder as a shiver ran through him.
“Relax,” Jayden whispered against Liam’s ear, his voice smooth but firm. “I want to take care of you.”
Liam’s muscles tensed briefly but quickly softened under Jayden’s careful touch. Jayden sank to his knees, his hands sliding over Liam’s thighs, spreading him just enough. With deliberate slowness, his lips and tongue began exploring, the heat of his mouth leaving Liam trembling. Jayden’s tongue moved with precision, teasing and soothing in equal measure.
“Jay…” Liam’s voice cracked, his hands gripping the tiles for stability.

Jayden didn’t respond with words—only a satisfied hum as he worked, his fingers soon joining the effort. They moved in slow, deliberate circles, coaxing Liam to relax completely. The sensation was almost overwhelming, and Liam’s breathing grew ragged as Jayden expertly prepared him, ensuring he was ready for what was to come.
When Jayden finally stood, his lips glistened, and his dark eyes were heavy with desire. Liam’s chest rose and fell rapidly, his body pliant under Jayden’s steady hands.
“You’re perfect like this,” Jayden murmured, brushing a kiss along Liam’s jaw. “Completely mine.”
Liam’s smirk was weak, his voice low and breathless. “Then stop teasing and show me.”

Jayden didn’t need to be told twice. He positioned himself carefully, one hand gripping Liam’s hip while the other guided them together. The first slow push made Liam hiss, his hands clenching into fists against the wall. Jayden paused, kissing the back of Liam’s neck softly, letting him adjust before continuing.
“Breathe,” Jayden murmured, his voice a soothing contrast to the intensity of his movements.
Liam exhaled deeply, his body relaxing as Jayden’s rhythm grew more deliberate, more demanding. Each thrust was precise, pushing Liam further into the tiles, the sound of skin against skin mixing with the steady cascade of water.
“Harder,” Liam growled, his voice rough with need.

Jayden complied without hesitation, his hands tightening on Liam’s hips as he drove into him with renewed fervor. The dominance in his movements was undeniable, each thrust claiming Liam in a way that left them both gasping.
“You’re so damn stubborn,” Jayden muttered, his voice low and breathless. “But look at you now.”
Liam could only groan in response, his forehead pressed against the cool tiles as his body surrendered completely. Every nerve in his body was alight, the sensations building until they became almost unbearable.
When release finally overtook him, it was like a tidal wave, leaving him shaking and boneless in Jayden’s arms. Jayden followed moments later, his grip on Liam’s hips tightening as he buried himself one final time, his own climax leaving him trembling.

They stood under the spray of the shower for a moment, their bodies still entwined as they caught their breath. Jayden was the first to break the silence, pressing a soft kiss to Liam’s shoulder.
“You okay?” he asked, his voice tinged with concern despite the smug smile on his face.
Liam turned slightly, his smirk returning. “I think you’re getting too good at this.”
Jayden laughed, the sound warm and carefree as he pulled Liam into a gentle kiss. “Just making up for lost time.”

Chapter Text

As Enya walked into the house an hour later with Gremlin in tow after her therapy session, the sweet, earthy smell of weed hit her like a wall. She paused, inhaling deeply, and shook her head with a small smile.
She found Jayden and Liam in the living room, locked in a loud, animated battle of Mortal Kombat. Liam was hunched forward, his face twisted in concentration, while Jayden looked far too relaxed, smirking as his fingers danced over the controller.
“I'm back!” she called, unhooking Gremlin’s leash and slipping off her jacket and shoes.

The little dog wasted no time, padding into the living room to greet the men. Moments later, she heard Liam, his voice high-pitched and unmistakably stoned, speaking to Gremlin in a comically exaggerated baby voice.
“‘Ello, you sweet little fluff ball. Your fur’s so soft, I could eat ya right up!”
“Forget it, Liam!” Enya called from the hallway. “You’d just give yourself indigestion. Besides, I was planning to cook anyway.”
Liam’s eyes widened in mock horror, his arms wrapping protectively around Gremlin. “Not him, I hope? Poor thing don’t deserve that!”
Enya let out a loud laugh as she entered the room, collapsing onto the couch beside Jayden. “Of course not. As if I’d eat my favorite emotional support dog. I was thinking Spaghetti Bolognese.”
Liam let out an exaggerated sigh of relief. “Good, ‘cause I dunno if I could forgive ya for somethin’ like that.”
Jayden chuckled, briefly glancing at her before returning his focus to the game. “Spaghetti sounds better than dog, I’ll give you that.”

Enya smiled, scratching behind Gremlin’s ears as the dog nestled beside her. “Are you two seriously playing Mortal Kombat again? I thought you were working on music today.”
Jayden smirked, his fingers still moving deftly on the controller. “We were—until someone—” he nodded at Liam, “—started trash-talking my gaming skills. Had to teach him a lesson.”
Liam scoffed, his Cockney accent even more pronounced. “Oi, don’t put this on me, mate! You’re the one button-mashin’ like a bleedin’ amateur. Proper disgraceful, that.”
“Disgraceful is forgetting how to block,” Jayden retorted, landing a devastating combo that made Liam groan.
“Bloody ‘ell! Enya, love, tell this git to give me a break.”
Enya leaned back with a sly smile. “Why would I do that? Watching him destroy you is more fun.”
Liam turned to her, giving her a betrayed look. “Traitor.”
Still chuckling, Enya watched as the two dove back into their game, their banter filling the room. For a moment, everything felt lighthearted, easy—like the dark clouds hanging over them were finally lifting, if only just a little.

Jayden paused the game as Enya casually put her feet on the coffee table, ruffling Gremlin’s ears affectionately. “How was your therapy, love? Make any big breakthroughs?” he asked, his voice warm.
Enya smiled, her cheeks slightly pink with pride. “Actually, yeah! Dr. Hayes said I’ve been making really good progress. We talked about boundaries and staying grounded. I feel... lighter, like I’m finally moving forward.”
Jayden squeezed her hand gently, a proud smile spreading across his face. “That’s brilliant, Enya. You’re smashing it.”
Liam, still fiddling with the controller, glanced over and gave her a lopsided grin. “Good for you, Enya. Ain’t easy, that.”

Enya returned the smile before turning her attention to him. “What about you, Liam? How was your session?”
Liam shifted uncomfortably, the tips of his ears going red. “Was alright,” he said with a shrug, keeping his tone casual. “I think... it’s helpin’ a bit. Feels like I’ve got less... weight on me.”
“That’s great!” Enya said encouragingly. “Did you talk about anything specific or—?”
“Nothin’ major,” Liam interrupted quickly. “Just stuff. You know.”
Jayden, leaning back with an amused smirk, nudged Liam with his elbow. “Oh, come on, mate. Whatever it was, it must’ve been intense, considering what you did when you got home.”
Liam groaned, shooting him a glare. “Don’t.”

Enya looked between them, her brow furrowing in curiosity. “Wait, what did he do?”
Jayden’s grin widened as he leaned toward her conspiratorially. “He came home, shoved me onto this couch, and absolutely wrecked me.”
Enya blinked, her mouth opening in shock before a laugh bubbled out. “Oh my God, really?”
“Oh, absolutely,” Jayden continued shamelessly, clearly enjoying Liam’s embarrassment. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen him so... motivated. And when he was done, I decided to return the favor. We took it to the shower for round two.”
“Jayden!” Liam groaned.
Enya was practically in tears with laughter, clutching her sides. “You two are unbelievable! Poor me missed all the excitement.”
“Yeah, well, that’s probably for the best,” Liam muttered, his ears still burning. "You would have been terribly jealous."
Enya smirked, wiping her eyes. “I probably would’ve sat next to you and taken care of myself.”

Enya snuggled closer to Jayden. “Speaking of which, is that a post-sex joint to relax? Or since when have you been smoking weed in the middle of the week? ”
Liam shook his head, a more serious expression crossing his face. “Actually, no. This one’s a bit of a farewell joint.”
Enya tilted her head. “What do you mean?” Liam exhaled, rubbing the back of his neck. “My therapist prescribed me some meds. Said they won’t mix well with weed or booze, so... guess I’m done with all that for now.”
Jayden raised an eyebrow, impressed. “That’s a big step, mate. You sure you’re ready for it?” Liam shrugged, his expression softening. “Don’t really have much of a choice, do I? Can’t keep livin’ the way I have been. And if this helps, then... yeah, I’m ready.”
Enya reached over and squeezed his hand. “We’re proud of you, Liam. Really.” Liam glanced between them, a small smile tugging at his lips. “Cheers. Means a lot.”
The room settled into a comfortable silence, the weight of the moment hanging between them as the warmth of their friendship filled the space.

A while later Enya stood in the kitchen and hummed softly to herself as she chopped garlic and onions. The sharpness of the onions made her eyes sting slightly, but the familiar smell of the sizzling ingredients in the pan was comforting. She added the ground meat, which began to sizzle and pop, breaking it apart with a wooden spoon.
Suddenly, two warm arms wrapped around her waist, and she felt the weight of a familiar chin rest on her shoulder. “Hey, love,” Jayden murmured softly, his breath grazing her skin.
Enya giggled but leaned back slightly into his touch. “Haven’t you had enough intimacy for one day?” she teased while continuing to stir the meat.
Jayden grinned, his lips brushing against the curve of her neck as he pressed a gentle kiss there. “Never when it’s with you,” he whispered, his voice low and velvety.

Enya let out a soft sigh, a pleasant shiver running through her, but she forced herself to focus on the pan in front of her. “I’m trying to cook,” she murmured, her voice wavering slightly.
“And I’m trying to show you how sexy you look while doing it,” Jayden replied, his hands sliding over her waist, one of them starting to drift lower.
“Jay…” Enya began, but her words faltered when his hand slipped beneath the waistband of her pants. Her knees nearly buckled as his fingers found her and began teasing her with slow, deliberate motions.
“Just focus on cooking, love,” Jayden teased, his voice a warm whisper against her ear. “Pretend I’m not even here.”
Enya bit her lip, her hands trembling slightly as she tried to keep stirring the meat. But every time his fingers pressed just right, a soft gasp escaped her lips. “Jay, I… the food…”
“It’ll taste better when it’s made with love,” he murmured playfully, his movements unwavering.

Her breathing grew heavier, and she had to set the spoon down, bracing herself against the counter. “You’re impossible,” she managed to say, though the tremor in her voice betrayed how much she was enjoying his touch.
“And you’re beautiful,” Jayden said softly, his lips trailing warm kisses along her neck as his skilled fingers continued to drive her to distraction.
Enya tried desperately to gather her thoughts, but Jayden’s fingers were unrelenting, each movement sending ripples of pleasure through her body. Her hands gripped the edge of the counter tightly as she struggled to focus on the pan in front of her.
“Jay,” she breathed, her voice shaky. “I need to stir the sauce…”
“You’re doing fine,” Jayden murmured against her ear, his lips brushing the sensitive skin there. “Just focus, love. You’re multitasking beautifully.”

She let out a shaky laugh, though it quickly turned into a soft moan as his fingers pressed deeper, finding that perfect rhythm that made her legs tremble. Enya’s free hand shakily reached for the wooden spoon, her movements unsteady as she gave the sauce a half-hearted stir. The rich aroma of garlic, onions, and simmering meat filled the air, mingling with the heat that Jayden’s touch ignited within her.
“Do you have any idea how good you feel right now?” Jayden murmured, his lips now trailing kisses down the curve of her neck. His other hand slid up her torso, slipping beneath her shirt to gently caress her stomach, his touch sending shivers across her skin.
Enya’s head tipped back slightly, resting against his shoulder as her breathing grew heavier. “Jayden, if you don’t stop… we’re going to burn dinner,” she managed to whisper, though her words lacked conviction.
He chuckled softly, his breath warm against her skin. “I think it’s worth the risk,” he replied, his voice low and teasing.

Enya couldn’t help but smile, even as she bit her lip to stifle another moan. Her hips instinctively pressed back against him, her body betraying her need. Jayden groaned softly at her response, his hand on her stomach pulling her closer against him.
“You drive me crazy, you know that?” he whispered, his voice thick with desire.
“God, I hate you,” she replied, her voice breathless.
With a trembling hand, Enya reached for the seasoning jar, trying to salvage her focus. She sprinkled in some herbs, though the measurements were far from precise, and gave the sauce another weak stir. “I’m trying to cook…” she repeated, though her voice wavered as Jayden’s fingers sent another wave of pleasure coursing through her.
“And I’m trying to show you how much I love you,” Jayden countered, his lips finding her jawline.
The wooden spoon slipped from her hand, clattering onto the stovetop as she let out a soft gasp. “Jayden!” she scolded half-heartedly, though the flush of her cheeks and the way her body leaned into his touch betrayed her lack of resistance.

Jayden’s fingers quickened their pace, his skilled movements driving Enya closer and closer to the edge. Her body tensed against him, her breaths coming in short, ragged gasps as the tension inside her built to a breaking point.
“Jay,” she moaned softly, her grip on the counter tightening as she surrendered to the pleasure that washed over her. A final, desperate cry escaped her lips as her release overtook her, her body trembling against him.
Jayden held her close, letting her ride the waves of her orgasm as his lips pressed gentle kisses along her neck. When her breathing finally began to steady, he withdrew his hand slowly, his touch lingering.
Enya leaned forward, bracing herself against the counter as she let out a shaky laugh. “You’re a menace, you know that?” she teased, her voice still breathless.

Jayden chuckled softly, bringing his fingers to his lips. “And you taste just as good as ever,” he said shamelessly, licking his fingers clean with a smirk.
Enya turned to glare playfully at him, but her amusement quickly turned to embarrassment as her eyes landed on Liam, who was sitting casually at the kitchen table, his arms crossed and a sly grin on his face.
“How long have you been sitting there?” she asked, her cheeks flushing a deep red.
“Long enough,” Liam replied with a mischievous smirk.
Jayden didn’t seem fazed in the slightest, instead shooting Liam a grin. “Enjoy the show?” he asked, his tone dripping with humor.
Liam shrugged, leaning back in his chair. “Could’ve done with a bit more action, but I’d give it an 8 outta 10,” he quipped, winking at Enya.

Enya groaned, covering her face with her hands. “You two are impossible,” she muttered, though the corners of her mouth twitched with a reluctant smile.
Deciding it was best to ignore them both, she turned her attention back to the stovetop, determined to focus on her cooking. Behind her, Jayden gave Liam a nudge. “Come on, let’s give her some space before she burns the sauce,” he said, leading Liam out of the kitchen.
As the two men headed back to the living room, Liam glanced at Jayden. “Another round of Mortal Kombat?”
Jayden smirked. “You’re on. But don’t think I’m going easy on you this time.”
Their laughter echoed through the apartment as Enya shook her head, finally able to concentrate fully on dinner.

Chapter Text

When Liam woke up, two things immediately caught his attention.
The first was the unmistakable sound of passionate moans drifting through the apartment—most likely coming from the kitchen. He groaned and ran a hand through his messy hair, rolling onto his back with a sigh.
"For fuck's sake," he thought, mildly irritated. "Again?"
It wasn't like he was oblivious to the fact that Enya and Jayden had their moments, but Jay's enthusiasm over the past few days had gone far beyond his usual patterns. And considering that Jay wasn’t just sleeping with Enya, but also with Liam himself, it was almost baffling how insatiable he seemed.
Liam couldn’t help but admire the man’s sheer stamina.

Then, he noticed the second thing.
Squinting at the window, he realized that daylight was already pouring in through the curtains. His brows furrowed. He had slept longer than expected—unusually long, in fact.

The night before, he had taken the pills Dr. Carter had prescribed for the first time.
Reading through the list of possible side effects had made his eyes widen: headaches, nausea, dizziness, insomnia, sleepwalking—the list went on and on. For a brief moment, he had considered tossing the bottle straight into the bin.
But Enya had reassured him, explaining that pharmaceutical companies were required to list every potential reaction, no matter how rare. Most of them hardly ever occurred, and if he did experience any issues, he could always discuss them with his doctor.

Now, as Liam lay in bed, stretching his limbs with a satisfied groan, he had to admit—she was right. He felt more rested and refreshed than he had in ages. No nightmares jerking him awake, drenched in sweat. No endless tossing and turning, desperately trying to chase sleep.
It felt like before. Like things were... normal again.
Liam glanced out the window again, surprised to hear a bird chirping somewhere nearby—an unusual sound in the heart of London. But instead of questioning it, he simply smiled. In this moment, life felt perfect.

Stretching lazily, he pulled on some baggy clothes and shuffled toward the kitchen.
"Time to stir things up a little," he thought with a smirk.
However, when he entered the kitchen, he was met with disappointment. Enya and Jayden had clearly just finished, hurriedly adjusting their disheveled clothing.
"Bloody hell," Liam drawled, grabbing a bottle of water from the fridge. "Are you two tryin’ to break some kind o’ world record, or are ya just completely obsessed?"
Enya laughed, waving him off. "Not ‘we.’ Just him." She pointed at Jayden. "He’s like a rutting animal. I have no idea what’s gotten into him."

Jayden growled playfully, trailing kisses and licks along Enya’s neck. "Oh, I am obsessed," he murmured, hands sliding under her freshly put-on shirt. "I’m addicted to you."
Enya let out a surprised squeak, giggling as she pushed his hands away. "Stop it, you maniac! I have to go to work! And thanks to you, I didn’t even get to have breakfast because you pounced on me like a damn animal." She pouted at him.
"Oh, honey," Jayden crooned in a deep, sultry voice, "I’ll make it up to you. I’ll cook you something delicious when you get home, alright?" He sealed the promise with a kiss.
"You better," she warned, grinning as she pulled away. Then she turned to Liam. "By the way, how did you sleep? I didn’t hear you screaming this morning."

Liam, who had just sat down at the table and was sipping his water, flushed slightly. His nightmares—and the violent way he usually woke from them—had become such a regular occurrence that the absence of them was noticeable. He still hated that.
"I actually slept amazing. No nightmares," he announced, a hint of enthusiasm creeping into his voice. "I feel more rested than I have in ages."
Enya clapped her hands together excitedly. "That’s incredible! I’m so happy for you! You should go out and celebrate with the guys tonight."
Liam raised a brow. "Celebrate? Why?"
"Celebrate, chill, whatever," she said casually. "Just keep Jayden away from me for a few hours, okay?"
Jayden gave her an exaggerated shove. "Oi! What’s that supposed to mean?"

With a dramatic sigh, Enya took Liam’s hands in hers and pleaded, "Please, Liam. My poor punani desperately needs a break. Take Jay and go hang out with Michael and Danny, yeah?"
Liam let out a theatrical sigh of his own. "Then this noble knight shall rescue the not-so-maidenly damsel from the wicked, sex-crazed dragon by dragging him off for a pint or two at Michael’s."
Beaming, Enya threw her arms around his neck and planted a light kiss on his lips. "You’re my hero of the day!"
Then she stood up, grabbing her bag. "Alright, I really have to go now. Jayden, that food better be ready when I get home!"
Jayden gave her an overly formal bow. "Your wish is my command, milady," he declared in a mock aristocratic tone.

As soon as the door closed behind Enya, Jayden leaned against the kitchen counter, crossing his arms with an amused smirk. "You really gave her a hard time, mate," Liam teased, nodding toward the door.
Jayden rolled his eyes and gasped exaggeratedly "Oh, fuck off. She can handle that." he muttered, though a faint smirk played on his lips.
Jayden chuckled as he grabbed a mug from the cupboard and poured himself a coffee. He took a sip before settling down across from Liam at the table. "So," he started casually, but his tone softened. "You really slept that well?"

Liam exhaled through his nose, leaning back in his chair. "Yeah," he admitted. "Like, really well. No nightmares. No tossing and turning. Just… sleep." He stared down at the table for a moment, then scoffed. "It’s weird."
Jayden raised a brow. "Weird how?"
Liam shifted in his seat, rubbing the back of his neck. "I dunno. I can’t remember the last time I felt this rested. Feels… unnatural." His fingers tapped against the tabletop. "Like, am I actually getting better, or is this just the pills fucking with my brain?"
Jayden studied him for a moment before placing his mug down. "Mate, that’s what they’re supposed to do," he said gently. "Help you. It’s not cheating. It’s not ‘unnatural.’ It’s just… giving you a fighting chance."

Liam scoffed again, though there wasn’t much conviction behind it. "Yeah, but what if I start relying on them too much? What if I can’t sleep without them anymore?"
Jayden leaned forward, resting his forearms on the table. "Then you work through it. You adjust. And when you don’t need them anymore, you stop." He shrugged. "It’s not a life sentence, mate. It’s just a tool."
Liam frowned, looking down at his hands. "I just don’t like feeling like I need something to function," he admitted.
Jayden tilted his head slightly, a knowing look in his eyes. "Yeah? Well, I used to feel the same way," he said. "Had some bad shit with panic attacks a few years back. Thought I could just ‘tough it out.’ Spoiler alert: I couldn’t."
Liam looked up at him, surprised. "You?"

Jayden smirked faintly. "Yeah, me. Mr. Cool and Collected, right?" He shook his head. "Took meds for a while. Had therapy. And eventually, I figured my shit out. Point is—there’s no shame in it."
Liam exhaled, running a hand through his hair. "Shit," he muttered.
Jayden reached over and gave his arm a firm pat. "You’re doing great, mate. And if you ever feel like you’re not—just fucking tell me."
Liam huffed out a small laugh, shaking his head. "Yeah, yeah," he muttered. But despite himself, a small weight seemed to lift from his shoulders.

Liam exhaled sharply, ruffling his hair as if trying to shake off the weight of the conversation. “Alright, enough of this serious shit,” he muttered. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table and smirking. “So, about Enya’s request… Looks like you and I are spending the evening with Michael.”
Jayden chuckled, leaning back in his chair. “Oh yeah? You mean the part where she basically begged you to take me off her hands?”
Liam grinned. “I believe her exact words were that her ‘punani needs a break’ from your insatiable ass.”

Jayden barked out a laugh, shaking his head. “Unbelievable. I give that woman the best orgasms of her life, and this is the thanks I get?” He pressed a dramatic hand to his chest. “Truly, there is no justice in this world.”
Liam snorted. “Yeah, yeah, you’re a real martyr.” He tilted his head. “But seriously, you down? Could be nice to hang out, have a few drinks, maybe kick Michael’s ass in Mortal Kombat.”
Jayden smirked. “You say that like you’ve ever beaten him.”
Liam scoffed. “Oi, I have! … Once.”
Jayden’s smirk widened. “Out of how many rounds?”
Liam waved a dismissive hand. “Irrelevant. The point is, I won. And tonight, I’ll do it again.”
Jayden hummed, taking another sip of his coffee. “Fine. But if we’re doing this, I’m making dinner first. Enya will have my head if she comes home and there’s no food on the table.”
Liam smirked. “So whipped.”
Jayden shrugged, unfazed. “Happily.” He stood up and stretched. “Alright, mate, let’s get this day started. We’ve got some serious ass-kicking to prepare for.”
Liam grinned. “Damn right.”

Chapter Text

The basement air was thick with heat, the scent of sweat and arousal clinging to the stone walls. Lexy was pressed against the old, creaky workbench, her nails digging into Michael’s back as he moved inside her with slow, deep thrusts. His forehead rested against hers, their breaths mingling in the dimly lit space, every ragged moan swallowed by the thick underground silence.
“Fuck, Trouble,” Michael groaned against her lips, his fingers gripping her thighs tighter as he pulled her closer, deeper. “You feel so good.”
Lexy let out a shuddering breath, her body trembling with pleasure. “You’re—” she gasped as he hit just the right spot, “—so fucking deep.”
Michael grinned against her skin, trailing wet, open-mouthed kisses down her neck before biting down lightly on her collarbone. “Damn right, I am.”
The world outside didn’t exist. Nothing mattered except the slick, delicious friction between them, the way their bodies fit together so perfectly.
Then the doorbell rang.

Michael stilled. Lexy groaned in frustration, her nails raking down his back. “Ignore it,” she panted, rolling her hips to coax him back into motion.
A voice—Daniel’s—echoed from upstairs. “Lex, Michael! One of you should get the door!”
Michael let out a breathy chuckle against her skin. “No fucking way I’m stopping now.”
Lexy smirked, tightening her legs around his waist. “Didn’t think you would.”
Michael thrust back into her, and Lexy bit down on his shoulder to muffle the moan that threatened to escape.

A faint thud sounded from the stairs, then Daniel’s voice again—fainter this time, as he moved toward the door. “Never mind, I got it.”
Lexy grinned wickedly, pulling Michael into a desperate kiss. “Good,” she whispered against his lips. “Now fuck me like you mean it.”
And he did.

Daniel opened the door, stepping aside to let Jayden and Liam in. “About time, lads,” he greeted them with a smirk, ushering them inside.
“Traffic was a bitch,” Jayden muttered, shaking off his jacket.
Liam, looking around, noted, “Smells good in here. You actually cooked, or did you order in?”
Daniel scoffed, already heading toward the kitchen. “What do you take me for? I slaved away for this, mate.” He rolled his eyes but grinned. “Get comfy, I’ll grab you something to drink.”

As he passed the basement door, he hesitated just a second before knocking twice—sharp and deliberate. Then, in a voice just loud enough to carry downward, he said, “Oi, just so you know—Jay and Liam are here.”
Downstairs, the words sliced through the heavy air.
Michael, braced over Lexy, froze mid-thrust. “For fuck’s sake,” he muttered through clenched teeth, frustration tightening his grip on her hips. “That’s really fucking inconvenient.”
Lexy, flushed and breathless beneath him, didn’t share his sentiment. Instead, a slow, wicked smile curved her lips. “Then you better hurry up,” she teased, voice sultry, “because I really wanna see you lose it.”

Michael exhaled a ragged breath, cursing under it. He was already on edge, and her words pushed him closer. “You’re fuckin’ evil, Trouble.”
Lexy merely grinned up at him, deliberately tightening around him, her body drawing him deeper, milking every reaction out of him. His jaw clenched, his hands gripping her thighs as his rhythm grew almost punishing.
“Jesus, Lex—”
His control slipped, his movements turning desperate as she watched him with hooded eyes, devouring every twitch of pleasure contorting his face. Her muscles fluttered around him, coaxing him further until he finally gave in, a strangled groan ripping from his throat as he came hard inside her.

For a moment, he just hovered there, forehead pressed to hers, breath hot and uneven. Then he swore under his breath again. “You’re a fucking menace.”
Lexy hummed, tracing lazy fingers down his sweat-slicked back. “Yeah,” she murmured, “but you love it.”
Michael groaned, shifting off of her, leaning on the workbench as he tried to steady his breathing. “Still fuckin’ inconvenient,” he mumbled.
Lexy laughed softly, utterly satisfied—not by release, but by the sheer power she had over him.
“Better get dressed,” she whispered against his ear, mischief lacing her voice. “Wouldn’t want Liam walking in, would we?”

Michael reluctantly pulled away from Lexy, quickly disposing of the condom and adjusting his clothes. As he zipped up his jeans, Lexy was already heading toward the stairs. But just as she reached the first step, she felt a hand wrap around her wrist.
“What—?” She turned around, only to be suddenly pushed back against the wall.
Michael was on her in an instant, his lips crashing against hers in a deep, hungry kiss that made her knees weak. His hands gripped her hips firmly, his heartbeat pounding against her chest.
When he finally pulled back, he rested his forehead against hers for a brief moment. “Lex…” His voice was husky, barely above a whisper. “One day, I hope you'll finally let yourself go with me again.”

Lexy froze. Her eyes widened as she stared at him, completely caught off guard. Did he mean that? Or was this just the heat of the moment talking? She opened her mouth to say something, but Michael suddenly smirked and winked at her, as if it had been nothing more than a casual remark.
Then he turned and walked up the stairs, his movements unhurried, completely at ease.
A few seconds later, she heard him crack a joke upstairs, followed by a chorus of laughter. Everything seemed normal. As if nothing had just happened.
But inside Lexy, a storm was brewing.
Was this really just casual sex? Or had something more been building all along?
She took a deep breath, shook her head slightly, and finally followed him upstairs—still feeling a strange, uneasy flutter in her stomach.

Lexy sat with the guys, a beer in her hand, but somehow, she felt out of place. Normally, she enjoyed their banter, but tonight, something just felt… off. She turned the bottle in her hands, still stuck on what Michael had whispered to her in the basement.
Michael was the first to notice. He nudged her with his shoulder. “You good, Trouble?”
Lexy shrugged. “Yeah, sure.”
Michael scoffed. “Yeah, sure. That’s the kinda answer women give when they want you to figure out why they’re pissed off.”
Daniel smirked. “Fuck me, she’s about to hit us with a ‘nothing’s wrong’ and then mentally bury us alive.”
Jayden leaned back, eyeing her. “Maybe she’s just mad she ain’t getting dicked down right now.”
Michael snorted. “Oh, she is. Trust me.”

Lexy shot him a warning glare, but the corner of his lips curled in amusement.
Liam, who had been relatively quiet, smirked. “Well, if you’re so sick of our toxic masculinity, why don’t you call Enya? She wanted to get rid of Jay anyway, so her poor punani could finally get a break.”
Jayden grabbed a coaster and chucked it at him. “You absolute twat.”
Liam dodged effortlessly, grinning. “What? That’s literally what she said.”
Lexy shook her head but couldn’t hide her smirk. “Y’know what? That’s actually not a bad idea.” She pulled out her phone. “Let’s see if she’s up for a girls’ night.”

Lexy dialed Enya’s number, rolling her eyes at the raucous laughter from the living room. It barely rang twice before Enya picked up.
“Well, well,” Enya greeted teasingly. “Did the boys already scare you off?”
Lexy smirked. “Let’s just say I heard from someone that your punani needed a break. Also, I’d rather not spend my evening listening to a bunch of grown men engage in an unspoken dick-measuring contest. Can I come over?”
From the living room came a chorus of offended groans, followed by a loud “Oi, fuck off, Lex!” and what sounded like an exaggerated slap on bare skin.

Enya burst into laughter. “Oh my god, yes! That’s a fantastic idea. Get over here.” Then she paused. “Wait—bring pizza. No girls’ night is complete without pizza.”
Lexy chuckled. “Consider it done. Be there soon.”
She hung up, shaking her head as the boys continued their testosterone-fueled antics. This was already shaping up to be an interesting night.

Lexy put on her jacket, shoved the car keys in her pocket and took one last look in the mirror before turning to the boys. "Alright, boys. Try not to be complete idiots while I'm gone."
Michael put a hand on his heart. "Lexy, please. We are the very definition of class and sophistication."
Liam burst out laughing while Lexy just rolled her eyes. "Sure. And I'm the fucking Virgin Mary."
Jayden, who was sitting casually on the couch, grinned mischievously. "Well, if that's the case, then I guess I've performed my fair share of immaculate conceptions."
Lexy paused in mid-motion, slowly turned around and folded her arms. Her eyes sparkled challengingly. "Oh, babe, you of all people should know I'm anything but immaculate."

Michael and Daniel laughed at her confident tone, while Liam just raised an eyebrow. "The fuck does that mean?" Lexy winked at Jayden before giving Liam a pat on the back of the head. "Nothing you need to worry your pretty little head about, sunshine."
"Oi!" Liam complained, while Lexy marched out the door with a big grin. Jayden shook his head with a grin as he sipped from his beer bottle. Michael looked at him suspiciously. "Mate... why do I feel like I don't wanna know what that was about?"
Jayden shrugged innocently. "Probably better that way."

Daniel grabbed the controllers and tossed one to Jayden, who caught it with ease. "Alright, let's make this interesting," he said, cracking his knuckles. "Mortal Kombat tournament. Loser takes a shot."
Liam, who had just taken a sip of water, nearly choked. He coughed and waved a hand. "Yeah, not happening, mate. Can't mix booze with my meds unless you want me passed out on your couch."
Michael, already setting up the console, grinned at him. "Alright, alright. No shots for you. But you’re not getting off that easy. If you lose, you do push-ups. Five for every match."
Liam scoffed. "Five? That’s nothing." Daniel smirked. "Then let's make it ten."
Jayden laughed. "Careful, mate. At this rate, you'll be jacked by the end of the night."

Liam rolled his eyes but nodded. "Fine. Ten push-ups per loss. And when I kick all your arses, I expect you lot to be absolutely wasted."
Michael chuckled as he scrolled through the character selection screen. "Big words, Threezy . Let’s see if you can back 'em up."
The tournament kicked off with Daniel versus Michael, and as expected, it was brutal. Michael was a button-mashing menace, while Daniel played with precision. The result? Michael lost. Badly.
Michael groaned and reached for a shot. "Bollocks." He downed it quickly and shook his head. "Alright, who's next?"

Jayden took the next match against Liam. The atmosphere turned competitive fast, with the others yelling encouragement (or insults) from the sidelines. Liam put up a fight, but Jayden’s years of experience (and his knack for reading opponents) had him pinned. Within minutes, Liam’s character was lying in a pool of digital blood.
Jayden dropped his controller and smirked. "Alright, mate. Give me ten."
Liam groaned but got down on the floor. "You lot are gonna regret this when my arms are bigger than yours."
Michael laughed. "We’ll believe it when we see it."

As the night went on, controllers were slammed, curses were thrown, and shots were poured. Liam, despite his initial confidence, found himself racking up more push-ups than he anticipated. But strangely enough, he didn’t mind. For the first time in a long time, he felt... normal. Just hanging out, talking shit, and playing games. No worries, no nightmares. Just a proper lads' night.
And for now, that was enough.

Michael leaned back on the couch, grinning lazily as he spun his controller in his hands. His cheeks were a little flushed from the shots he had taken, and his movements were just a fraction slower than before. "Alright, Threelicious," he slurred playfully. "Time to see if those push-ups actually do you any good."
Liam smirked, cracking his knuckles. "Mate, you’re already half-pissed. This is gonna be easy."
Daniel leaned forward, grinning. "Oh, I dunno. Drunk Michael might be a menace. His brain shuts off, and suddenly, he’s pulling off combos even he doesn’t understand."
Jayden laughed. "Yeah, it’s like his hands know more than his head does." Michael squinted at them, then pointed a lazy finger at Liam. "You’re scared. I can smell it."
Liam scoffed. "The only thing I smell is your breath. When’s the last time you had a mint?"
"Shut up and pick your fighter," Michael muttered, flicking through the character selection screen.

The match began, and from the start, Liam had the upper hand. Michael’s reactions were just a little too sluggish, his blocks a second too late. Still, he managed to get in a few good hits, which only fueled his confidence.
"Ooooh, that’s right," he cackled as he landed a solid combo. "Drunk Michael is still a fuckin’ legend!"
Liam, unimpressed, waited for an opening and then unleashed an absolutely brutal counterattack. Within seconds, Michael’s character was flailing, caught in a merciless onslaught.
"Legend, my arse," Liam snorted. "You’re gettin’ wrecked."
Jayden and Daniel were howling with laughter as Michael tried to recover, mashing buttons furiously. "You bloody bastard!" he yelled, but it was too late. With a final crushing blow, Liam won the round.
"BOOM!" Liam threw his arms up in victory. "That’s ten for you, mate."

Michael groaned, dramatically falling back against the couch. "Noooo. I can’t. I’m too tipsy for this."
Daniel grinned. "Rules are rules, mate. Ten push-ups. Or another shot, your choice."
Michael let out an exaggerated sigh, then slid off the couch onto the floor. "Alright, fine. But if I puke, I’m aiming for Liam’s shoes."
"Joke’s on you," Liam shot back. "These are Jayden’s."
Jayden looked down at his feet, then at Liam, then at Michael. "If you even think about it, I’m gonna make you do twenty."

Michael groaned but started his push-ups, much to the delight of the others.
"One!" Daniel counted loudly.
"Two!" Jayden joined in.
Michael glared up at them. "I swear to fuck, you two—"
"Three!"
Their laughter filled the room as Michael powered through the rest, cursing them all to hell and back.

Michael groaned, shook out his arms, and dropped to the floor. “Ten fucking push-ups… I’m a drummer, not a goddamn Navy SEAL.”
Liam smirked. “Come on, old man, no excuses.”
Jayden leaned forward, his grin devilish. “I bet you can’t do the last two one-handed.”
Michael blinked at him, narrowing his eyes. “Fuck you, I can do anything one-handed.”
Daniel burst out laughing. “Mate, I really don’t wanna know what you do in your free time.”
Michael didn’t back down. He pushed himself up, managing one shaky one-handed push-up. The second was more of a struggle, but he somehow pulled it off before collapsing onto his back with a triumphant, “Ha!”

“Shit, I’m too old for this,” he muttered, staring at the ceiling. “I need a fucking massage.”
Jayden took a sip of his drink, smirking down at him. “Why don’t you ask your secret affair? Maybe she’ll take pity on you.”
Michael lazily lifted a hand and flipped him off without even looking. “I’ll ask your mum.”
Laughter filled the room, but as it started to die down, Liam glanced at Jayden, noticing how his usual easy smirk had faded. His friend was staring into his glass, absently running a thumb along the rim.
Liam raised an eyebrow. “Oi, Jay, you alright?”
Jayden blinked, seemingly snapping back to the present. “Yeah, yeah… just thinking.”
Daniel took a sip of his beer and leaned forward. “About what?”
Liam studied Jayden for a moment before tilting his head. “Lemme guess… all your recent sexual escapades have something to do with what happened during the house tour, don’t they?”

Michael and Daniel both looked confused. “The fuck are you on about?” Michael asked, sitting up straighter.
Jayden waved a hand dismissively, forcing a smirk. “Nothing, it’s just Liam running his mouth again.”
Unfortunately for him, Liam had no intention of letting it go. “Oh, you mean how you randomly brought up kids? Yeah, ‘cause that’s totally normal.”
Michael nearly choked on his drink, while Daniel groaned loudly. “Fucking hell, mate.” He rubbed his face with both hands before shooting Jayden a pointed look. “Are you actually trying to knock Enya up, or did you just completely lose your mind?”

Michael scoffed. “Well, that would explain why he’s been shagging like a man possessed.”
Jayden groaned and sank deeper into the couch, muttering, “I hate you all.”
Michael, still slightly tipsy but sharp as ever, narrowed his eyes at him. “So? You tryin’ to knock her up or what?”
Jayden sat up straighter, shaking his head. “No! It’s not like that.”
Daniel crossed his arms. “Then what is it like?”
Jayden opened his mouth, but nothing came out. He shut it again, exhaling slowly. “I… I don’t know.”
Michael leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “That’s not like you, mate. You always know exactly what you’re doing.”
Liam studied him carefully. “You really have no idea where this is coming from?”

Jayden ran a hand through his hair, clearly frustrated. “I mean, I didn’t just wake up one morning thinking, ‘Yeah, fatherhood sounds fucking great.’ It’s just… ever since we looked at that house, the thought’s been there. And I don’t know why.”
Michael hummed, tilting his head. “Maybe you do know, but you don’t wanna admit it.”
Jayden met his gaze, but Michael’s expression was unreadable. He swallowed hard, suddenly feeling like he was under a spotlight.
Daniel leaned back, watching him closely. “That house triggered something, didn’t it?”
Jayden exhaled sharply, rubbing the back of his neck. “Maybe… I don’t know.” He let out a dry laugh. “Shit, maybe I’ve finally lost the plot.”
Liam smirked. “Oh, you lost it ages ago, mate.”

Michael chuckled but didn’t drop the subject. “Still. If this thought is stuck in your head, there’s gotta be a reason.”
Jayden bit the inside of his cheek, avoiding their eyes. “Yeah… but I don’t know if I want to find out what it is.”
Jayden swallowed hard, his gaze fixed on the floor. Maybe… maybe he did have an idea where this was coming from. But it was a door he had no interest in opening. Not now. Not in front of them.
A memory clawed at the edges of his mind—the hushed arguments, the cold distance, the truth he hadn’t learned until it was too late. His ex, pregnant. His ex, deciding—without him. The child he never even had the chance to want.
He clenched his jaw and pushed the thought aside.
No. This wasn’t the time.

Lifting his head, he forced a smirk. “You know what? Fuck this. Why are we talking about me? Liam’s the real mystery lately.”
Liam, who had just reached for his drink, froze. “What?”
Jayden leaned back, draping an arm over the back of the couch. “You’ve been weird with Enya. Not your usual grumpy-ass self—worse. You barely look at her half the time. So what’s the deal?”
Michael and Daniel turned their heads simultaneously, eyes narrowing at Liam.
Liam sighed heavily, rubbing his temple. “Brilliant. Turn the spotlight on me, why don’t ya?”
Michael smirked. “Deflectin’, are we?” Liam shot him a glare but didn’t answer right away.
Jayden, however, wasn’t letting it go. “Seriously, man. What’s going on?”
Liam huffed, avoiding their eyes. “Nothin’.”

Daniel raised an eyebrow. “That’s some premium bullshit right there.”
Jayden watched him closely. “Liam… did something happen?”
Liam tensed, jaw clenching for a fraction of a second before he forced a scoff. “It’s nothin’.”
Jayden didn’t believe that for a second. And judging by the way Michael and Daniel exchanged glances, neither did they.
Liam stayed quiet for a moment, swirling the ice in his glass as if it held the answer. His knee bounced, a sure sign he was restless, and his gaze flicked to the others before landing on the table.
Daniel, ever impatient, sighed dramatically. “Well?”
Michael nudged him. “Give ‘im a sec.”
Liam exhaled sharply, rubbing the back of his neck. “It’s… complicated.”
Jayden tilted his head. “Try us.”
Liam licked his lips, hesitated, then finally muttered, “Enya’s… kind of a trigger for me.”

Silence.

Michael blinked. “Wait. What?”
Daniel frowned. “What d’you mean?”
Liam sighed, clearly uncomfortable, but when he spoke again, his voice was steadier. “She reminds me of things. Things I’d rather not think about. Not ‘cause she did anything wrong—but just ‘cause of… shit from last year.” He shrugged, trying to play it off. “Been talkin’ to my therapist about it. We’re workin’ on it.”
Jayden stared at him, his own thoughts momentarily forgotten. He hadn’t expected that. Not in a million years. Liam wasn’t exactly known for talking about his feelings, let alone his trauma.
And yet, here he was.

Jayden swallowed. “I… I didn’t know.”
Liam gave him a small, wry smirk. “Yeah, well. Didn’t seem necessary to say. S’not her fault, after all.”
Michael whistled lowly. “Damn, mate.” Daniel, for once, didn’t have a smart remark. He just nodded slowly.
Jayden let the words settle, a strange mix of emotions stirring in his chest. “Well… thanks for tellin’ me.” Liam shrugged again, but there was something a little lighter in his posture now. “Yeah. No problem.”

The room stayed quiet for a beat longer before Michael, in typical fashion, decided it was time to shake things up.
“So… does this mean you’ll cry if we make you watch The Notebook?”
Liam groaned. “For fuck’s sake—”
Daniel grinned. “Yeah, yeah, trauma’s a bitch, but more importantly—are you actually sayin’ you’re the fragile one ‘round Enya?”
Jayden, despite himself, chuckled. “Oh, how the tables have turned.”
Liam threw his head back with an exaggerated groan. “I hate all of you.”
Michael clapped him on the shoulder. “We know, mate. We know.”

Chapter Text

By the time Lexy arrived at Enya’s place, she was armed with a couple of pizza boxes and an easy grin. Enya, already waiting with two glasses of wine, welcomed her inside, and soon they were sprawled out on the couch, devouring slices of hot, cheesy goodness.
As they ate, the conversation naturally drifted toward the boys.
"I bet they're just sitting around drunk right now, metaphorically measuring their dicks," Lexy said, taking another bite of pizza.
Enya snorted into her wine glass. "Metaphorically? I'm not so sure about that..."

Both of them burst into laughter, exchanging stories about the guys’ antics—Jayden’s sudden hyperactive energy, Liam’s perpetual grumpiness, and Michael’s relentless flirting.
Once their stomachs were full and the initial gossip died down, Lexy let her eyes wander around the living room. Her gaze landed on something that made her pause.
“Wait… do you play?” she asked, pointing at the keyboard tucked into the corner.
Enya followed her gaze and nodded. “Yeah, since I was a kid. It’s my biggest passion.”
Lexy raised an eyebrow. “Are you any good?”
Enya smirked. “I’d like to think so.”
“Well then, prove it,” Lexy challenged, leaning back against the couch with a teasing look.

Enya didn't need to be told twice. She stood up, walked over to the keyboard, and let her fingers hover over the keys for a moment before she began to play. The first notes were soft and elegant, a classical piece that filled the room with warmth. Lexy watched in quiet admiration as Enya’s hands glided effortlessly over the keys, completely lost in the music.
Then, the melody shifted. The opening notes of a different song rang out—haunting and melancholic, yet deeply familiar. It took Lexy only seconds to recognize it.
Is It Really You?
Her heart clenched at the sound of it, and before she could stop herself, she opened her mouth and began to sing.

"Face away
Deal with the pain
Your own way
How could they deal with the pan?"

Her voice was raw yet smooth, filled with emotion as she sang along to the melody. Enya glanced up, visibly surprised but delighted. Lexy’s voice was incredible—husky, expressive, and effortlessly powerful.
As the final notes faded, silence settled between them. Enya turned to Lexy, her eyes shining with excitement. “Holy shit, Lexy… your voice is amazing!”
Lexy quickly looked away, grabbing her wine glass like it was a lifeline. “Nah, I used to sing, but that was a long time ago.”
“You should sing,” Enya insisted, still in awe. “I mean it. Your voice is unreal. It’d be a crime to let that go to waste.”
But Lexy shook her head and took a deep sip of wine. “No thanks. Music and I… we don’t mix anymore.”
Her voice carried a weight that made Enya pause. She could tell this wasn’t just Lexy being modest—there was something deeper behind it. But she decided not to push. At least, not yet.

Lexy, clearly uncomfortable with the sudden spotlight on her singing, shifted in her seat and took another sip of wine. Then, as if determined to steer the conversation away from herself, she leaned forward with a smirk.
"Alright, enough about me. What about you?" she asked. "How did you and Jayden actually meet?"
Enya smiled at the mention of him, but there was a flicker of something else in her expression—nostalgia, maybe even a hint of sadness. She let out a small sigh, swirling the wine in her glass.
"That’s… kind of a long story," she admitted.
Lexy stretched her legs out on the couch and waved a hand. “Good thing I’ve got nowhere else to be.”

Enya chuckled softly before letting her gaze drift toward the keyboard again, as if it somehow held the memories of that night.
"I used to go to this little piano bar all the time," she began. "Back when things with my ex were… bad. I just needed somewhere to escape, somewhere I could breathe. And that place—" she paused, smiling faintly, "—it was like my sanctuary. No one expected anything from me there. I could just sit at the piano, play for a while, and pretend the rest of the world didn’t exist."
Lexy listened intently, noting the way Enya’s fingers absently traced the rim of her glass.
"And one night," Enya continued, "I was playing, just lost in the music like always, when I heard this voice behind me say, ‘You’re really fucking good at that.’"
Lexy snorted. "Let me guess—Jayden?"

Enya nodded, laughing softly. "Yeah. I didn’t even know who he was at the time. He just sat down next to me, completely uninvited, and handed me a drink. Told me it was on him, and that someone who played like that deserved at least one free drink."
Lexy raised an eyebrow. "Smooth."
"Oh, extremely," Enya agreed, rolling her eyes playfully. "I figured he was just some random guy trying to flirt, so I wasn’t exactly warm to him at first. But then we started talking, and… I don’t know. He was just so easy to talk to. Like, for the first time in a long time, I felt like someone was actually listening, not just waiting for their turn to talk."
Lexy smirked. "That does sound like him. Overly emotional softie that he is."
"Yeah, well… that softie saved my life that night," Enya said quietly, her expression turning serious for a moment. "I think if he hadn’t sat down next to me, I might’ve gone home to my ex, and who knows what would’ve happened."
Lexy’s smirk faded. She didn't press for details, but the weight of Enya’s words hung between them for a moment.

Finally, Lexy cleared her throat, trying to lighten the mood again. "Well, shit. Now I have to see this place for myself. We should go one night, you and me."
Enya blinked at her, then smiled. "You’d really want to?"
"Absolutely. I want to see where your epic love story began," Lexy teased, wiggling her eyebrows. "Plus, if the drinks are free for talented musicians, maybe I can sweet-talk my way into one, too."
Enya laughed, shaking her head. "You do not need any more wine."
"Hey, I didn’t say I’d be the musician. I’d just get you to play something and claim I’m your manager or something," Lexy said with a wink. "We’ll have the whole place wrapped around our fingers in no time."
Enya grinned. "Alright, deal. But if we’re going, you have to sing again."
Lexy groaned, but Enya saw the faint smile she tried to hide. Maybe, just maybe, she was getting through to her after all.

Lexy stretched her arms above her head, sinking deeper into the couch with a satisfied sigh. “Alright, that was fun. But if we’re already on a Sleep Token kick, how about another one?”
Enya raised an eyebrow. “Another song?”
Lexy nodded, swirling her wine glass. “Yeah. Surprise me.”
Enya hesitated for a moment, then let her fingers drift over the keys, searching for a melody. Almost instinctively, they found their way into the opening notes of Atlantic.
Lexy’s breath hitched slightly. She recognized it immediately. And just like before, the lyrics came naturally—soft at first, then growing stronger as she lost herself in the music.

"Call me when they bury bodies underwater
It's blue light over murder for me"

Enya glanced at her as she sang, captivated by the raw emotion in her voice. Lexy didn’t just sing the words; she felt them. Every note carried a weight, a history, a pain that made Enya’s heart ache.
By the time the last chord faded into silence, Lexy was staring at the floor, her expression unreadable.
Enya swallowed, choosing her next words carefully. “Lexy…”
Lexy exhaled sharply and ran a hand through her hair. “You’re gonna ask me about it, aren’t you?”
Enya hesitated, then nodded. “Yeah. I mean… you have an incredible voice. And you obviously love music. So why did you stop?”
Lexy let out a dry laugh, but there was no humor in it. “Shit. You don’t beat around the bush, do you?”
Enya stayed quiet, giving her space.

After a moment, Lexy sighed, leaning forward with her elbows on her knees. “I was in a band once,” she admitted. “Played bass, did some backup vocals. We were actually doing pretty well—gigs every weekend, even got some industry attention.” She paused, tapping her fingers against her thigh. “I thought it was everything I wanted.”
Enya listened intently, sensing that this wasn’t an easy story for Lexy to tell.

Lexy let out a slow breath. “And then one night, after a show… I was walking home, took a shortcut through a park and I got jumped.” Her voice tightened, but she forced herself to continue. “Two guys. I knew them, but that didn’t matter. They waited until I was alone, dragged me to a corner of the park where I could not see, forced me onto a bench, and—” She stopped, her jaw clenching. “You can figure out the rest.”
Enya felt her stomach drop. “Lexy…”
Lexy shrugged, though her fingers gripped the edge of the couch with white-knuckled tension. “After that, I couldn’t do it anymore. Couldn’t even look at my bass without feeling sick. Every gig, every song, every fucking chord just reminded me of them.” She exhaled through her nose. “So, I quit.”

Enya felt a lump form in her throat. “I’m so sorry,” she whispered.
Lexy waved a hand dismissively. “It was a long time ago. Doesn’t matter now.”
But Enya could see that it did matter. It still haunted her.
Silence stretched between them for a moment before Enya reached over and gently placed her hand over Lexy’s. “For what it’s worth… I think you’re stronger than you give yourself credit for.”
Lexy let out a dry chuckle, but her eyes were suspiciously glossy. “Don’t get all sappy on me now, Ny-Ny.”
Enya smiled softly. “Can’t help it. Occupational hazard of working with kids all day.”
Lexy smirked, shaking her head. “You’re impossible.”
But despite her words, she didn’t pull her hand away.

Lexy exhaled sharply, rubbing her temples. “Shit. Didn’t mean to kill the vibe.”
Enya shook her head. “You didn’t.”
Lexy huffed a quiet laugh. “I did. But whatever. We’re being honest, right?”
Enya hesitated for a moment before nodding. “Yeah. We are.”
Lexy studied her, something unreadable in her gaze. “So, what about you?”
Enya blinked. “What do you mean?”
Lexy shrugged. “You asked me why I quit music. But what about you? You said you used to come to that bar all the time. You never really explained why.”
Enya’s fingers instinctively traced the rim of her wine glass. “Because it was the only place I felt safe,” she admitted.
Lexy raised an eyebrow, waiting for her to continue.

Enya let out a shaky breath. “I was still with Ryan back then,” she said quietly.
Lexy’s eyes darkened at the mention of his name. “The asshole ex?”
Enya nodded. “Yeah. The relationship was… bad. I mean, I knew that, deep down, but I kept telling myself it would get better.” She let out a humorless laugh. “It never did.”
Lexy remained silent, letting her talk.
Enya swallowed hard. “I was already seeing Jayden by then. Or—sleeping with him, at least.” She sighed, shaking her head. “It wasn’t planned. It just… happened. And I felt so guilty about it, but at the same time, being with Jay felt like the only time I could breathe.”
Lexy’s expression was unreadable. “And Ryan found out?”
Enya let out a slow breath. “Yeah. He found out.” Her voice trembled slightly. “He lost his shit. Screamed at me, called me every name in the book. And then…” She trailed off, glancing down at her hands.

Lexy’s jaw tightened. “He hit you.”
Enya nodded. “Not just hit me. He beat me. I don’t even remember half of it. Just flashes—him grabbing my hair, throwing me against the dresser. Kicking me when I was down.” She swallowed, her voice barely above a whisper. “Then he threw me out. I had nowhere to go. I barely even had my phone.”
Lexy clenched her fists, her knuckles turning white. “That fucking piece of shit—”
Enya gave her a small, sad smile. “Jayden found me later that night. I was a mess, sitting in the bar, trying to pretend I was fine. He took one look at me and knew something was wrong.” She let out a shaky laugh. “Didn’t even hesitate. Just picked me up and took me straight to the hospital.”

Lexy’s anger softened slightly. “And after that?”
Enya shrugged. “After that, I never really left his side.”
Lexy leaned back, exhaling slowly. “Jesus, Ny-Ny.”
Enya forced a smile. “Guess we both have our fair share of trauma, huh?”
Lexy let out a dry laugh. “Yeah. Seems like it.”
They sat in silence for a moment, the weight of their words lingering in the air. Then Lexy lifted her wine glass. “To survival?”
Enya clinked her glass against hers. “To survival.”
They drank, the moment heavy but not unbearable. There was an understanding between them now—a shared history of pain, but also of resilience.
And maybe, just maybe, of healing.

Lexy swirled her wine glass, watching the liquid slosh against the sides before taking a sip. “So, spill,” she said, arching an eyebrow. “Why exactly did you insist on sending Jay away for the night? Thought you two were all schmoopy and inseparable.”
Enya groaned, rubbing her face. “Ugh. I love him, but he’s been acting like a goddamn sex fiend lately. I swear, I can’t go two minutes without him trying to jump me.”
Lexy snorted. “Poor you. A devoted, hot-ass rockstar desperately wanting to fuck you at every opportunity. Must be so hard.”
Enya shot her a deadpan look. “Yeah, well, try having your insides rearranged every other hour and tell me how hard it is.”
Lexy choked on her wine, coughing as she laughed. “Jesus Christ, Enya!”

Enya sighed dramatically. “I mean, don’t get me wrong, the orgasms are out of this world, but at this rate, I’m gonna need physical therapy just to walk properly.”
Lexy grinned wickedly. “Yeah, well… with the size of that fucker, I’m not surprised.”
Enya froze, her wine glass halfway to her lips. Slowly, she set it down. “Excuse me?”
Lexy blinked. “Uh.”
Enya narrowed her eyes. “What do you mean, you’re not surprised?”
Lexy cleared her throat. “I, uh… may or may not have first-hand experience.”
Enya’s jaw dropped. “You fucked Jayden!?”

Lexy groaned, rubbing her temples. “Ugh, technically, yes. But it was a long time ago, okay?”
Enya gaped at her. “Oh my God. When?”
Lexy sighed. “Like… ten years ago?”
Enya threw her hands up. “You had a thing with him!?”
Lexy rolled her eyes. “It wasn’t a thing. More like a… brief, very intense fling. It was just sex. No emotions, no drama, just… a lot of orgasms.” She smirked. “And trust me, babe, I get why you need a break.”
Enya made a strangled noise. “Lex, what the fuck!?”
Lexy held up her hands. “Relax, will you? It’s not like I’ve been secretly pining for him. He ended it, anyway.”
Enya frowned. “Why?”

Lexy shrugged. “Guilt. He was with someone at the time, and even though she didn’t know, he still felt bad about it.” She smirked. “And, well… Jay’s always had this thing where he wants to be a good guy, even when his dick has other ideas.”
Enya shook her head, still processing. “This is so weird.”
Lexy grinned. “Oh, come on, don’t tell me you’re jealous.”
Enya scowled. “I am not jealous.”
Lexy smirked. “You totally are.”
Enya grabbed her wine and took a long sip. “I hate you.”
Lexy winked. “Nah. You love me.”
They clinked glasses again, the previous heaviness replaced by playful banter.

Lexy grinned mischievously, raising her wine glass. “Well, then. I think there’s only one thing left to do.”
Enya eyed her warily. “Oh God. What?”
Lexy smirked. “A toast.”
Enya groaned. “Lexy—”
But Lexy was already lifting her glass higher, eyes twinkling with mischief. “To Jayden’s massive cock and the earth-shattering orgasms it delivers.”
Enya buried her face in her hands, laughing despite herself. “You’re the worst.”
Lexy clinked her glass against Enya’s with a wicked grin. “Bitch, I’m the best.”
Enya sighed dramatically but took a sip anyway. “Fine. To Jayden’s dick.”
They both burst into laughter, the weight of their previous conversation lifting as they drank to the most ridiculous toast ever.

Chapter Text

Liam sat slouched in the chair, arms crossed, a deep crease between his brows. The room was quiet, apart from the faint hum of the coffee machine in the corner. Dr. Carter, leaning back in his chair with his ever-present clipboard, studied him with that annoyingly perceptive gaze.
“You look like you have something on your mind,” Dr. Carter said, tapping his pen against the armrest.
Liam exhaled through his nose. “Been having weird dreams lately. Really intense ones.”
Dr. Carter nodded. “Vivid dreams are a common side effect of your meds. Anything specific?”
Liam hesitated. He didn’t want to sound paranoid, but something about this felt… off. “Yeah. Sometimes they’re just… messed up memories, you know? Ryan, the past, all that shit. Other times, it’s like I’m stuck in a loop, reliving things but slightly different. And then… sometimes, I wake up in places I don’t remember going to.”
Dr. Carter sat up slightly. “Go on.”

Liam rubbed a hand over his face. “Few nights ago, I woke up standing in the living room. No clue how I got there. Last thing I remembered was falling asleep in my bed.”
Dr. Carter’s expression remained neutral. “How did you feel when you woke up?”
Liam frowned. “Confused. Like… like I wasn’t fully there at first. Took me a second to realize where I was.”
“Any other instances?”
“Not really. Just this weird feeling sometimes, like I might’ve been moving around in my sleep. Nothing major.”
Dr. Carter tapped his pen against his knee. “Sleepwalking isn’t unheard of, especially with your medication. It’s rare, but not impossible. You said your dreams have been more intense—do you ever feel like you’re acting them out?”
Liam thought about it. “I… don’t know. Maybe? Like, I wake up and feel like I was in the middle of something, but it’s fuzzy.”

Dr. Carter nodded. “Alright. First thing—don’t panic. One isolated incident doesn’t mean anything serious. But let’s keep an eye on it. If it happens again, I want you to take note of what time you wake up, where you are, and what you remember before and after.”
Liam snorted. “Great. Sleep journaling. Just what I needed.”
Dr. Carter grinned. “You love homework, don’t lie to me.”
Liam rolled his eyes but felt a bit of the tension in his chest ease. “Yeah, yeah.”

Dr. Carter let a brief silence settle before shifting gears. “How are things between you, Enya, and Jayden?”
Liam exhaled, rubbing his palms over his jeans. “Jayden’s the same as always. Bloody saint, that one.” He let out a dry chuckle. “I told him about my… complicated feelings for Enya. He took it well. Almost too well.”
Dr. Carter raised an eyebrow. “Too well?”
Liam shrugged. “I expected… I don’t know, maybe a bit of tension? But he was just—understanding. Said he gets it, that he’s not threatened by it, and that I need to focus on myself.” He scoffed. “Like I said, saint.”
Dr. Carter smirked but didn’t interrupt.

Liam ran a hand through his hair. “I’ve been keeping my distance from Enya. Physically, I mean. No touching, no casual intimacy.” His fingers curled slightly. “And weirdly enough, my nightmares have been easing up. Less… intense.”
Dr. Carter tilted his head. “That’s interesting. Do you think there’s a connection?”
Liam hesitated, then nodded. “Yeah. I think so. Maybe it’s guilt. Maybe it’s some twisted way my brain punishes me for wanting something I shouldn’t.” His jaw tightened. “But I told Enya it’s part of my therapy. She didn’t argue, didn’t push back… but I could see it hurt her.”
Dr. Carter watched him carefully. “And how did that make you feel?”
Liam let out a bitter laugh. “Like an arsehole.” He shook his head. “But I can’t—fuck, I won’t keep doing this. If it’s helping, then it’s the right thing to do. She’ll be fine.”
Dr. Carter didn’t immediately respond, letting Liam sit with his own words for a moment. Then, softly, he said, “And will you?”
Liam didn’t answer.

Dr. Carter leaned back slightly. “And the move? How do you feel about that?”
Liam sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. “Honestly? I don’t know. I mean, I get why Enya wants a fresh start, and Jay’s more than happy to make that happen. But it’s a house—our house.” He frowned. “It makes everything feel… permanent. Like this whole thing between us isn’t just some weird, temporary arrangement.”
Dr. Carter nodded. “That scares you?”
Liam hesitated before exhaling sharply. “Maybe. I’m used to feeling like I have an escape route. But this? Feels like I’m locking myself into something. And I don’t know if I’m ready for that.”
Dr. Carter studied him for a moment. “Then maybe it’s not about whether or not you’re ready. Maybe it’s about figuring out what ‘ready’ would even look like for you.”
Liam let out a short, humorless chuckle. “Yeah. Suppose I should start there, huh?”

Dr. Carter gave a small nod, letting Liam’s words settle. “That’s a good place to start. But let’s dig a little deeper—what is it about permanence that unsettles you?”
Liam frowned, shifting in his seat. “It’s not just the house, it’s… everything. Enya. Jayden. This whole dynamic we’ve got.” He rubbed his hands together, feeling the rough skin of his palms. “They’re constants. And I don’t do well with constants.”
Dr. Carter leaned forward slightly. “Because?”
Liam let out a sharp breath through his nose. “Because people leave. Or they change. Or I fuck things up.” His jaw tightened. “Nothing stays good forever.”

Dr. Carter let that sit between them for a moment before responding. “You’re expecting it to fall apart?”
Liam huffed. “More like waiting for the inevitable.”
Dr. Carter tilted his head. “Do you think that belief makes it more likely to happen?”
Liam looked away, pressing his tongue against his cheek. “Dunno. Maybe.” He sighed. “I just—sometimes I feel like I’m playing a part in something that’s got an expiration date. Like I don’t really belong in this.”
Dr. Carter’s voice was steady. “In what way?”
Liam exhaled through his nose. “Jay and Enya… they’re solid. Unbreakable, y’know? And me? I’m the extra piece. The one who could be cut away without them losing anything important.”
Dr. Carter studied him for a long moment. “You believe they don’t need you.”
Liam’s throat tightened. “I know they don’t.”

Dr. Carter let the words hang before saying, “Liam, I want you to think about something. If they didn’t need you, if you were just some disposable extra… why would they fight so hard to keep you in their lives?”
Liam swallowed hard, but didn’t answer.
Dr. Carter let out a quiet breath. “You’ve spent so long expecting people to leave that you don’t know what to do when someone actually stays.”
Liam let out a short, humorless laugh. “Yeah. Maybe.” He ran a hand down his face. “So what am I supposed to do about that?”
Dr. Carter offered him a small, knowing smile. “You start by acknowledging that maybe, just maybe, you deserve to stay.”

Liam let out a slow breath, his fingers tapping against his knee. “Yeah, well… I’ll work on that.”
Dr. Carter chuckled lightly. “That’s the spirit.” He glanced at the clock, then back at Liam. “I think we’ve got enough to chew on for today. Same time next week?”
Liam nodded, already reaching for his jacket. “Yeah. Sure.” He stood up but hesitated at the door, gripping the handle for a second longer than necessary. “Dr. Carter?”
The therapist looked up. “Hmm?”
Liam shifted, his voice quieter now. “If I really do belong… when does it start feeling real?”
Dr. Carter offered him a knowing look. “When you stop waiting for it to disappear.”
Liam pressed his lips together, nodding once before slipping out of the office.

Chapter Text

Jayden muttered a curse under his breath as he slammed his phone onto the kitchen counter. “I swear, if they call me one more time…”
Enya grinned from her spot on the couch, lazily unwrapping a chocolate bar. “Maybe you should just turn it off for an hour? You’ve been packing and working all day, and your manager has been breathing down your neck non-stop. You deserve a break.”
Jayden ran a hand through his hair and let out a deep sigh. “I know, I know… but there’s so much to handle before we leave. The house, the band, the travel schedules—”
“Jay.” Enya cut him off with a firm look and sat up. “Breathe.”
He chuckled softly, but she could see the exhaustion in his eyes. Without hesitation, she got up, walked over to him, and wrapped her arms around his neck. “You’re overworking yourself again. That’s not healthy.”

Jayden leaned into her touch for a moment, resting his face against her neck. “Maybe I just need a distraction.” His voice was lower now, rougher—a clear sign that he was more than enjoying her closeness.
Enya smirked. “A distraction, huh?”
She slowly pulled back, stepping just out of his reach, and in one fluid motion, lifted her shirt over her head. “I can work with that.”
Jayden froze, his eyes darkening as they traced every inch of exposed skin, a slow, wicked smile tugging at his lips. “Oh? So you’re taking control now?”
She shrugged, stepping even closer until his back pressed against the kitchen counter. “You always do. Maybe it’s time to switch things up a little.”
His breath hitched as her hands roamed over his chest, her lips grazing his skin in the lightest of touches. Instinctively, he reached for her hips, but she caught his wrists and playfully pinned them against the counter.
“Ah, ah…” Her grin was nothing short of devilish. “No touching, Mr. Singer. Just let me do all the work this time.”
Jayden let out a deep chuckle that quickly turned into a low groan as she leaned in, brushing her lips against his ear to whisper, “Just relax.”
And so he did.

Jayden barely had time to react before Enya dropped to her knees in front of him.
“Enya…” His voice was already thick with anticipation, his fingers twitching at his sides, aching to touch her. But the way she looked up at him, eyes dark with intent, made it clear—she was in control tonight.
“Shh,” she murmured, dragging her nails lightly over his thighs before reaching for his belt. “You’ve been running around all day, stressed out of your mind. Let me take care of you.”
His breath hitched as she slowly unbuckled his belt, taking her time, teasing him with featherlight touches. She popped the button of his jeans, pulled down the zipper with agonizing slowness, and let the denim slide down his legs. He was already half-hard, the anticipation alone enough to make him pulse with need.
“Fuck, darling…” He exhaled sharply, his head falling back against the cabinets as she pressed soft, open-mouthed kisses along his length, teasing him through the fabric of his boxers.

She hummed against him, her hands roaming up his torso, nails scraping lightly over his stomach before she hooked her fingers into his waistband and dragged his underwear down. His cock sprang free, and she bit her lip, clearly enjoying the sight before her.
“God, I missed this,” she murmured, wrapping her fingers around him, stroking him slowly, deliberately. She flicked her gaze up to meet his, her tongue darting out to wet her lips before she leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to the tip.
Jayden groaned, his hands gripping the edge of the counter so tightly his knuckles turned white. “Enya…”
She grinned, savoring his desperation, before finally taking him into her mouth.

His curse was barely more than a strangled breath as she worked him expertly, her tongue tracing every ridge, every vein, her mouth a hot, wet heaven around him. She set a slow, torturous pace at first, sucking lightly, hollowing her cheeks as she took him deeper.
“Fuck—” Jayden’s hands flew to her hair before he caught himself, remembering her earlier command. His fingers flexed, itching to bury themselves in those dark red strands and guide her, but he held back, barely.
Enya, ever the tease, pulled back until only the tip remained between her lips, swirling her tongue around it before taking him back in, deeper this time, moaning around him just to drive him insane.
His legs trembled. His control was slipping fast. “Darling, if you keep—shit—”
She pulled off him with an obscene pop, wiping the corner of her mouth with the back of her hand, smirking up at him. “What’s wrong, baby? Thought you needed to relax?”
Jayden let out a breathless laugh, shaking his head. “You’re gonna kill me.”
She grinned wickedly. “Then I better make it worth it.”
And with that, she took him even deeper, until his head slammed back against the cabinets and all he could do was curse and let her take him apart.

Jayden was trembling by the time Enya pulled back for air, her lips swollen, her breath hot against his slick skin. His hands were still clenched into fists at his sides, every muscle in his body coiled with restraint.
She wiped the corner of her mouth with her thumb, smirking up at him. “You’re being so good for me,” she murmured, trailing her nails lightly up his thighs, teasing. “Holding back like this. But…” She tilted her head, her voice dripping with mischief. “Maybe you don’t have to.”
His breath hitched. “Enya—”
She grinned wickedly, running her tongue along the underside of his cock, watching the way his body shuddered at the sensation. Then, locking eyes with him, she whispered, “Take what you need.”
That was all it took.
Jayden’s control snapped.

A growl tore from his throat as his fingers finally tangled in her hair, his grip firm but not painful—at least, not yet. “You sure, baby?” His voice was dark, rough with desire.
She hummed a sultry “Mhm” around the tip of his cock, and that was the last bit of permission he needed.
His free hand braced against the counter as he guided her back onto him, pushing deeper this time. She let him, relaxing her throat, letting him find his pace. Slow at first, testing, but it didn’t take long for desperation to take over. His hips snapped forward, and he groaned as he felt her throat tighten around him.
“Fuck, Enya…” His voice was wrecked, his grip in her hair tightening as he set a brutal rhythm, thrusting deep into her mouth. Tears pricked at the corners of her eyes, but she didn’t pull away—if anything, she moaned around him, the vibrations driving him insane.
The sight of her like this, on her knees, letting him use her like this, sent a violent shudder through his body. He was too far gone to be gentle now. Each thrust was rougher than the last, his cock sliding deep into the heat of her throat, until her nails dug into his thighs, her body shaking under his control.

“Fuck, fuck, that’s it—” His voice was a strangled moan as he lost himself in the wet, obscene heat of her mouth, every inch of him trembling with the effort to hold back just a little longer.
Enya’s hands slid up his stomach, her fingers splayed against his abs as if to steady herself. But then—fuck—one hand dipped lower, between her own legs, and the realization that she was touching herself while he fucked her throat nearly destroyed him.
“Jesus, Darling,” he gasped, pulling back just enough for her to take a shuddering breath before he thrust back in, deeper, harder, the slick sound of it almost obscene. His grip in her hair tightened, his hips snapping forward with abandon.
He could feel it building, that blinding, suffocating pleasure coiling low in his stomach. “Gonna—fuck—”

She moaned in response, the sound sending white-hot pleasure searing through his veins. He barely had time to choke out a warning before he came hard, groaning her name as he spilled down her throat.
She took it all, swallowing every last drop, keeping her mouth wrapped around him until his body stopped shaking. Only then did she slowly pull away, licking her lips, her eyes dark and full of satisfaction.
Jayden was wrecked. Completely and utterly destroyed. His head fell back against the cabinets, his chest heaving as he tried to catch his breath.
Enya grinned up at him, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. “Feeling better?” she teased, voice hoarse.
Jayden let out a breathless laugh, running a hand through his damp hair. “You’re fucking evil.”
She smirked, pressing a teasing kiss to his hip. “And yet, you love me for it.”
He groaned, dragging her up into his arms, crashing his mouth against hers in a desperate, messy kiss. “You have no fucking idea.”

As Jayden leaned against the kitchen counter, still basking in the afterglow of their heated encounter, a satisfied smirk played on his lips. Enya, now fully dressed, smirked back while lazily tying her hair into a loose bun. The air between them was thick with lingering tension, but before either of them could act on it, the sharp ringing of Jayden’s phone shattered the moment.
With a groan, he reached for it and saw Michael’s name flashing on the screen.
„Mate, are we hitting the studio today?“ Michael’s voice came through, casual as ever.
Jayden exhaled heavily, running a hand through his hair. „Can’t today, man. We’re knee-deep in packing for the move.“
Michael hummed in understanding. „All good. I’ll just keep working on my drum parts then. You two try not to kill each other over the packing, yeah?“
Jayden chuckled. „No promises.“

As he hung up, he turned to Enya—only to find her rifling through an already packed moving box instead of adding to it. He frowned playfully.
„Uh, babe… I think you're supposed to be packing, not unpacking.“
Enya arched a brow. „Oh, really? Maybe you should make yourself useful instead of just standing there staring at me.“
Jayden laughed, stepping closer to her. „I was admiring your technique. Very efficient.“
She rolled her eyes but couldn’t suppress a grin as she continued sorting through the box. Jayden, ever the distraction, grabbed an item from the counter—a bag of coffee beans—and tossed it into the box she had just closed.
„Jay, seriously?“ she huffed, pulling it out. „That does not belong with the kitchenware.“
„Sure it does,“ he said innocently. „Coffee is the heart of every kitchen.“
She threw a dish towel at him in response, making him burst into laughter.
For a little while, the weight of responsibilities melted away. It was just the two of them—teasing, laughing, and stealing fleeting moments of normalcy before the next storm hit.

As Enya reached for another box, a sudden noise interrupted her—Gremlin’s unmistakable whine, followed by the rapid tapping of his paws against the floor. The little whirlwind of energy trotted up to them, tail wagging furiously as he gave Jayden an expectant look.
„I think someone needs a bathroom break,“ Enya said, grinning as Gremlin let out another dramatic sigh for emphasis.
Jayden ran a hand through his hair and sighed. „Alright, alright. You’re so demanding, mate.“
Enya laughed. „Says the guy who just had me on my knees in the kitchen.“
Jayden shot her a look, half amused, half scandalized. „You have no filter, do you?“
„Not around you,“ she teased, grabbing his hand and dragging him toward the door.

Once outside, the crisp evening air wrapped around them as they strolled down the quiet street. Gremlin pranced ahead, occasionally stopping to sniff at random spots before marking his territory like the tiny king he was.
Jayden had just shoved his hands into his pockets when he felt a sharp pinch on his backside. He jumped slightly, turning to Enya with a mock-offended expression. „Did you just—?“
„Maybe.“ She smirked, completely unapologetic.
He narrowed his eyes. „You’re playing a dangerous game, love.“
„Oh, I know,“ she mused, skipping ahead just as he reached for her. She managed to stay out of his grasp—until Gremlin suddenly changed direction, forcing her to slow down.
Jayden seized the opportunity and grabbed her by the waist, spinning her around effortlessly. „Gotcha.“
Enya yelped, laughing breathlessly as he lifted her off the ground for a brief moment before setting her back down. She swatted at his chest, still giggling. „That was cheating!“
„You started it,“ Jayden pointed out, brushing a loose strand of hair behind her ear. His fingers lingered against her skin, and for a moment, they just stood there, smiling at each other.

A sudden tug on the leash reminded them that Gremlin was still there, completely unimpressed by their antics. He huffed loudly, as if urging them to get a move on.
„Alright, alright, we’re walking,“ Jayden muttered, shaking his head with a grin.
As they continued down the street, Enya’s fingers found their way into his back pocket, giving him another playful squeeze.
Jayden groaned. „You’re impossible.“
„And you love it.“
„Yeah… yeah, I really do.“

The evening had started so playfully. After their little kitchen escapade and a fun walk with Gremlin, Jayden and Enya had returned home, still laughing and teasing each other. But the moment they stepped back inside, Jayden’s focus shifted.
Instead of basking in their lighthearted mood, he went straight back to packing, sorting through his things like he was on autopilot. Enya watched as he moved from one task to the next, barely acknowledging her. The easygoing warmth between them faded, replaced by the ever-present weight of responsibility on his shoulders.
At first, she just watched, waiting for him to take a break. When he didn’t, she sighed and leaned against the doorframe. “Must you do this right now? I thought we were enjoying our evening.”
Jayden didn’t even look up. “I know, babe, but if I don’t do it now, I’ll have twice as much to deal with tomorrow.”
That irritated her. She crossed her arms, a pout forming on her lips. “Oh, sure. Jayden, the workaholic. Always thinking two steps ahead. I bet even if I stood in front of you completely naked, you’d still be packing your damn boxes.”
That made him pause. He slowly lifted his gaze, amusement flickering in his deep blue eyes. “You think you could break my focus that easily?”
Enya scoffed. “Bitch, please. I could have you dropping everything in less than a minute.”
Jayden smirked, straightening up. “Wanna put that theory to the test?”

For a second, she considered it. But then her stubbornness kicked in. Instead of indulging him, she turned on her heel and strode toward the bedroom. “You know what? I’ll just leave you to your precious boxes. Have fun.”
Jayden chuckled under his breath, shaking his head as he followed her. When he stepped into the bedroom, she was sitting on the bed, legs crossed, arms folded over her chest—pure defiance in every line of her posture.
He leaned against the doorframe, watching her with that knowing look. And then he delivered the final blow:
“You wanna argue all night or ride my face and squirt all over me?”
Enya’s lips parted slightly, her eyes blinking in stunned silence. For once, he had managed to throw her completely off guard.
Then, her expression shifted. She narrowed her eyes at him. “You’re using sex to shut me up.”
Jayden shrugged with faux innocence. “Is it working?”

Of course, it was working. But she wasn’t about to let him win that easily. Instead of answering, she pushed herself up, slowly walking toward him with an air of controlled confidence. When she reached him, she placed a firm hand against his chest and gave him a gentle push backward.
Jayden let himself be guided, discarding his shirt in the process and smirking as she forced him onto the bed. His hands rested lazily behind his head, his body radiating satisfaction. “If you think this means you’re off the hook—”
“Oh, I’m definitely not off,” he quipped, grinning.
Enya rolled her eyes before she slowly took off her clothes. Straddling him, her hands sliding up his chest, nails grazing over his skin. She could feel his heartbeat beneath her palms, strong and steady.
She leaned down, her lips hovering just above his, and whispered, “Then let’s see if you’re still talking when I’m done with you.”
And just like that, the argument was over.

The second Enya straddled Jayden, she could feel the tension between them shift. The irritation from their earlier argument melted away, replaced by something far more primal. His hands instinctively found her hips, gripping her possessively as he looked up at her, amusement and arousal mixing in his dark eyes.
“So, what’s it gonna be, sweetheart?” he murmured, voice thick with anticipation.
Enya smirked, rolling her hips against him just enough to tease. “I think you need to be reminded that you don’t always get to be in control.”
Jayden exhaled sharply through his nose, the ghost of a chuckle slipping past his lips. “Oh yeah?”
Instead of answering, she moved down his body, dragging her nails along his abs before reaching the waistband of his jeans. She didn’t break eye contact as she slid them down, revealing exactly how affected he was by their little back-and-forth.
“Fuck,” Jayden muttered, lifting his hips to help her, but Enya pushed him back down with a firm hand.
“Patience.”

Jayden groaned, resting his head against the mattress as she took her time, running her fingertips along his length, barely touching him. She knew exactly what she was doing, and he knew she was enjoying every second of teasing him.
But his patience only lasted so long. When she finally wrapped her lips around the tip, a low growl rumbled from his chest. His fingers threaded into her hair, not guiding—yet—but his grip tightened with every inch she took.
Enya set a slow, torturous rhythm, her tongue swirling, her nails digging into his thighs just enough to keep him on edge. Jayden, usually so composed, was unraveling beneath her. His thighs tensed, his breath came out in ragged gasps, and the hand in her hair twitched like he was seconds away from snapping.

And then, just as he thought he might lose his mind, she pulled off with a soft pop and looked up at him through her lashes.
“What’s wrong, baby?” she teased, lips glossy, voice sweet and mocking. “I thought you wanted me to ride your face?”
Jayden's eyes darkened. “Get up here. Now.”
Enya grinned, moving to straddle his face, but he didn’t give her a chance to settle. His hands gripped her thighs, yanking her down against his mouth like a man starved.
The first flick of his tongue had her gasping, hands flying to the headboard for balance. Jayden worked like he had something to prove—slow, deep strokes, alternating between sucking and teasing, never letting up for a second. When her thighs started to tremble, he locked his arms around her waist, forcing her to take everything he gave.
“Oh my God—Jay—”

He hummed in response, the vibrations sending a sharp wave of pleasure through her. Her head fell back, her hips rocking instinctively. He let her use his mouth however she wanted, his grip tightening as she got closer.
And then, just when she thought she couldn’t take any more, he pulled her down even harder, tongue fucking her mercilessly until her body snapped.
Enya cried out, the world dissolving around her as pleasure crashed over her in waves. Her legs shook, her breath came in ragged pants, but Jayden didn’t stop—not until she was whimpering, overstimulated and completely spent.
She barely had time to recover before he flipped her onto her back, pinning her wrists above her head. His lips brushed against her ear, his voice dark and wrecked.
“Now, let’s see how many times I can make you do that again.”

A shiver rolled down her spine, anticipation coiling tight in her stomach.
Before she could even catch her breath, Jayden shifted, pinning her down more firmly with his weight. His lips ghosted down her jaw, his teeth grazing over her pulse point before trailing lower, sucking bruises into her skin, branding her.
"So fucking pretty when you come undone for me," he murmured, his hands dragging down her sides, nails scraping lightly over sensitive flesh.
One of his hands abandoned its hold on her wrists, trailing down her stomach, fingers tracing teasing patterns over her slick folds. He chuckled darkly when she shuddered, her hips jerking involuntarily toward his touch.
"Still so needy?" he taunted, his fingers slipping through her wetness, spreading it over her clit in slow, deliberate strokes. "Or maybe you just like being ruined?"
Enya whimpered, her legs instinctively falling open for him. "Jayden—"
"Shh," he hushed her, his voice a soothing contrast to the way his fingers curled inside her without warning.

Her back arched as he found that spot instantly, his fingers moving in slow, calculated strokes, coaxing her right back to the edge with humiliating ease. He watched her closely, drinking in every expression, every little sound she made.
"So fucking tight, sweetheart," he groaned, his thumb circling her clit just right. "Bet you’re ready to take my cock now, aren’t you?"
She barely had time to nod before he withdrew his fingers, leaving her aching and empty.
And then she felt it—the thick, blunt head of his cock dragging against her soaked entrance.
"Tell me you want it," he demanded, teasing her, barely pushing in before pulling back, making her desperate.
"I- want it," she gasped, squirming beneath him, trying to angle her hips to take him deeper.
"Yeah?" he murmured, the tip pressing in just enough to stretch her. "Then take it."
And fuck—she did.

With one slow, devastating thrust, he buried himself inside her, stretching her wide, forcing her body to accommodate every thick inch. A strangled moan tore from her throat as he bottomed out, his head dropping to her shoulder, groaning at how tight and warm she was around him.
"Jesus fucking Christ," he hissed, giving her only a moment to adjust before drawing back and snapping his hips forward again, dragging another broken cry from her lips.
The rhythm he set was ruthless. He fucked her into the mattress, deep and unrelenting, his hands pinning her wrists above her head as his cock hit that perfect spot over and over again.
"You’re gonna come for me again," he growled against her throat, his teeth scraping over her skin. "I can feel it—fuck, you’re squeezing me so goddamn tight."
She was close again, already, her body trembling, heat coiling dangerously low in her stomach.
"Jay—fuck, I—"
"I know, sweetheart," he murmured, "I got you. Let go."
And the second his fingers found her clit again, rubbing tight, fast circles, she shattered.

Pleasure crashed through her in white-hot waves, her entire body locking up before convulsing beneath him, her orgasm tearing through her so violently that she felt herself gush around him.
Jayden groaned at the feeling, cursing under his breath as he fucked her through it, pushing her past her peak, drawing it out until she was nothing but a trembling, incoherent mess beneath him.
She barely had time to recover before he shifted her legs higher, pushing her knees toward her chest, changing the angle just enough to make her gasp.
"One more," he rasped, his voice wrecked with need. "You can give me one more, can’t you?"
Enya could barely think, barely breathe, but when he started moving again, she knew she didn’t have a choice.
He was going to take everything from her.
And fuck—she wanted him to.

Jayden had barely given Enya time to recover before he flipped her around with ease and his hands were on her again. His fingertips had trailed down the curve of her spine, slow and deliberate, before gripping her hips with a bruising force. She had still been trembling, her breath uneven, her body slack against the bed—but that hadn’t saved her.
“Did you really think I was done with you?” His voice had been a low, mocking purr against her ear, and she had shuddered, the aftershocks of her last orgasm still making her twitch.
She had barely had the strength to lift her head, but she could feel him—still hard, still aching, pressing insistently against her soaked folds.
“Jay…” Her voice had been wrecked, barely more than a whimper.
“Shhh, sweetheart,” he had crooned, leaning down to kiss the nape of her neck. His lips had been deceptively gentle, a stark contrast to the way he had manhandled her, dragging her hips up and pressing her down onto her forearms. “You’ve been so good for me. But I know you’ve got one more in you.”

She had whined, but the way her body had reacted had told him everything he needed to know. She had still been soaked, her thighs trembling with anticipation.
“That’s my girl,” he had praised, his voice dark with satisfaction.
Then, without another word, he had buried himself inside her with a brutal thrust.
She had screamed, her fingers clutching at the sheets as he had filled her completely. He had been so deep, so thick, stretching her all over again when she had already been so sensitive.
“Fuck, look at you,” he had groaned, one hand sliding up her spine before tangling in her hair. He had yanked, just enough to make her arch her back, forcing her to take him even deeper. “You were made for this, weren’t you? Made for me?”
“Yes—yes, fuck—”

Her moans had been pure desperation as he had ruined her from behind, his hips snapping forward with merciless precision. The sound of skin slapping against skin had echoed through the room, filthy and obscene.
And God, the angle—he had been hitting that spot inside her with ruthless accuracy, and she had already been on the edge again, her body helpless against his onslaught.
“That’s it, baby,” he had coaxed, his free hand slipping between her legs, fingers finding her clit with practiced ease. He had rubbed in slow, deliberate circles, matching the rhythm of his thrusts. “Come on, Enya. Give me one more.”
Her whole body had locked up, the pleasure too much, too intense. She had choked on a sob as the orgasm had slammed into her, her walls clenching around him so tightly that he had lost it—his grip tightening, his thrusts turning wild and erratic as he had pounded her through her climax.

He had followed just moments later, burying himself as deep as he could go, his moan breaking into a shaky, breathless curse as he had spilled inside her. His whole body had shuddered, his grip on her tightening before it had softened, his hold turning tender instead of possessive.
For a moment, the only sound in the room had been their ragged breathing, the air thick with the scent of sweat and sex.
Then, finally, Jayden had let out a satisfied hum, leaning down to kiss her shoulder, his lips warm and lingering. “Fuck, sweetheart,” he had murmured, his voice rough but full of affection. “You’re so fucking perfect.”
Enya had made a soft, incoherent sound, barely able to function.
Jayden had chuckled, pressing another kiss to the nape of her neck. “Come on, love,” he had whispered, his tone turning impossibly gentle. “Let’s get you cleaned up.”

Jayden moved slowly, carefully easing out of her before gently lowering her onto the bed. His hands—so rough and unyielding just moments ago—now glided over her like she was something precious, his touch reverent.
Enya let out a soft, exhausted whimper, her body still trembling from the sheer wreckage he had left behind. She barely had the strength to open her eyes, her breath coming in slow, uneven pants.
Jayden shushed her gently, pressing a lingering kiss to her temple. “You did so good, sweetheart,” he murmured, his voice full of pure, unfiltered adoration.
He hated how dazed she looked right now. As much as it ruined him to see her so thoroughly spent, he also needed to make sure she was okay.
With the utmost care, he moved off the bed, disappearing into the bathroom. The sound of running water filled the air, and moments later, he returned with a warm, damp washcloth.

“Easy, baby,” he soothed when she made a tiny, tired noise of protest. “Just let me take care of you.”
He was gentle as he cleaned her up, murmuring soft praises the whole time. “You were incredible. So fucking beautiful.” His fingers brushed over her thighs, his touch featherlight, reverent. “You okay, love?”
Enya hummed, her lips curling into the tiniest smile. “Mmm… Floaty.”
Jayden grinned, his heart swelling. He tossed the washcloth aside, then slid into bed next to her, immediately wrapping her up in his arms. His warmth enveloped her, his scent—musky, familiar, safe—filling her senses.
She nuzzled into his chest, sighing in absolute contentment.
Jayden kissed the top of her head, his lips lingering. “I’ve got you,” he whispered. “Always.”
He pulled the blankets over them, one hand rubbing slow, soothing circles over her back. “You need anything, sweetheart?”
“Mmm. Just you.”
His heart clenched, the sheer tenderness of the moment nearly overwhelming him.
“Then you have me,” he murmured, pressing another soft kiss to her forehead.

They lay there in perfect silence for a while, tangled together, their breaths evening out. Jayden absently played with her hair, his fingers running through the damp strands, his touch light and soothing.
Just when he thought she had fallen asleep, Enya stirred.
Her voice was barely above a whisper, but there was a teasing lilt to it. “Next time, I bet you can get four out of me.”
Jayden let out a low, breathless laugh, his grip on her tightening. “Oh, sweetheart.” His lips brushed against her ear, his voice warm, playful, full of promise. “That sounds like a fucking challenge.”
And God help her—he was absolutely going to win.

Chapter Text

Liam sat in a café, his fingers gently tapping the side of his cup as he stared out the window, waiting for Daniel. The cozy interior buzzed with quiet chatter and the smell of freshly ground coffee beans, but his mind wandered back to his last therapy session. Progress, yes, but still so many tangled thoughts. So many doubts.
He felt his phone vibrate, breaking his train of thought. A text from Daniel.

You’re in luck. On my way. Shouldn’t be more than 10 minutes. Don’t get too comfortable with that coffee, I’ll be there to steal a sip.

Liam chuckled quietly to himself. He didn’t even mind. Daniel’s energy had a way of pulling him out of his head, even if it was just for a little while.
Not long after, the café door chimed as Daniel strode in, casually tossing his jacket over one shoulder. His eyes scanned the room before landing on Liam with that trademark grin.

“There you are!” Daniel said, his voice warm, a little teasing. “I knew it was you the moment I walked in—there’s this whole vibe around you, like ‘I’m here for a serious coffee’ and nothing else.”
Liam laughed, motioning to the empty seat across from him. “Take a seat, the coffee’s great here. The cake’s not bad either.”
“Dare I ask what kind of cake you got?” Daniel said, sliding into the seat and already eyeing the pastry selection.
“I’ve got a slice of chocolate hazelnut torte,” Liam replied with a grin. “Don’t know if it’s worth giving up a perfectly good coffee, but I’ll let you try.”
Daniel nodded approvingly, clearly interested in the cake more than anything. He looked like he had somewhere else to be, but clearly didn’t mind staying a bit longer. After a quick exchange about their orders, the conversation naturally shifted.
“So, therapy going well?” Daniel asked, taking a sip of his own coffee, his tone light but genuinely curious.
Liam shifted in his seat, catching the way Daniel was looking at him—there was no rush, no judgment, just the simple act of someone willing to listen.

“I mean, yeah,” Liam said, his voice a little unsure at first, “I’m making progress. It’s just—sometimes, I feel like I can’t shake these damn feelings of guilt. Like, I’m not doing enough, or I should’ve done things differently, you know? I know I shouldn’t keep holding onto it, but it’s like this thing that won’t let go.”
Daniel’s brow furrowed slightly, but he wasn’t about to let Liam stay in that mental space for long. “Yeah, well, guilt’s a tricky little bastard,” Daniel said with a quick shrug, his voice as casual as ever. “But here’s the thing—if you don’t let go, it’ll keep holding you back. You can’t live like that. At some point, you gotta say: enough. Forgive yourself. Not for anyone else. Just for you.”
Liam took in a deep breath, nodding. Daniel always seemed to know how to simplify things, how to put them into perspective.
“You’re right,” Liam murmured, more to himself than to Daniel. “I know I have to let go, but sometimes it feels like the past is so... overwhelming.”
“Yeah, the past’s a bitch like that,” Daniel agreed. “But you can’t let it keep dragging you around by the ankles. That’s why we’re here, right? To move forward, not keep tripping over things you can’t change.”
Liam smiled, feeling a bit lighter. It was simple advice, but damn, did it help.

Just as the conversation lulled, Daniel leaned back in his chair with a mischievous grin.
“Look, man,” Daniel said, looking at Liam and then the air around them, “You’ve got the whole ‘emotional healing’ thing going on, meanwhile I’m just trying to not get stuck being the guy who only gets texted for 'therapy sessions' and not, you know, anything actually interesting. I’m like an NPC in a story. At least you’re getting all the sex scenes, bro. Jealous.”
Liam blinked, caught off guard for a second, before the realization hit him, and then he couldn’t help but burst out laughing.
“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” Liam said, chuckling. “Well, if you want some action, just let me know. You know I’m down to make sure your story gets way more exciting.”
Daniel’s eyes widened dramatically, and he feigned innocence. “Oh? You offering? Because, well, if it’s just for the plot—who am I to refuse?”
Liam shook his head, laughing harder now, the tension from earlier completely melted away.
“Don’t get any ideas,” he teased, shaking his head. “But, really... thanks, man. For listening.”
Daniel’s grin softened into something more genuine. “Anytime, mate. You know I’ve got your back.”

The sky slowly cleared as Liam and Daniel walked along the empty trail through a park. The sun peeked out shyly from behind the clouds, casting occasional golden rays on the ground. The fresh air filled their lungs, bringing with it a hint of spring, though it didn’t quite reflect Liam's mood.
“You know,” Liam started after a long silence, “I still have no idea how I’m supposed to feel about all of this. The move, the new life... it just feels so permanent. Like I can never really run away again. You know what I mean?”
Daniel nodded knowingly, his steps steady beside him. “I get it. It’s like you’re tying yourself to something without a backup plan. But that’s the point, Li. You can always leave if it doesn’t work out. You’re a free spirit; nobody can take that from you.”
Liam scoffed, unconvinced. “Doesn’t feel that way. Everything’s pulling in one direction, and I... I feel like I’m up against a wall. No way out.”

Daniel smiled, a crooked, almost teasing grin that seemed to break through the dark thoughts swirling in Liam’s head. “You know what you need right now?” he asked, stepping a little closer. “Something to distract you. Something to clear your head.”
Liam raised an eyebrow, skeptical. “Really? And what do you have in mind?”
“I can offer you something that no one does better than me,” Daniel said with a wink. “Are you sure you’re ready?”
Liam sighed but couldn’t help the faint smile tugging at his lips. “Okay, surprise me.”
“Alright,” Daniel replied, pulling Liam in closer and whispering in his ear, “Forget about the fact that you were just a few minutes ago feeling like the world was falling apart. Instead... how about you just focus on me?”
Liam chuckled softly, but part of him knew it was more than just a distraction. It was a reminder that he wasn’t alone, that there were still moments of lightness and connection, even in the hard times.
“You’re impossible,” Liam muttered, pulling Daniel in a little closer. The sun bathed the trail in soft light as if the world was giving them a brief pause to catch their breath.

Daniel’s fingers brushed lightly against Liam’s, and before Liam could protest, Daniel had taken his hand firmly in his, leading him off the trail. They veered off the main path into a secluded, shadowy alley between the trees. The sunlight, now struggling to pierce the thick canopy above, dimmed, casting them into a soft, almost intimate twilight.
Liam glanced at Daniel, his heart pounding slightly faster than usual. “Where are we going?”
Daniel’s grin only widened. “Somewhere you won’t be thinking about anything else.”
Liam couldn’t help but let himself be guided, though his mind was still heavy with the worries that had been weighing on him. But with Daniel’s steady hand in his and the rhythmic sound of their footsteps on the dirt path, the world seemed a little less overwhelming.
As they reached the narrow end of the alley, the air felt cooler, more enclosed, almost private. Daniel paused, turning to face Liam, his eyes full of that same playful yet intense look that always made Liam’s heart skip a beat.
“I told you, didn’t I?” Daniel murmured, stepping closer. “That I know how to get your mind off things.”

Liam glanced down at Daniel, who had to tilt his head back to meet his gaze. There was an instant tension in the air, an unspoken invitation. “You’re not thinking about this right now, are you?” Liam asked quietly, his voice betraying his uncertainty.
Daniel simply smiled, his hand sliding up to Liam’s jaw. He took a small step forward, then another, and soon enough, he was standing on his toes, his fingers threading through Liam’s hair.
“Just trust me,” Daniel whispered, his breath warm against Liam’s skin. Without waiting for another word, he pulled Liam down toward him, closing the distance between them.
The kiss was slow at first, hesitant, as if both were giving the other space to decide whether to push further. But it didn’t take long for the intensity to build, and Liam found himself leaning into Daniel, his own hands moving to rest against his chest, feeling the steady thrum of his heartbeat.
Daniel’s fingers slid to the back of Liam’s neck, pulling him deeper into the kiss, and for a moment, Liam forgot everything—the move, the permanent feeling, the fears that had plagued him. It was just them, wrapped in the quiet of the alley, caught in the kiss that spoke louder than words.
When they finally pulled away, both were breathless, their foreheads resting together in the cool, shadowed space. Daniel’s thumb gently traced the line of Liam’s jaw, his voice a low whisper. “You’re not alone in this, okay? You don’t have to carry it all by yourself.”
Liam closed his eyes, a sense of warmth spreading through him, and nodded slowly. The weight on his chest, though still there, didn’t feel as heavy. Not anymore.

Daniel’s smirk was pure sin as he backed Liam against the cool brick wall of a secluded alleyway. His fingers traced slow, teasing patterns over Liam’s chest, his voice dropping to a sultry whisper.
"You’re overthinking again," he murmured, his lips ghosting just over Liam’s jaw. "I can practically hear the gears turning in that pretty little head of yours."
Liam huffed a laugh, but it was shaky, his hands gripping Daniel’s hips as if to steady himself. "Can you blame me?" he muttered. "Everything’s changing so damn fast."
Daniel tilted his head, feigning deep contemplation. "Mmm… I could, but I’d rather help you shut your brain off for a while." His hand slid lower, fingers dancing over Liam’s belt. His smirk widened. "Let me take care of you, yeah?"
Liam swallowed hard, heat pooling low in his belly. "You’re a menace."
Daniel chuckled, dropping to his knees with an effortless grace that sent a thrill down Liam’s spine. "And yet, you love it."
Liam had no time to respond before Daniel was tugging open his belt, fingers working with practiced ease. The alley was quiet, only the distant sounds of the city in the background, but right now, all Liam could focus on was the warmth of Daniel’s breath against his skin, the way his eyes darkened with anticipation.
"Relax," Daniel purred, pressing a kiss just below Liam’s navel. "Let me make you forget everything else."

Daniel took his sweet time, teasing Liam with soft, fleeting kisses along his lower abdomen, his tongue flicking out just enough to make him shudder. He looked up, those deep blue eyes filled with wicked amusement.
"Impatient already?" he murmured, his fingers tracing the outline of Liam’s hardening length through his jeans.
Liam’s breath hitched, his hands curling into fists at his sides. "If you're gonna do it, just—"
"Ah, ah," Daniel interrupted, clicking his tongue. "I set the pace here, love."
With agonizing slowness, he unzipped Liam’s jeans, tugging them down just enough to free him. His fingers wrapped around Liam’s length, stroking lazily as he let his warm breath ghost over the sensitive skin.
Liam cursed under his breath, his head falling back against the brick wall. "Fucking tease."
Daniel only chuckled before finally leaning in, his tongue dragging along the underside of Liam’s cock in one long, torturous stroke. He swirled his tongue over the tip, savoring the taste, his own arousal surging at the deep, needy groan that tore from Liam’s throat.
"God, you’re perfect like this," Daniel murmured before taking him into his mouth, his lips stretching around Liam’s thick length, sinking down inch by inch.
Liam’s breath came in ragged gasps as he tangled his fingers in Daniel’s dark curls. "Shit, Dan—"

Daniel hummed around him, sending vibrations straight through Liam’s core. His hands gripped Liam’s thighs, keeping him pinned against the wall as he set a slow, torturous rhythm, his tongue working in sinful patterns.
Liam’s knees nearly buckled as Daniel took him even deeper, his throat tightening around him in a way that had Liam seeing stars. "Fuck—"
Daniel pulled back slightly, his lips glistening as he looked up with a smug, wrecked grin. "You taste so fucking good," he whispered before diving back down, hollowing his cheeks as he sucked harder, his fingers digging into Liam’s hips.
Liam was unraveling fast, his body tense with pleasure, his grip on Daniel’s hair tightening as he fought against the urge to thrust. "You—shit, you need to stop unless you want me to—"
Daniel moaned around him in response, the vibrations tipping Liam over the edge. With a strangled gasp, he came, his entire body trembling as Daniel swallowed every drop, milking him through the aftershocks before finally pulling back, licking his lips with a satisfied hum.
Liam was breathless, dazed, completely wrecked as he stared down at Daniel, who simply smirked and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.
"You were saying something about stress?" Daniel teased, standing up and adjusting Liam’s jeans with a little too much self-satisfaction. "Still feel tense?"
Liam let out a breathless laugh, shaking his head. "Stress? What stress? What does that even mean?"
Daniel grinned, pressing a quick, teasing kiss to the corner of Liam’s mouth. "Just as I thought."

Liam let out another breathless giggle, still leaning against the wall, his legs barely holding him up. Daniel, ever the smug bastard, simply smirked and straightened his own clothes, looking far too pleased with himself.
Liam ran a hand through his messy hair, shaking his head with amusement. "And you think you're just a fucking NPC?" he teased, giving Daniel a pointed look.
Daniel raised an eyebrow. "Well, compared to you, I—"
"Trust the process, mate," Liam interrupted, still catching his breath. "I'm pretty damn sure the author has a lot more planned for you."
Daniel blinked, his expression flickering between confusion and realization before he scoffed, rolling his eyes. "Oh, fuck off."
Liam just grinned. "Nah, I think you just need to be patient. Maybe your next scene will be your turn to get absolutely wrecked."
Daniel snorted, shoving Liam playfully before walking ahead. "I swear to God, you and that damn meta commentary…"
Liam chuckled, stuffing his hands into his pockets as he followed. "Hey, at least I get all the good sex scenes."
Daniel groaned dramatically. "I hate you."
"Love you too, mate."

Liam stepped through the front door, kicking off his boots with a sigh. The café meet-up had been nice—better than expected, actually—but he was ready to just chill in his room for a bit. Maybe throw on some music, scroll through his phone, not think about things for a while.
And then he heard it.
A very distinct, very rhythmic sound coming from Jayden’s bedroom.
Liam froze mid-step, his fingers tightening on the strap of his bag.
“Oh, for fuck’s sake…” he muttered under his breath.
As if on cue, a particularly breathless moan echoed down the hallway. Liam groaned, dragging a hand down his face. Of course. Of course, they were at it again.
He made a beeline for the kitchen, determined to get a drink and pretend he hadn’t just walked into a live recording of Jayden Wrecks Enya: Volume 7. But just as he grabbed a glass, a deep, husky growl rumbled through the walls:
"Come on, Enya. Give me one more."

Liam paused, glass halfway to his lips.
Then came a broken, desperate whimper from Enya, so wrecked and overstimulated that even he winced in sympathy.
He took a long, slow sip of water, staring blankly at the counter.
…How many has he already gotten out of her?
Shaking his head, Liam finished his drink in one go, muttering, “Show-off,” under his breath before heading straight to his room.
He shut the door behind him with a firm click, sealing himself away from whatever final round was still going on down the hall.
With a sigh, he dropped onto his bed and ran a hand through his hair. His headphones were right there, within reach, but before he could grab them, he heard a scratching sound on his door before it nudged open. A black snout peeked through the gap, followed by a pair of bright, eager eyes.
“Hey, Gremlin,” Liam said, patting his bed in invitation.
The dog wasted no time, hopping up onto the mattress and wriggling his way into Liam’s lap. He let out a contented huff, pushing his head against Liam’s chest.

Liam chuckled, setting his drink aside and running his fingers through Gremlin’s thick fur. “At least someone in this house isn’t getting absolutely railed tonight.”
Gremlin made a little snorting sound, licking Liam’s wrist.
“Yeah, yeah, I know,” Liam murmured, scratching behind his ears. “I shouldn’t be bitter about it. But come on, some of us would like to pretend this place isn’t a damn porno set.”
Gremlin huffed again, then settled his chin against Liam’s thigh.
Liam sat there for a while, absently stroking the dog’s fur, letting the warmth seep into him. It was grounding—just existing in this moment, without thinking too much about what came next.
But eventually, the reality of the move crept back in.
With a sigh, he shifted, carefully moving Gremlin off his lap. “Alright, bud. Time to get my shit together.”
Gremlin gave him a look that was suspiciously close to judgmental, but he just wagged his tail and curled up on the bed as Liam stood and grabbed a flattened cardboard box from the pile in the corner.

He set to work, unfolding it and taping the edges. Then another. And another.
As he started pulling clothes from his closet, folding them into neat stacks, his mind drifted.
This is happening.
And that was what unsettled him the most. He wasn’t leaving Jayden and Enya—he was committing to a life with them. To a home that wasn’t just a temporary place to crash, but something that actually belonged to them. To him.
He hadn’t had that before. Not really.
And what if it didn’t work? What if he felt trapped?
He exhaled through his nose, pressing his fingers against the folded fabric beneath his hands.
It doesn’t have to be forever.
That thought made it easier to breathe.
Nothing was forever. Not if he didn’t want it to be.
But maybe… maybe that wasn’t the worst thing.
Maybe this was a fresh start. A chance to leave behind all the baggage, the guilt, the goddamn weight of everything he’d been carrying.
He couldn’t change the past.
But the future?
That was still his to shape.

Chapter Text

A faint clink echoed through the apartment, barely loud enough to register, but enough to stir Enya from sleep. Her eyelids fluttered, her mind sluggish from the remnants of sleep, but something about the sound sent a ripple of unease through her.
She turned onto her side, reaching out instinctively to Jayden, who was lying beside her, his breathing deep and steady. "Jay?" she whispered, giving his arm a gentle shake. No response. He was out cold.
Another sound followed—something shifting, like a glass rolling on the wooden floor. Enya’s stomach clenched. Carefully, she peeled the blankets away and slipped out of bed, stepping barefoot into the cool hallway.
The apartment was cloaked in darkness, save for the faint orange glow of a streetlamp filtering through the living room window. Her pulse quickened as she saw a shadow standing by the couch.
It was Liam.

He was facing the window, his posture rigid, arms hanging loosely at his sides. His chest rose and fell in steady breaths, but there was something unsettling about the way he stood—utterly still, yet tense, as if caught in some invisible battle.
Then he spoke, his voice hushed but rough around the edges.
"It’s my fault… I couldn’t protect you."
Enya’s heart clenched.
"Liam?" she called softly. No reaction. He just stood there, eyes open, yet unfocused, staring at nothing.
"I let you down. Just like Lexy. First her… now you."
A cold chill crawled down Enya’s spine. She swallowed hard and took a cautious step forward. "Liam," she tried again, her voice steadier this time. "What are you talking about?"

Still, he didn’t wake. But his lips parted again, and this time his words sent a sharp pang through her chest.
"I always let them down. Every time. I can’t protect anyone."
The sorrow in his voice was almost unbearable. Enya reached out carefully, her fingers brushing against his arm. His skin was warm but clammy, his muscles slightly tense under her touch.
"That’s not true," she whispered. "You haven't let anyone down, Liam. Lexy and I—" Her voice hitched. "We’re lucky to have you in our lives."
Liam’s brow furrowed slightly, his expression twitching as if caught in a dream.
"Really?" His voice wavered.
Enya nodded, even though she knew he couldn't really see her. "Really."
For a moment, silence stretched between them. Then, slowly, she reached for his hand. "Come on, let’s get you back to bed, yeah?"

Liam didn’t resist as she led him toward his room. He followed her in slow, sleep-heavy steps, his grip on her hand loose but compliant.
She helped him onto the bed, adjusting the blanket over him. His body relaxed almost instantly, sinking into the mattress. Enya lingered for a moment, watching as his breaths evened out. The tension in his face softened, the weight of his subconscious worries temporarily lifted.
Brushing a stray curl from his forehead, she sighed quietly before slipping out of the room, her heart still heavy.
As she climbed back into bed beside Jayden, she curled into his warmth, but sleep didn’t come easily. Liam’s words echoed in her mind, a quiet ache settling deep in her chest.
Tomorrow, she would talk to him.
Tomorrow, she’d make sure he knew he wasn’t alone.

The next morning, the kitchen was filled with the comforting aroma of freshly brewed coffee and toasted bread. Enya sat at the table, idly stirring a spoon through her bowl of cereal, her thoughts lingering on the events of the night before. Jayden, still half-asleep, nursed his coffee in silence, while Liam attacked his plate of eggs and bacon with the enthusiasm of a man who had just run a marathon in his dreams.
Enya hesitated for a moment before clearing her throat. "Liam?"
"Mm?" he mumbled around a mouthful of toast.
She glanced at Jayden, who raised a brow but said nothing, waiting to see where this was going. "You were sleepwalking last night."
Liam barely paused mid-bite, then shrugged. "Huh. Guess I really do have hidden talents."
Enya sighed. "I’m serious, Liam. I found you in the living room. You were talking in your sleep."
Jayden perked up at that. "What was he saying?"
Enya hesitated, glancing at Liam before answering. "Stuff about how he can’t protect anyone. How he’s disappointed people—me, Lexy."

Liam’s chewing slowed, and for a second, his mask slipped. "Sounds dramatic," he muttered, setting his toast down. "Are you sure you didn’t dream it?"
Enya gave him a flat look. "Liam."
He exhaled sharply, rubbing a hand down his face. "Fine. So I was being a bit of a tragic poet in my sleep. What do you want me to do about it?"
"Talk to Dr. Carter," she said firmly. "It could be stress, or something deeper. You should at least mention it."
Jayden nodded in agreement, his fingers tapping idly against his coffee mug. "Yeah, man. Sleepwalking can get dangerous. You don’t want to wake up doing something you regret."
Liam rolled his eyes. "Like what? Raiding the fridge in my sleep?"
Jayden smirked. "Or walking into my room at the wrong moment. Believe me, that would traumatize you more than any nightmare."
Liam groaned dramatically. "Okay, okay! I’ll tell Carter. Happy?"
"Ecstatic," Enya said dryly, finally taking a bite of her cereal.

The tension eased, and the conversation shifted to lighter topics—Jayden teasing Liam about his unholy love for ketchup on eggs, Gremlin hopping onto Liam’s lap in hopes of snagging a bite, and Enya trying (and failing) to keep the dog from stealing a strip of bacon from Jayden’s plate.
The night’s worries weren’t completely gone, but at least now, they were acknowledged. And sometimes, that was the first step toward fixing them.

After they had finished their leisurely breakfast, the time had finally come! The Big Move! The apartment was in complete disarray—half-packed boxes stacked against the walls, furniture wrapped in protective sheets, and a palpable mix of excitement and chaos in the air. The new house was waiting, but first, they had to get everything loaded into the moving trucks.
Enya stood in the middle of the living room, hands on her hips, scanning the mess with a determined look. “Alright, troops, let’s do this.”
Liam, stretching his arms above his head, smirked. “Are you our commander now?”
Jayden strolled in, a coffee in one hand and a box labeled Kitchen Crap in the other. “She’s always been the boss. We just pretend otherwise.”
Enya shot him a look but grinned. Gremlin darted between their legs, yipping excitedly as if he, too, was aware of the change happening.

Outside, two rental trucks were parked, their back doors open and ready to be filled. Michael and Daniel had already arrived, with Lexy expected to show up later. Michael leaned against the truck, arms crossed. “Took you long enough. I was about to start charging you for waiting time.”
Daniel snickered. “Mate, you’d never get paid. We all know you have the patience of a five-year-old.”
Michael flipped him off, but the banter was light, good-natured.
Inside, the group split up—Jayden and Liam tackled the heavier furniture while Enya and Daniel handled the more fragile boxes. Gremlin, of course, supervised, mostly by trying to climb into open boxes and sniffing everything.
“Oi, Liam!” Jayden called as they maneuvered the couch through the door. “If you drop your end, I’m making you sleep outside tonight.”
Liam grunted. “I’d like to see you try, pretty boy.”

They managed to get everything loaded without major disasters—except for one near miss where a box of Enya’s vinyl collection almost tipped over, which led to a five-minute emergency rescue mission.
By early afternoon, the trucks were full, the apartment echoing with emptiness. Enya took a deep breath, looking around. “Feels weird, doesn’t it?”
Jayden wrapped an arm around her shoulders. “Yeah. But it’s a good weird.”
Liam clapped his hands together. “Alright, let’s get this show on the road before someone gets emotional.”
Lexy, who had arrived just in time, snorted. “Too late, Drama Queen.”
With that, they piled into the trucks, ready to start the next chapter in their new home.

Michael was behind the wheel, with Lexy riding shotgun and Daniel in the back, already regretting his life choices.
Lexy leaned back in her seat, stretching her legs out with a content sigh. “Ahh, I love road trips. The open road, good company… and a sexy driver to stare at.”
Michael smirked but kept his eyes on the road. “Oh yeah? I thought you just liked the way I grip the steering wheel.”
Daniel groaned loudly. “For fuck’s sake, I did not sign up to be third-wheeling your foreplay session.”
Lexy turned in her seat to grin at him. “Oh, Danny-boy, we’re just getting started.”
Michael hummed, glancing at Lexy. “You do seem awfully interested in my hands today.”
Lexy, absolutely shameless, smirked. “Well, I was thinking about how good they felt last ni—”
Daniel threw his head back against the seat dramatically. “I swear to God, if you finish that sentence, I’m jumping out of this car.”
Michael chuckled, but Lexy just winked at Daniel. “You love us, admit it.”
“Love is a strong word,” Daniel muttered, but his lips twitched into a reluctant smile.

Meanwhile, in the second vehicle, things were far less subtle.
Jayden was driving with Enya in the passenger seat, while Liam was sprawled in the back with Gremlin happily lounging across his lap.
Liam let out an exaggerated sigh. “So, why do I get stuck with you two lovebirds while Daniel has to suffer alone with Lexy?”
Enya smirked. “Would you really want to be in a car with her right now?”
Liam considered it for a moment before shuddering. “Yeah, maybe not.”
Jayden chuckled. “Besides, you should be grateful. You get to ride with the responsible adults.”
Liam snorted. “Jay, mate, you and Enya were so loud last night that I had to physically leave the apartment just to keep my sanity.”
Enya turned bright red. “Liam!”
Jayden just grinned. “Oh, come on, don’t act like you weren’t impressed.”
Liam groaned, dramatically flopping against the seat. “I hate you both.”

Gremlin, completely oblivious to the conversation, chose that moment to climb up onto Liam’s chest and start enthusiastically licking his face.
Liam grumbled, pushing the dog away halfheartedly. “Ugh, at least you don’t make me suffer, Gremlin.”
Jayden chuckled. “No, but he does take after his dad.”
Enya burst into laughter while Liam shot Jayden a look of pure betrayal. “I am never forgiving you for this.”
Liam was still dramatically sulking in the backseat, Gremlin curled up on his lap. Meanwhile, Enya had her phone out, typing furiously. A few seconds later, she snorted loudly.
Jayden glanced over. “What?”
Enya smirked, tilting her phone so Jayden could see the message she had just sent to Lexy in the other car.

Enya: Rate my driving: 1-10
Lexy’s reply was almost instant.
Lexy: Negative 200. Are you even holding the wheel or just letting Jesus take it?
Enya burst into laughter. “Lexy says I drive like a menace.”
Jayden raised an eyebrow. “You’re not even driving.”
Enya grinned. “Doesn’t matter, she just knows.”
A second later, Lexy sent another message.
Lexy: Tell Jay he better not be speeding, or I’m kicking his ass when we get there.
Enya turned to Jayden with a dramatic gasp. “Lexy says you need to slow the fuck down.”
Jayden scoffed. “I’m literally going the speed limit.”
Liam leaned forward. “That does feel suspiciously slow for you, mate.”
Jayden rolled his eyes. “Unlike some people, I don’t have a death wish.”
Enya typed out another response.
Enya: He says he’s going the speed limit like some kind of law-abiding citizen. Disgusting.
A few seconds later, Lexy’s reply came through.
Lexy: Shameful. No wonder Liam heard you two last night—you weren’t fast enough to tire him out.
Enya choked on air.
Jayden, meanwhile, cackled so hard that he briefly swerved the car.
Liam threw his hands up. “Oi, what the fuck! If you’re gonna die laughing, pull over first.”
Enya, still gasping for air, furiously typed back.
Enya: I hate you so much. Die.
Lexy’s response?
Lexy: You love me, ho.

Daniel watched Lexy text with a look of pure skepticism. “What the hell are you doing?”
Lexy smirked, wiggling her phone in his direction. “Just making sure Enya suffers.”
Michael, keeping his eyes on the road, snorted. “Why do I feel like this involves me somehow?”
Lexy leaned back, stretching smugly. “Oh, don’t worry, Mikey. I just reminded Enya that she was very loud last night.”
Daniel groaned. “Ugh, why would you do that? Now she’s gonna be self-conscious, and Jayden’s gonna make it worse.”
Lexy grinned. “That’s exactly why.”
Michael shook his head. “You are a menace.”
Lexy winked. “And you love it.”
Daniel sighed dramatically. “Can’t believe I’m stuck in this car while those three idiots are having their own sitcom in the other one.”
Michael chuckled. “You say that like you don’t enjoy the chaos.”
Daniel huffed. “I do enjoy the chaos. I just wish I could pick which chaos.”
Lexy smirked. “Careful what you wish for, Danny-boy. There’s still plenty of drive left.”
Just then, her phone buzzed again.
Enya: You’re the fucking worst.
Lexy cackled. “And I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

Chapter Text

As soon as Jayden pulled into the driveway, Enya practically vibrated in her seat. The moment the car came to a stop, she threw open the door, unbuckled Gremlin, and let him down.
"Go on, boy! Check it out!" she encouraged, laughing as the dog launched himself out of the lorry and bolted across the front yard. His tiny legs moved at lightning speed as he sniffed every inch of grass, thoroughly investigating his new kingdom.
Jayden barely had time to open the cargo hold before Enya sprinted past him toward the backyard. "Gremmy! Come see the garden!"
Liam watched the scene unfold and shook his head. “She’s gone. We lost her.”
Jayden huffed a laugh. “We knew the risks.”
Behind them, the second moving truck pulled up. Lexy practically threw her door open and stretched her arms with a loud groan. “Ugh, finally! If I had to sit next to Daniel's judgmental ass for one more mile, I would have strangled him.”
Daniel stepped out behind her, smirking. “Admit it, you loved my company.”
Lexy rolled her eyes. “I tolerated it. Barely.”
Michael clapped his hands together. “Alright, people! Let’s figure out how we’re doing this before we all get distracted.”

Everyone gathered near the moving trucks, staring at the mountain of furniture and boxes.
“Okay,” Jayden began, cracking his knuckles. “How are we splitting this up?”
Lexy raised a hand. “I vote the big strong men handle the furniture while us delicate, fragile women—” she batted her lashes dramatically, “—deal with the boxes.”
Michael snorted. “Delicate and fragile, my ass.”
Liam nodded. “Sounds fair. No offense, but I don’t trust either of you to carry anything heavier than a lamp.”
Enya, who had just returned with a very excited Gremlin at her feet, smirked. “That’s fine by me. It just means Lexy and I get front-row seats to watching you idiots struggle.”
Lexy grinned. “Oh, hell yeah. I love watching men suffer.”
Jayden sighed. “We’re never gonna hear the end of it, are we?”
Liam shook his head. “Not a chance, mate.”

Daniel clapped his hands together. “Alright, ladies, find something productive to do. The rest of us have work to do.”
Lexy patted his shoulder. “Oh, Danny-boy. Sweet, sweet Danny-boy. Watching is productive.”
And with that, she and Enya grabbed two lawn chairs from a nearby stack, plopped them down in the shade, and made themselves comfortable.
Michael groaned. “We are never going to live this down.”
Enya grinned. “Nope. Now hurry up, boys. I wanna see some sweat.”

Jayden wiped the sweat from his forehead and sighed as he hoisted one end of the heavy-ass couch with Liam. “I swear to God, if they don’t stop giggling, I’m dropping this thing.”
From the comfort of their lawn chairs, Enya and Lexy sat, drinks in hand, watching the absolute struggle unfold before them. Gremlin lay between them, chewing on a stick, looking about as amused as they were.
“Oh, come on, boys,” Lexy teased. “Put some back into it! You call that effort?”
Liam shot her a glare. “I swear, Lexy—”
“I mean, really, a couch?” Enya added, tilting her head. “You two look like you’re trying to lift a whole-ass car.”
Daniel, who was struggling with a bookshelf nearby, groaned. “Would one of you help instead of heckling?”
Lexy gasped, placing a hand over her heart. “Excuse you, we are helping. We’re providing moral support.”
“Is that what you call this?” Michael grunted as he and Daniel wrestled a particularly stubborn wardrobe out of the truck.
Enya leaned forward, tapping her chin in thought. “You know, Lexy, I think we should make this interesting.”
Lexy’s eyes lit up. “Ohhh, you’re right! We should make a competition out of this.”
Jayden let out an exhausted laugh. “I don’t like where this is going.”
Ignoring him completely, Lexy pulled out her phone. “Alright, here’s how it works! We’ll be scoring you on three very important categories: Strength, Efficiency, and—most importantly—Sex Appeal.”
Liam blinked. “You’re joking.”
“Absolutely not,” Enya said, deadly serious. “Winner gets… I don’t know, a free drink of their choice. Loser? Eternal shame.”
Daniel groaned, but Michael—Michael perked up. “Sex appeal, huh?” He flexed his arms dramatically, posing like a bodybuilder. “Well, you did just make this interesting.”
Lexy rolled her eyes. “God, you’re insufferable.” But she was smiling.
“Alright, alright,” Jayden cut in. “If this gets you two to shut up, then fine. But we’re not stopping until everything is inside.”
Lexy clapped her hands together. “Let the Muscle Olympics begin!”

The guys—whether they admitted it or not—were absolutely putting more effort into it now.
Liam, being the tallest, took on the bigger items, lifting and maneuvering furniture with a determined scowl. Daniel, smaller but quick, darted between the truck and the house, efficiently grabbing boxes before anyone else could. Jayden, ever graceful even under pressure, moved with ease, his strength showing without unnecessary flexing.
Michael, however—Michael was a menace.
He made direct eye contact with Lexy as he picked up a particularly heavy-looking box, deliberately rolling up his sleeves. “Watch closely, ladies,” he said, voice low and smug.
Lexy looked at Enya. “Should we deduct points for blatant showing off?”
Enya considered. “Mmm… I don’t know. He is making it look good.”
Michael smirked. “That’s two points in sex appeal, then.”
Daniel, breathless from carrying too many boxes at once, scowled. “This is stupid.”
“You’re just mad ‘cause you’re losing,” Liam shot back, adjusting his grip on a heavy bookshelf.
“Oh, bite me.”

Lexy checked her imaginary scoreboard. “Daniel: 5/10 Strength, 9/10 Efficiency, 4/10 Sex Appeal.”
Daniel’s jaw dropped. “Four?! Four?! I’m sorry, what?”
Lexy shrugged. “I don’t make the rules.”
“You literally just made the rules.”
Liam chuckled before setting down a chair and rolling his shoulders. “Alright, ladies, what’s my score?”
Enya pretended to look thoughtful. “Hmm… Strong start, good posture, very broody…”
Lexy nodded. “Mmm, but not quite enough flair. I’ll say… 7/10 Strength, 7/10 Efficiency, 6/10 Sex Appeal.”
Liam scoffed. “Six? I’m taller than all of them!”
Enya grinned. “It’s not about height, it’s about presence.”
Daniel snickered. “Sucks, doesn’t it?”
Michael wiped his forehead dramatically, then turned directly to Lexy. “And me?”
Lexy exhaled, pretending to think. “…8/10 Strength, 7/10 Efficiency… 10/10 Sex Appeal.”
Daniel actually threw his box down. “Oh, come on!”
Michael grinned way too wide. “Oh? That’s interesting. That’s very interesting.”
Lexy huffed. “Don’t make this weird.”

Jayden—who had been quietly, steadily moving the heaviest furniture without a single complaint—finally dropped the last piece into place. He stretched, rolled his neck, and then turned to Enya with a smirk. “Well?”
Enya smiled sweetly. “10/10 Strength, 10/10 Efficiency…” She paused dramatically.
Jayden raised a brow. “And?”
She leaned in just enough for him to hear. “11/10 Sex Appeal.”
Jayden’s smirk widened. “That’s all I needed to hear.”
Daniel groaned loudly. “I hate this game.”
Lexy grinned. “Alright, boys, the Muscle Olympics are officially over. Winner: Jayden. Loser: Daniel.”
Daniel grumbled. “Whatever. I’m getting a drink.”
Michael threw an arm over his shoulders. “Aw, don’t be salty, mate. You did your best.”
Lexy smirked. “You all did great. Now go shower. You stink.”
Jayden wiped his hands on his jeans and looked at Enya. “So… where’s my prize?”
Enya winked. “Later, babe.”
Michael, still smug, stretched lazily. “So, now that all the actual work is done, I say it’s time to celebrate. Who’s up for a housewarming party?”

By the time the guys had finally finished their heavy lifting, they collapsed onto the couch and floor with loud sighs. Jayden wiped the sweat from his forehead while Daniel dramatically lifted his shirt to fan himself. Liam stretched his arms over his head, his muscles still tense from carrying all the furniture. Michael leaned against the wall, exhaling deeply, clearly satisfied with himself.
But their relief was short-lived.
“Boys…” Enya placed her hands on her hips and scanned the chaos around them critically. “I didn’t expect much, but THIS… is a disaster.”
Lexy snorted in amusement. “No shit, Ny-Ny. It looks like they just dumped everything wherever and hoped it would magically arrange itself.”
Jayden, who had just thrown a towel around his neck, raised a brow. “And what exactly is the problem? Everything’s inside, isn’t it?”
“Yes, but in completely nonsensical places!” Enya pointed at a chair awkwardly standing in the hallway and a nightstand that had somehow ended up in the kitchen. “How are we supposed to throw a housewarming party like this?”
Lexy sighed dramatically and rolled up her sleeves. “Alright. Come on, Ny-Ny, it’s our turn now. Let’s show these boys how it’s really done.”

With synchronized movements, they shoved the guys aside and got to work. Enya dragged a box into the corner of the living room while Lexy pushed an armchair into place. As they worked, they threw comments at each other, ones that not only entertained the men but also Gremlin.
“Oh, look, Ny-Ny. Here’s the coffee table. I could’ve sworn it was a wardrobe.”
“Well, can you blame them? Men and logical thinking exist in two separate universes.”
“Hey!” Liam protested, but Daniel’s amused grin overpowered him.
“Let them be,” the guitarist said with a lazy shrug. “We did our job. Now they can prove what they’re made of.”
As the girls took over, Jayden was the first to disappear toward the bathroom. “I’m gonna shower. I can’t stand my own smell anymore.”
One by one, the others followed—first Liam, then Daniel. Michael, however, stayed close. Every time Lexy wasn’t occupied with a box or a piece of furniture, he found an opportunity to sneak up beside her.
“You’re doing a really good job,” he murmured into her ear once, appearing behind her out of nowhere.
Lexy barely flinched, immediately countering, “Oh, I know. I’m a natural.”
Michael grinned. “And multitasking? I wonder if you’re just as good at it under… different circumstances.”
Lexy shot him a knowing look before casually placing a vase on a shelf. “Depends. Are the circumstances worth it?”

The tension between them crackled, growing thicker with every stolen moment alone. Michael had long since given up pretending it wasn’t driving him crazy. Lexy knew it—and she was playing with him, just the way she loved to.
By the time the last box was finally in place and Lexy was about to stretch her sore muscles, Michael appeared beside her again. His fingers barely grazed her hip, his voice dropping into a husky whisper.
“I can’t wait to fuck you when we get home.”
Lexy felt a shiver race down her spine. She didn’t turn to look at him, only let a sultry smirk curve her lips. “Then you’d better make sure we finish up here soon.”
Michael inhaled sharply before stepping back with a low chuckle. “Challenge accepted.”
And with a smug grin, he disappeared into the bathroom.

After all the chaos, the heavy lifting, and the endless unpacking, the group finally collapsed onto the floor and sofas in the living room, exhaustion settling into their bones. Pizza boxes lay open on the coffee table, empty bottles and cans scattered among them, and the air carried the comfortable hum of satisfaction.
Gremlin, the only one with boundless energy, trotted from one person to the next, sniffing at the leftover crusts before jumping onto Liam’s lap, earning a lazy scratch behind his ears. The dog then moved on, hopping onto Daniel, then Lexy, before finally settling between Enya and Jayden, curling up in a content little ball.

Enya leaned her head against Jayden’s shoulder, her eyelids fluttering shut for just a moment, while Liam lazily swirled the soda in his glass, eyes half-closed from fatigue. Across from them, Lexy sat beside Michael, her posture relaxed—but there was something in the way Michael’s fingers rested so casually on her knee, barely noticeable to the others, but palpable to the two of them. The unsaid words, the unspoken tension—it was all there, hidden in plain sight.
After a long beat, Daniel smirked, raising his glass. “Alright, so… I guess this is it. New chapter, new adventures, new headaches. To this crazy bunch and their new home.”
The group murmured their agreement, lifting their glasses in an uncoordinated but heartfelt toast. Jayden, grinning as he clinked his drink against Enya’s, added, “To family.”
And for a moment, as they sat there, the weight of reality settling in alongside the warmth of companionship, it felt like home. Even for Liam—who still wrestled with the unease of permanence. But as he looked around, at the people surrounding him, at the mess they’d made together, he realized he wasn’t alone. Maybe he didn’t need to have all the answers right now. Maybe just being here was enough.

After a while, Lexy stretched with an exaggerated yawn and got to her feet. “I gotta use the bathroom. If one of you fuckers finished the toilet paper roll and didn’t replace it, I will start throwing hands.”
Chuckles rippled through the group as she disappeared down the hall.
Liam, perking up a little, nudged Daniel with his foot. “Alright, mate, I say we break in the new house properly—with a proper game night. Get the console hooked up.”
Daniel, who had just started to sink into the couch in a perfect post-food coma, groaned but relented. “Fine. But if you think I’m letting you win just ‘cause you had a long day, you’re dead wrong.”
As the two got to work setting up the TV, Michael stood, stretching his arms above his head. “Think I’ll take a piss, too.”
No one paid much attention as he strolled casually in the same direction Lexy had gone minutes ago.
But behind the closed door of the bathroom, where no one could see, where no one could hear—Lexy barely had time to gasp before Michael was on her. His hands were in her hair, his lips crashing against hers, their restraint snapping like a thread pulled too tight.
They never could keep their hands off each other for long. And tonight would be no exception.

Michael barely had time to press Lexy against the sink before she was on him, her fingers tangled in his hair, his lips hot and demanding against hers. The rush of nearly getting caught, the thrill of stolen moments—it only made them more desperate.
"Fuck," Lexy whispered between kisses, her nails dragging over the back of his neck. "We are so getting caught one of these days."
Michael smirked against her lips, his hands gripping her hips, pulling her flush against him. "Then let's make it worth the risk."
Lexy barely had a chance to respond before his hands slid beneath her shirt, fingertips ghosting over her ribs, making her shudder. Her breath hitched, her body arching into him as his mouth moved down the side of her neck.
Then—
A loud voice echoed down the hall.
"Oi! If you two are hogging the bathroom for one of your weird little bonding sessions, I swear to God—"

Lexy and Michael jumped apart like guilty teenagers, barely managing to straighten their clothes before Liam swung the door open.
As he stepped inside, he cocked an eyebrow at the sight of them standing there, looking—well. Suspicious as hell.
Michael had his hands shoved deep in his pockets, his face an unreadable mask—except for the slight flush creeping up his neck. Lexy, on the other hand, was far too composed, arms crossed as she leaned against the counter, exuding the kind of forced casualness that only made things more suspicious.
Liam took one look at them and grinned.
"Christ," he drawled. "Can you two ever keep your hands off each other?"
Michael stiffened slightly at the remark, but thankfully, Liam didn’t seem to notice. Lexy, on the other hand, rolled her eyes dramatically. "Oh, please. You think we’d do something like that in Jay and Enya’s house? Don’t be ridiculous."

Liam chuckled, shaking his head. "If I didn’t know any better, I’d actually start worrying that something was going on between you two."
That got Lexy’s attention. She tilted her head, intrigued. "Oh yeah? And what exactly makes you so sure there isn’t?"
Liam scoffed, as if the answer was obvious. "Because Michael would never do that. He promised me, back in the day. And if there’s one person who never breaks a promise, it’s him. What's more, he's not the right guy for you at all."
Michael, who had been standing there silently, shifted uncomfortably. "Right," he muttered. "Well, I should—uh—head back." Without waiting for a response, he turned and made a quick exit.
Lexy, however, wasn’t done yet.
"So," she said, arms still crossed. "If not Michael, then who exactly do you think is the 'right' guy for me? A jobless rodeo clown?"
Liam burst out laughing. "Jesus Christ, no! But it sure as hell shouldn’t be someone in the music business. You need someone who can give you a stable, normal life. After everything that’s happened..."
Lexy felt something tighten in her chest at his words, but she forced a smirk. "Right," she said flatly. "If you say so."
And with that, she turned and walked out, leaving Liam alone in the bathroom—completely oblivious to the storm he had just stirred up.

Lexy returned to the living room, where Daniel was currently locked in a heated gaming match against Enya. Michael was nowhere to be seen.
Frowning, she glanced around. "Where’s Michael?"
Jayden, who was lounging in an armchair with a beer in hand, half-asleep, cracked one eye open. "Stepped out onto the terrace for a smoke."
Lexy hesitated only for a second before making her way outside.
She found Michael leaning against the railing, exhaling slow rings of smoke into the cool night air. The dim light from the terrace cast soft shadows over his face, making his usual boyish features look older, more burdened.
"Hey," she said quietly, stepping closer. "You okay? You don’t usually smoke."
His shoulders tensed slightly. He took another drag before sighing. "I’m fine. Just tired." A beat of silence. "We should head home."
Something in his tone felt off, but Lexy didn’t press. Not here. Not now.

Back inside, they said their goodbyes quickly. Daniel decided to crash at Jayden and Enya’s, which left just Lexy and Michael in the car—alone in a silence so thick, it was almost suffocating.
Lexy stole a few glances at Michael as he drove, his grip firm on the steering wheel, his jaw clenched in a way that told her something was weighing on him. But she didn’t dare ask. A small, nervous part of her was afraid of the answer.
By the time they reached Michael’s place, the tension hadn’t lifted.
Lexy went straight to the bathroom, using the moment to take a deep breath and steady herself before getting ready for bed. But when she stepped into the bedroom, she froze.
Michael was sitting on the edge of the bed, shirtless, lost in thought. He hadn’t even noticed her.
Something about the way he was hunched over, his fingers loosely woven together, sent a pang through her chest.

She climbed onto the bed, slipping behind him, wrapping her arms around his waist as she pressed soft kisses to his bare shoulder. "Are you mad at me?" she asked, barely above a whisper, afraid of how much her voice trembled. "Did I do something wrong?"
Michael exhaled heavily and finally turned to her. Taking her hands in his, he kissed them gently. "No, Lex. I could never be mad at you." He hesitated, choosing his words carefully. "It’s just… this whole situation. Lying to Liam for years—it’s starting to get to me."
Lexy’s stomach twisted with guilt. "I’m sorry I put you in this position." Her voice was small. "But Liam wouldn’t understand."
"I know." His voice was steady, but his eyes betrayed his inner conflict. "But one day, we have to tell him."
He laid back against the pillows, and Lexy followed, nestling into his warmth. She sighed. "Well, I really killed the mood, huh?"
Michael chuckled softly. "Happens."

Then, after a pause, he added, "Jay and I are flying to the U.S. next week for some press and meetings. How about the night before we leave… we have a session? It’s been a while."
Lexy’s breath hitched. A session.
The last time they’d played was over a year ago—January 2023, when Sleep Token toured with Architects and Northlane in Germany. After the Düsseldorf show, Michael had made a quick detour to Cologne, where he had given her a sleepless, pleasure-filled night before flying to Munich the next morning.
A deep warmth spread through her at the memory.
"That sounds perfect," she murmured, pressing a soft kiss to his chest.
For a long moment, neither of them spoke. The weight of the night still lingered, but the silence no longer felt quite so heavy.
Eventually, they both drifted into sleep—tangled together in a quiet, unspoken understanding.

Chapter Text

The apartment was quiet, the only sound breaking the silence was the occasional jingle of Daniel’s keys as he threw on his jacket. “Alright, I’m off. Don’t wait up,” he announced, flashing a grin at Michael, who was already sprawled across the couch. “And don’t burn the place down while I’m gone.”
Michael waved him off. “Yeah, yeah. Have fun, mate.”
Daniel cast a fleeting glance at Michael and Lexy. “And you two behave.”
“No promises,” Lexy quipped with a smirk.
The door clicked shut behind him, and suddenly, the air in the room felt heavier. With Daniel gone for the evening, that meant one thing—Michael and Lexy had the house all to themselves.

Michael leaned back, arms lazily resting behind his head. “So… ground rules?”
Lexy sank down beside him on the couch, one leg tucked under her as she studied him with cool amusement. “Mhm. Since you asked for this, let’s establish a few things first.”
She watched him closely as she spoke. He was calm—maybe too calm—but the slight increase in his breathing betrayed the anticipation simmering just beneath the surface.
“Tell me, Mikey… what do you want?”
A brief, almost imperceptible swallow. Then a quiet smirk. “Edging… and biting.”
Lexy raised an eyebrow. “How much biting?”
Michael wet his lips, as if already weighing how much he could take. “Until I say stop.”
A slow, knowing smile curled on Lexy’s lips. “And your safeword?”
“Asmodeus.”
Lexy let the syllables roll off her tongue, savoring them. “Good boy.”
Michael stiffened, just a little. His gaze flickered, a hint of color creeping onto his cheeks. Lexy reveled in the sight—controlled, yet already teetering on the edge of what she had planned for him.
“Alright then,” she said, pushing herself up to stand. “Get up. We’re doing this now.”
Michael obeyed without hesitation. His expression was composed, his breath just a fraction deeper than before. Without another word, he followed Lexy into the bedroom.

The bedroom was dimly lit, casting warm, flickering shadows across the walls. The air between them was charged, anticipation hanging heavy.
Michael stood by the bed, his posture controlled, but Lexy could see the telltale tension in his shoulders, the way his fingers twitched slightly at his sides. He was already bracing himself for what was to come.
She took a deliberate step closer, her gaze sharp. “Strip.”
There was no hesitation. Michael pulled his shirt over his head in one fluid motion, the muscles in his abdomen flexing as he reached for his belt. The soft clink of the buckle was the only sound between them as he undid it, sliding his jeans down his legs until he was bare before her.
Lexy took her time, raking her gaze over him, knowing the slow scrutiny would make him squirm. She reached out, running her nails down the center of his chest, watching with satisfaction as his skin pebbled under her touch.
“On the bed,” she instructed, her tone smooth as silk.

Michael obeyed, settling onto the mattress, his breathing measured. Lexy retrieved the cuffs from the nightstand, fastening one around his wrist, then the other. The leather was snug but not restrictive, keeping his arms in place without cutting off circulation. She gave them an experimental tug, making sure he was secure before straddling his hips.
“Comfortable?” she asked, tilting her head.
Michael exhaled through his nose, a flicker of amusement in his eyes despite the situation. “You know I am.”
Lexy smirked. “We’ll see.”
She leaned down, her lips ghosting over his jaw before she sank her teeth into his neck—hard enough to leave a mark, but not hard enough to break skin. Michael inhaled sharply, his fingers twitching in the restraints.
Lexy hummed in approval. “That’s one.”
She trailed lower, dragging her lips over his collarbone before biting down again, a fraction harder this time. His muscles tensed beneath her, but he made no sound.
“Already holding back?” she murmured against his skin, amusement lacing her voice.

Her hands wandered lower, fingers tracing the ridges of his abdomen before curling around him. He was already achingly hard, his body betraying his anticipation. Lexy tightened her grip, stroking him slow and deliberate. She watched his chest rise and fall, his breathing already uneven.
Then, just as she felt his hips twitch, she let go.
Michael exhaled sharply, frustration evident in the tension across his body.
Lexy chuckled. “We’re just getting started.”
She reached for the glass she had prepared earlier, the ice cubes clinking softly as she fished one out. Holding it between her fingers, she trailed it down his sternum, watching with fascination as his skin reacted instantly, muscles jumping at the stark contrast of temperature.
Michael hissed, his head pressing back against the pillows.
Lexy took her time, dragging the ice lower, circling his navel before letting a single droplet of melted water fall onto the sensitive skin below. Then, without warning, she took him in her mouth, the chill of the ice lingering against her tongue as she wrapped her lips around him.
Michael cursed, his back arching slightly off the bed.

Lexy smirked around him before pulling away just as suddenly, letting the cool air hit his wet skin.
Michael groaned, his hands flexing uselessly in the restraints. “Fuck.”
“Not yet,” Lexy said sweetly, trailing her nails along his inner thighs.
She continued her torment, bringing him to the very edge over and over again—sometimes with her mouth, sometimes with her hands, alternating between warmth and cold, pleasure and denial. Each time his breathing turned ragged, each time his body tensed in anticipation of release, she pulled back, leaving him stranded on the precipice.
After countless bites, his entire body was trembling, his muscles tight with unreleased tension. His skin was marked with faint impressions of her teeth, his thighs quivering under her touch.
Lexy hovered over him, watching the war in his expression—desperation warring with stubbornness. “Say it,” she whispered, dragging her nails down his ribs.
Michael swallowed hard, his voice rough and strained. “Not yet.”
Lexy smirked, pleased. “Brave boy.”
But she knew it was coming. It was only a matter of time.

Michael was unraveling.
His body was slick with sweat, every muscle strung taut, his breathing uneven and ragged. His wrists flexed against the cuffs, not in an attempt to escape, but in sheer desperation. His chest rose and fell in rapid succession, his thighs trembling beneath Lexy's touch.
She had edged him five times now—each more torturous than the last. Every time he came close, she denied him, pushing him further into a spiral of frustration and need. His body was on fire, caught in the limbo between unbearable pleasure and agonizing denial.
Lexy hovered over him, tracing her fingertips along his abdomen, watching the way his muscles clenched at even the lightest touch. She knew he was close to his limit. She could see it in the way his hands clenched into fists, the way his jaw locked in silent restraint.
She leaned down, pressing a kiss against his throat, then another along his jaw. “You’re shaking,” she murmured, her voice deceptively sweet. “Tell me, Mikey—how much more do you think you can take?”
Michael exhaled sharply, his head lolling back against the pillow. His lips parted, but no words came out—just a shallow, wrecked sound that sent a thrill down Lexy’s spine.
She smirked. “That’s what I thought.”

Without another word, she slid down his body, wrapping her hand around him again. He was so hard it almost hurt to look at, the tip flushed deep red, a bead of precum spilling down the length of his shaft. Lexy’s thumb swiped across it, slow and deliberate.
Michael choked out a curse, his entire body jerking against the restraints. “Fucking hell—”
Lexy only chuckled, replacing her fingers with her mouth.
The moment her lips wrapped around him, Michael gasped—his head pressing back against the mattress, his hips stuttering involuntarily. She was relentless, her tongue tracing every inch of him, her mouth hot and wet, driving him even closer to the edge he’d been teetering on for what felt like an eternity.
But then—just as he was about to break—she stopped.
Michael let out a wrecked, frustrated groan, his head turning to the side as he struggled to catch his breath. His body was trembling now, every nerve on fire, his hands flexing uselessly in the cuffs.
Lexy sat back on her heels, watching him with a knowing smirk. “How are you feeling, sweetheart?”
Michael swallowed hard, his voice coming out wrecked. “Fucking— Lex, please—”
She cocked her head. “Please what?”

His throat bobbed as he struggled to find the words, but his pride was still holding on by a thread. His chest heaved, his entire body quivering with need, his skin flushed and glistening under the dim bedroom light.
Lexy reached forward, trailing her nails up the inside of his thigh, watching the way he flinched under her touch. “Come on, baby. You know what I need to hear.”
Michael’s breathing hitched. His lips parted. And then, finally—
“Asmodeus.”
The word fell from his lips like a confession, rough and breathless, and in that moment, all the tension in his body seemed to collapse in on itself. His head fell back against the pillows, his chest rising and falling in rapid succession, relief washing over his features.
Lexy reacted instantly.

She moved to uncuff him, her hands quick but gentle as she freed his wrists. The moment the restraints were gone, Michael exhaled, flexing his fingers before his arms came around her, pulling her down against his chest. His skin was burning, his heartbeat racing against her cheek.
Lexy ran her hands over his arms, his shoulders, grounding him. “You okay?” she murmured softly.
Michael nodded, still catching his breath. “Yeah.” A pause. Then, quieter, “Thank you.”
She kissed the side of his neck, whispering against his skin. “You did so well.”
Michael shuddered, his grip on her tightening for a moment before he pulled back just enough to look at her. His eyes were glassy, his expression open and vulnerable in a way that made something in Lexy’s chest tighten.
Then, in a hoarse, desperate whisper—
“Lex, please— I need you.”
Lexy didn’t hesitate.

She reached over to the nightstand, grabbing a condom and tearing the wrapper open with practiced ease. Michael was still panting beneath her, his pupils blown wide, body taut with need as she rolled it over him with steady hands.
The moment she positioned herself above him, his fingers dug into her hips, his grip firm but trembling. She met his eyes, her voice a breathy whisper.
“Take what you need.”
That was all the permission he needed.
With a desperate groan, Michael bucked his hips up, driving into her with a force that stole the breath from her lungs. He wasn’t gentle, wasn’t controlled—he was pure, raw need, his hands gripping her tightly as he moved beneath her, chasing the release he’d been denied for so long.
Lexy braced herself, letting him take control, letting him use her in the way he so clearly craved. His movements were frantic, erratic, his breath coming in broken gasps, and she could feel how close he was—how unbearably wound up his body had become.
It didn’t take long.
Within minutes, Michael’s rhythm stuttered, his grip tightening almost painfully as a wrecked, guttural moan tore from his throat. His entire body tensed beneath her, and then he was gone—falling over the edge with a force that left him shaking beneath her.
For a long moment, all that filled the room was the sound of their heavy breathing.

Then, finally, Michael collapsed back against the pillows, utterly spent. Lexy stayed where she was, her hands trailing soothingly over his chest, giving him time to come back down.
She leaned forward, pressing a soft kiss to his damp forehead. “You okay, baby?”
Michael exhaled shakily, nodding. His voice was hoarse when he finally spoke.
“Never better.”
Lexy moved off him carefully, disposing of the condom before slipping back into bed beside him. Michael was still catching his breath, his body loose and relaxed now, but the lingering tremors in his muscles told her just how much the session had taken out of him.
She pulled the covers over them both and curled into his side, pressing a soft kiss to his shoulder. "You with me?" she murmured, her voice laced with warmth and affection.
Michael let out a tired chuckle, one arm wrapping around her. "Barely," he admitted, his voice thick with exhaustion. "But yeah, I’m here."
Lexy traced gentle circles on his chest, grounding him. Aftercare had always been important to them, and tonight was no different. She let the silence settle, letting him recover at his own pace, but as the minutes passed, she felt something shift in the air between them.

It was subtle—the way his fingers tightened slightly against her skin, the way his breath hitched just the slightest bit. She knew Michael well enough to recognize when something was weighing on him.
"You wanna talk about it?" she asked softly.
Michael was quiet for a long moment, then sighed. "It’s just… I hate leaving you."
Lexy’s heart clenched. She had tried not to think about his trip too much, had tried to push away the growing unease that came with the thought of him being so far away. But now that he’d said it out loud, she couldn’t ignore the sting of it anymore.
"I hate it too," she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. "I know it’s just for a little while, but… I don’t know. It makes me feel weird. Like everything’s about to change."
Michael turned his head to look at her, his expression softening. "Nothing’s gonna change, Lex," he assured her. "I’ll be gone for a few weeks, that’s all. And then I’ll come back to you."
She swallowed, trying to ignore the stupid lump forming in her throat. "Promise?"
Michael reached for her hand, threading their fingers together. He brought her knuckles to his lips, pressing a lingering kiss against them.
"Promise," he murmured.

Lexy exhaled slowly, letting the warmth of his touch ease her nerves. Maybe she was overthinking things. Maybe it really would go by in a blink.
She nestled closer, resting her head against his chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. "Alright," she said, her voice softer now. "I’ll hold you to that."
Michael chuckled, running his fingers through her hair. "You always do."
A comfortable silence settled between them, their bodies warm and tangled beneath the sheets. For the first time in what felt like forever, Lexy felt truly at peace.
Then, Michael's voice broke through the quiet. "When I get back from L.A.," he said, his tone calm but firm, "I want to have sex with you. And I want to make you come."
Lexy blinked, momentarily thrown by the sudden declaration. She lifted her head to look at him, confusion flickering across her face. "That’s... random," she murmured.
Michael’s lips quirked up slightly, but his eyes held nothing but sincerity. "Not really," he said. "I’ve been thinking about it for a while. I think it’s time, Lex."
"Time for what?" she asked cautiously, her stomach twisting.

"Time to stop letting the past control you," he said gently. "I know you’re still holding on to a lot. And I get it—I do. But I don’t want you to just survive, Lex. I want you to live. To want things. To enjoy them." He squeezed her hand, his thumb brushing over her knuckles. "I want us to experience that together. No ghosts. No fear. Just us."
Lexy swallowed hard. For a long moment, she said nothing, simply letting his words settle in.
He wasn’t wrong.
She had spent so much of her life trapped in the shadows of her past, letting it dictate what she could and couldn’t do. Even now, even with Michael, there were still barriers she had never quite dared to cross.
Maybe it really was time.
Lexy exhaled slowly, pressing her forehead against his chest. "I don’t know if I can promise anything," she admitted.
"I’m not asking for promises," Michael said softly. "Just... try. For us."
She closed her eyes, letting his warmth soothe the quiet storm inside her. And then, finally, she nodded. "Okay. I’ll try."
Michael kissed the top of her head, his embrace tightening around her. "That’s all I want."
They lay there in silence after that, wrapped in each other, and for the first time in a long time, Lexy felt like maybe—just maybe—she could start looking forward instead of back.
That night, she slept soundly.

Chapter Text

Enya sat at the piano, her fingers gliding gently over the keys as a soft, melancholic melody filled the room. Jayden stood in the doorway, watching her for a moment—how she got lost in the music, how her brow furrowed slightly when she concentrated, how her body swayed subtly with the movement of her hands.
He stepped forward quietly, wrapping his arms around her shoulders and resting his head against hers. "That sounds beautiful," he murmured against her skin.
Enya smiled softly without stopping her playing. "Thanks."
Jayden inhaled her scent—a mix of vanilla and something that was simply her. He watched her fingers dance over the keys, then tilted his head and pressed a gentle kiss to her shoulder. At first, it was nothing more than a whisper of a touch, but then his lips began trailing slowly up the curve of her neck.
Enya let out a quiet chuckle. "Aren't you ever satisfied?" she teased.

Jayden grinned, pulling back slightly. "Cheeky girl." Before she could react, he wrapped his arms around her waist, effortlessly lifting her off the bench and tossing her over his shoulder.
She let out a surprised squeal, her hands pressing against his back as she wiggled in protest. "Jayden, that’s unfair!"
He laughed, carrying her towards the bedroom with ease. "Well, tough luck, sweetheart."
When they reached the bed, he playfully tossed her onto the mattress. She landed with a soft bounce, looking up at him with mock indignation. But as Jayden knelt in front of her, his hands gently sliding over her thighs, she realized this wasn’t about lust—at least, not in the usual way.
His fingers moved slowly, tugging at the hem of her top, his gaze warm and reverent. As he pulled the fabric over her head, he took a moment to simply look at her, as if memorizing every inch of her. Then he leaned in, his lips trailing softly over her skin—her arms, her shoulders, her waist.
"You're so beautiful," he whispered between kisses. "Every part of you. Everything about you."
His words, his touch—it wasn’t raw passion. It was devotion. And that made it even more intense.

Enya lay beneath Jayden, her breath steady, her gaze searching his as he continued his slow, reverent worship of her body. His hands glided over her skin, mapping out every inch as if he were rediscovering her all over again.
"You know," he murmured against her stomach, pressing a lingering kiss there, "I remember the first time I ever heard you play. That night in the piano bar, when I just sat in the back, mesmerized by you." His lips trailed lower, brushing over her hipbone. "I thought, ‘God, I’ve never seen anyone so lost in music before.’ And I wanted—needed—to know you."
Enya swallowed hard, her fingers threading into his hair as he continued his slow worship.
"And then there was that afternoon in the park," he went on, his voice soft and warm. "The way you looked at me when we were sitting on that stupid bench, pretending we weren’t about to kiss." He chuckled against her skin, pressing a soft kiss to her inner thigh. "I was so nervous, but when you finally leaned in… I swear, I felt it in every inch of me."
Enya exhaled shakily. "Jay…"

He moved up again, hovering over her, his fingers tracing over her collarbone. "And the first time we were together after the show. You were still buzzing from the music, and I couldn’t stop looking at you. It was… more than just sex. It was like—like I finally had you in a way I’d been craving for so long."
She bit her lip, feeling the warmth of his breath ghost over her skin as he spoke. The way he was touching her—so gently, so deliberately—made her heart ache in the best way possible.
"But you know what moment I’ll never forget?" His voice dipped lower, rougher. "The night I thought I lost you. After Ryan."
Enya stiffened slightly, and Jayden kissed the center of her chest, as if trying to soothe the old wound.
"I sat next to your hospital bed every night, holding your hand, begging you to wake up." His lips moved to her shoulder, pressing a slow, lingering kiss there. "I told myself that if you made it through, if you came back to me, I’d spend the rest of my life making sure you were safe. Making sure you knew how much I love you."
She blinked rapidly, her throat tightening as she listened to him.

"And now we’re here. In our home. No more running, no more fear. Just us." He lifted his head, meeting her gaze with something unbearably raw. "I can finally see a future, Enya. A bright one. A real one. Without him haunting us anymore."
She smiled softly, running her hands over his shoulders. "That’s all I ever wanted."
Jayden kissed her deeply then, slow and consuming, pouring everything he felt into it. And just as she was melting into him, letting herself be completely lost in the moment, he murmured against her lips—
"And maybe… someday, in that future, there’ll be a little version of us running around."
Enya’s entire body stiffened.
Her fingers, which had been tracing the nape of his neck, froze. The warmth that had spread through her chest a second ago turned to ice.
Jayden didn’t notice at first. He kept kissing her softly, oblivious to how her entire demeanor had shifted. But then she gently pushed against his chest, creating space between them.
Jayden pulled back, confusion flickering across his face as he studied her expression. "Enya?"
Her voice was quiet, but firm. "Jayden. We’ve talked about this."
Silence.
And then, like a storm creeping over the horizon, the atmosphere in the room began to change.

Enya pulled her shirt over her head and got up without looking at him. The silence between them was heavy, unspoken. She needed to escape this conversation, needed air—something to keep her hands busy.
She left the bedroom and walked into the kitchen, grabbing a glass and filling it with water. The movement was mechanical, her thoughts racing.
Jayden followed. Of course he did.
He leaned against the doorway, arms crossed, watching her. “Why is this such a difficult topic for you?” he asked finally, his voice calm but tinged with frustration. “You love kids, Enya. You work with them every day. You take care of them like they’re your own. How can you not imagine that for yourself?”
She took a sip of water, as if that would wash away the tightness in her chest. “It’s not the same.”
“Why not?” Jayden took a step closer. “Because they wouldn’t just be the children you take care of at work? Because they’d be yours?”
Her eyes snapped to him, sharp as a knife. “Drop it.”

He didn’t. “I don’t understand, Enya. I know what happened to Evie. I know it hurts. But…” He exhaled deeply, struggling to find the right words. “Have you ever considered that maybe, one day, you could still be a mother?”
Her grip on the glass tightened. “Evie was my child, Jayden.” Her voice trembled. “And she died. I was a mother. And I will never be one again.”
Jayden closed his eyes briefly, like he was gathering himself. “But what if—”
“There is no what if!” Enya slammed the glass onto the counter, water sloshing over the edge. “Are you even listening to me? I will not have children. Not with you, not with anyone. I’ve already been through it once, and I am never doing it again.”
“Enya—”
“No!” She crossed her arms tightly over her chest, as if holding herself together. “You can’t seriously expect me to put myself through that fear all over again! To spend every night wondering if my baby is still breathing! To— to rip my own soul apart if something goes wrong again!”
Jayden stared at her, his hands clenched into fists, his jaw tight. His chest rose and fell heavily. Then he shook his head. “And what about me?”
Enya blinked, caught off guard. “What do you mean?”

He stepped closer, his eyes dark with unspoken emotion. “You’re afraid of losing a child. I get that. But have you ever thought about the fact that I might be afraid of never having one?”
Her mouth opened, but no words came out.
Jayden let out a bitter laugh. “You know what’s really unfair?” He ran a hand through his hair, his gaze flickering. “That I’m the only one expected to make compromises here. You just say no, and I’m supposed to accept it?”
“This isn’t about compromises, Jayden!” Her voice rose. “This is my life, my body, my decision!”
Enya’s grip on the counter tightened as she tried to steady her breathing. The air between them was thick, suffocating. Jayden took a step closer, his voice quieter but no less intense.
“What if you got pregnant by accident?”
Enya exhaled sharply, her patience wearing thin. “That won’t happen.”
Jayden narrowed his eyes. “And if it did?”
“It won’t.”
He ran a hand through his hair, frustration evident in every tense muscle of his body. “That’s not an answer, Enya.”
She turned to face him fully, crossing her arms. “I know how to prevent it.”
Something in her tone—casual, unwavering, almost dismissive—lit a spark in Jayden’s chest. His jaw clenched. “And if you didn’t?”
She sighed, rubbing her temples. “Jayden, you’re not listening—”
“No, you’re not listening.” His voice was low, trembling with something dangerous. “You’re telling me it’s impossible, but humor me for one fucking second. If it did happen, what would you do?”

Enya hesitated. Not because she didn’t know the answer—she did. But because she already knew how he would react.
Her silence spoke louder than any words.
Jayden took a sharp breath, shaking his head. “Jesus Christ.” He let out a bitter laugh, but there was no humor in it. “Would you even tell me?”
She blinked. “What?”
His expression darkened. “If you found out you were pregnant—would you even fucking tell me before getting rid of it?”
Her stomach dropped.
“Jayden,” she whispered, shaking her head, but he wasn’t done.
His voice was sharp, laced with something raw and broken. “Would you be so kind as to at least inform me before you kill our child?”
The words crashed into her like a wrecking ball.
The room went completely silent.
Jayden’s chest rose and fell heavily, his hands shaking at his sides. He didn’t even register that he was breathing too fast, that his vision was blurring at the edges.
And then, before he could stop himself, his fist connected with the wall.

The impact sent a dull shockwave through the room, a deep crack splintering through the wallpaper.
Enya flinched—not at the violence of it, but at the raw, uncontrollable pain behind it.
For a long moment, neither of them spoke. The only sound in the room was Jayden’s ragged breathing.
Enya’s throat was dry. “What the fuck is wrong with you?”
Jayden blinked, as if realizing for the first time what he had just done. His eyes darted to the cracked wall, then to Enya, who was staring at him—stunned, confused, and something else. Something wary.
Guilt crept onto his face, but it was drowned out by the turmoil in his head. He took a shaky step back, running a hand over his face.
“Fuck,” he muttered. “I—I need to go.”
Enya frowned. “Go? Now?”
Jayden turned on his heel. “I need to clear my head.”
He was already moving toward the door when Enya snapped out of her shock. “Jayden, don’t—”
He grabbed his keys from the counter.
“Jayden!” she called after him. “Don’t fucking run away from this—talk to me!”
But he was already gone.
The door slammed shut behind him, leaving Enya standing in the heavy silence, her pulse pounding in her ears.
She stared at the door, at the space he had just occupied. She still didn’t even understand what had just happened.

The night air was sharp against Jayden’s heated skin, but he barely felt it. His thoughts raced, tangled and suffocating, as he walked aimlessly through the dimly lit streets. His hands were still trembling—whether from the adrenaline of their fight or the sickening weight of what he had said, he wasn’t sure.
He had never lost control like that before.
Not with her.
And the look on Enya’s face… fuck, that haunted him the most.
He had seen her angry before. Hurt. Even furious. But tonight had been different.
He had seen something else flash across her face.
Something dangerously close to fear.
Jayden inhaled sharply, raking his fingers through his hair. He needed to get out of his own head before he drowned in it.
Liam and Daniel.
They had mentioned going out tonight. Maybe if he surrounded himself with their banter, their easy laughter, he could stop this spiraling. Maybe if he drank enough, he could shut his brain off—just for a little while.
With unsteady hands, he pulled out his phone.

J: Where are you guys?
It only took a few moments before Liam responded.
L: High Street. You good? Thought you were spending the night with Ny-Ny.
Jayden hesitated, his thumb hovering over the keyboard. He could still turn back. Try to fix things now. But the thought of facing Enya after what he had just said made his stomach churn.
J: On my way.

The bar was packed, a stark contrast to the quiet tension still hanging over Jayden like a storm cloud. Laughter and music filled the space, the air thick with the scent of beer, whiskey, and something fried.
He spotted Liam and Daniel easily—Liam was leaning back against the bar, lazily twirling his beer bottle, while Daniel was animatedly talking with someone he clearly didn’t know but had somehow charmed into a conversation.
When Jayden approached, Liam’s sharp gaze immediately flickered to him, assessing.
“Well, well,” Liam drawled, tilting his head, “look who finally decided to crawl out of his love nest.”
Daniel smirked, lifting his glass. “Guess date night didn’t go as planned, huh?”
Jayden let out a humorless chuckle and slid onto the stool beside them. “Something like that.”
Liam studied him a beat longer before nodding at the bartender. “Whiskey.”
Jayden didn’t argue when the glass was placed in front of him. The first sip burned its way down, and he welcomed it.
The second drink settled heavily in his gut.
By the third, Daniel’s amusement had faded, replaced with something quieter. Something more perceptive.

“Alright,” he said, resting his arms on the table, “are you gonna tell us what’s going on, or do we have to get you completely shitfaced first?”
Jayden exhaled slowly, his fingers tapping against the rim of his glass.
“I fucked up,” he admitted.
Liam arched a brow. “No shit.”
Jayden huffed, running a hand down his face. “Enya and I had a fight.”
Daniel exchanged a look with Liam before turning back to Jayden. “How bad?”
Jayden scoffed. “I punched the wall.”
Liam let out a low whistle. “Damn.”
Daniel, however, looked more concerned than impressed. “Jay…”
Jayden downed the rest of his whiskey, setting the glass down with a dull thud. “She doesn’t want kids.”
Liam frowned. “Yeah? We kind of knew that, though.”
Jayden shook his head. “I thought maybe, one day, she’d change her mind. But she won’t. She made that very fucking clear.”
Daniel studied him. “And that hit you harder than you expected.”

Jayden let out a bitter laugh. “It’s not just that,” he muttered, fingers tightening around his empty glass. “I—I asked her what she would do if she ever got pregnant by accident. And she just—” He exhaled sharply. “She said she’d make sure it never happened.”
Liam blinked. “And that set you off?”
Jayden hesitated. Then, in a voice barely above a whisper, he admitted, “I asked if she’d even tell me before she got rid of our kid.”
Silence.
Even in the loud, crowded bar, those words hung heavily between them.
Liam stared at him, his expression unreadable.
Daniel’s face, however, was laced with something softer. Something knowing.
“Jay,” he said quietly. “That’s… a really fucked-up thing to say.”
Jayden let out a sharp, bitter laugh. “Yeah. No shit.”
Liam finally spoke, his voice slower now, more careful. “What the hell made you even think she’d do that?”
Jayden hesitated. He really didn’t want to talk about this. Not now. Not ever.
But he was already unraveling, already drowning in the mess of his own making. And if there were two people in the world who might actually understand, it was them.
He took a deep breath.

“My ex,” he admitted, his voice rough. “She was pregnant. And she never told me.”
Daniel and Liam both stilled.
Jayden stared at the empty glass in front of him, feeling his pulse hammer against his skin. “She got rid of it,” he continued, the words bitter on his tongue. “Didn’t even think I deserved to know until after the fact. Just casually mentioned it like it was the most normal fucking thing in the world.”
Daniel let out a slow breath. “Jesus.”
Jayden clenched his jaw. “I didn’t even get a say. Didn’t get a chance to process it. She just—” He exhaled sharply. “She made the choice for both of us. And I had to live with it.”
Liam ran a hand through his hair, his lips pressing into a thin line.
Daniel, on the other hand, leaned forward. “And now you’re scared it’s gonna happen again.”
Jayden swallowed, gripping the edge of the bar.
“Yeah,” he admitted. “I guess I am.”
Daniel nodded slowly. “And that fear made you lash out.”
Jayden scoffed, shaking his head. “More like fucking explode.”

Liam exhaled, rubbing his temple. “Mate, you know Enya’s not your ex.”
Jayden let out a dry laugh. “Yeah. Tell that to the part of my brain that keeps replaying the worst moments of my life.”
Daniel studied him for a long moment before finally speaking.
“You need to go back.”
Jayden stiffened. “I can’t.”
Daniel sighed. “Yes, you can. And you will. You love her, Jay. And she loves you. But if you don’t tell her why you reacted like this, she’s never gonna understand.”
Jayden swallowed hard.
Liam nudged him lightly. “At least you didn’t fuck up beyond repair.”
Jayden let out a humorless laugh. “Yet.”
Daniel clinked his glass against Jayden’s. “Then don’t.”
Jayden inhaled deeply, feeling the weight of their words settle in his chest.

Jayden remained seated, lost in thought as the noise of the bar buzzed around him. His hands were wrapped around his empty glass, his mind still tangled in the mess he had created. The weight of his confession lingered in the air, but Liam and Daniel, sensing that he had said enough for one night, tried to shift the conversation.
“So,” Liam drawled, taking a swig from his beer. “Did you see that ridiculous hat Lexy was wearing the other day? Looked like a bloody peacock exploded on her head.”
Daniel smirked. “Oh, you mean her ‘fashion statement’?” He made air quotes. “Yeah, I told her she looked like a rejected extra from Alice in Wonderland.”
Jayden barely reacted, swirling the ice in his glass.
Daniel and Liam exchanged a glance before Liam continued, “Did I tell you about the time Michael got stuck in the tour bus bathroom for forty minutes? Thought he was gonna have a breakdown in there.”
That got a small huff of amusement out of Jayden, but it wasn’t much.

Still, the two carried on, doing their best to keep the mood light, to distract him from the storm raging inside his head. It worked—at least a little.
But then Jayden lifted his hand and signaled for another drink.
Before the bartender could pour it, Daniel smoothly intervened, placing a hand over the glass.
“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” he said calmly.
Jayden frowned. “Why not?”
Daniel gave him a pointed look. “Because you still have a conversation to finish with Enya. And because, in case you forgot, you have a flight in a few hours.”
Jayden scoffed. “I’m fine.”
“You’re not,” Daniel countered, unwavering. “You’re two drinks away from making this whole situation ten times worse.”
Jayden’s jaw tightened. “It’s just one more—”
“No,” Daniel cut him off, his voice firm. “And before you argue, Liam’s on my side.”
Jayden turned to Liam, who simply shrugged. “Sorry, mate. He’s right.”

Jayden exhaled sharply, frustration flickering across his face, but he knew better than to fight both of them on this.
Daniel took advantage of the moment, flagging the bartender down and settling the tab before Jayden could object.
“Come on,” Liam said, standing up and stretching. “Let’s get you home before you start making even dumber decisions.”
With little choice, Jayden let them steer him outside.
The night air was crisp, sobering him slightly as they walked in silence through the quiet streets. Jayden could still feel the warmth of the alcohol buzzing in his veins, but his mind was clearer now, no longer clouded by anger and frustration.
It was Liam who broke the silence first.
“You good?”
Jayden let out a long breath. “I don’t know.”
Another few steps passed before he spoke again, this time softer. “What if… What if we can’t fix this?”
Liam glanced at him but didn’t respond. It was Daniel who answered.
“Then you make a choice.”
Jayden turned to him.
Daniel’s expression was calm, but there was a weight behind his words. “You either accept it, learn to live with it, and love her anyway…” He hesitated. “Or you walk away.”
Jayden’s stomach twisted at the thought. “I can’t walk away from her.”
Daniel nodded. “Then you have to figure out how to live with it. Because if you keep trying to change her mind, it’ll only push her further away.”
Jayden swallowed hard, his throat tight.
Daniel wasn’t wrong.
But fuck, that was easier said than done.

By the time they reached the house, Jayden was exhausted, emotionally drained from the night’s events.
As they stepped inside, he turned to Liam and Daniel, rubbing the back of his neck. “Thanks. For… everything.”
Daniel smirked. “Anytime.”
Jayden hesitated, as if considering saying more, but then shook his head and exhaled. Without another word, he disappeared down the hall toward his bedroom.
Liam closed the door behind them, stretching again. “Well, that was a fucking night.”
Daniel smirked. “And here I thought it was gonna be boring.”
Liam rolled his eyes but then paused, giving Daniel a once-over. “You staying?”
Daniel arched a brow. “Are you inviting me to stay?”
Liam smirked. “Depends. You planning on behaving?”
Daniel leaned in slightly, his lips curling into something wicked. “Not even a little.”
Liam huffed a laugh, shaking his head as he turned toward his bedroom. “Then you better make it worth my while.”
Grinning, Daniel followed, his voice laced with amusement.
“Oh, Threelicious, you know I will.”

Jayden entered the bedroom quietly, relieved to find Enya already asleep. A deep breath left his lips as he stood in the dimly lit room, allowing himself to believe—if only for a moment—that this gave him more time to put off the conversation they both knew was inevitable.
Silently, he grabbed some fresh clothes from the dresser and slipped into the adjacent bathroom. The cool tiles beneath his feet grounded him as he undressed, discarding the weight of the night along with his clothes. He brushed his teeth quickly, splashed cold water on his face, and studied his reflection in the mirror. His eyes were tired, shadowed with lingering emotions he didn’t know how to process.
With a final exhale, he turned off the light and padded back into the bedroom, now dressed only in his boxers. The bed dipped under his weight as he slid beneath the covers, shifting carefully until he was pressed against Enya’s warm body. She smelled like home—faint traces of vanilla and something uniquely her wrapping around him like a blanket.

Gently, he leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to her hair.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered, his lips brushing against her temple. “For the things I said.”
For a moment, there was only silence. Then, in a voice barely above a whisper, Enya murmured, “Do you want to talk about it?”
Jayden squeezed his eyes shut, inhaling deeply before exhaling through his nose.
“Not now,” he admitted, his voice raw. “Please. I just… I just want to sleep.”
A pause. Then, “Okay.”
Jayden felt a flicker of relief that she didn’t push him, didn’t insist on dissecting everything while his mind was still too tangled to make sense of it.
But as the quiet settled around them, his thoughts refused to do the same. The weight in his chest didn’t lift, and even with Enya curled up beside him, the past clawed at him, demanding to be acknowledged.
With a sigh, he leaned his forehead against her shoulder and reached for her hand. He tangled their fingers together, grounding himself in her warmth before drawing in a slow, steady breath.

Softly, he began to speak.
He told her everything.

About the woman before her. About the betrayal that had been handed to him so casually, like it was nothing. About how the news of the abortion had shattered something in him, left him questioning his worth, his ability to trust, his ability to be enough for someone.
When he finished, the room was quiet again.
For a while, Jayden thought Enya had fallen asleep, and maybe that was for the best. But then, without a word, she brought their joined hands to her lips and pressed the softest kiss against his knuckles.
“I’m so sorry that happened to you,” she whispered, the sincerity in her voice making his chest feel unbearably tight.
His throat bobbed as he swallowed thickly, unable to respond.
“I would never do that to you,” she murmured. “I promise.”
Something inside Jayden cracked, but this time, it wasn’t in a way that hurt. It was something else entirely. Something that made him pull her even closer, pressing his face into the crook of her neck, where her scent was strongest.
She didn’t say anything else. She didn’t need to.
The silence that settled between them was different now. It was warm. Safe.
And for the first time that night, Jayden let himself breathe.
Finally, he could rest.

Chapter Text

Enya slowly drifted out of sleep, still wrapped in the comforting warmth of the blanket that felt heavy and reassuring around her body. But as she turned over, reaching out to snuggle against Jayden’s chest, her hand met nothing but empty sheets.
The bed beside her wasn’t just empty—it was cold.
Instantly, she was wide awake. Her heart picked up speed as her eyes swept across the dimly lit bedroom. No movement. No sound. Jayden was gone.
"Maybe he’s just in the bathroom," she told herself, rubbing the sleep from her eyes. But when she glanced at the clock, her stomach dropped. It was already late in the morning. Jayden should have been at the airport by now—maybe even in the air.
A creeping sense of unease settled in her chest. Kicking off the blankets, she jumped out of bed, barefoot, and rushed through the house, calling his name softly. First in the bedroom, then the hallway, then the kitchen.
No answer. No sign of him.
Jayden was gone.

Panic tightened its grip on her. Had he just left without saying goodbye? Was their fight even worse than she had thought? Had she hurt him more than she was willing to admit?
But then her gaze landed on the kitchen table—and her phone, neatly placed beside a hastily abandoned coffee cup. The notification light blinked.
With trembling fingers, she picked it up and unlocked the screen. A voice message from Jayden. Her heartbeat slowed just a little, but the tension remained.
She pressed play and held the phone to her ear.
"Hey, darling..." His voice was rough and tired, as if he had barely slept. "I’m sorry you woke up alone. I was running really late and had to rush out before I could wake you. You looked so peaceful, I didn’t want to disturb you."
A brief pause. She could hear his breath.
"Please don’t worry, okay? I know we still need to talk. I… I wish we’d had the time to work things out before I left, but we’ll fix this when I get back. I promise."
Another pause. Then a quiet chuckle.
"I’ll text you when I land. I love you."
The message ended.

Enya lowered the phone slowly, staring at the silent kitchen. The tight knot in her chest loosened—just a little. Jayden hadn’t left without saying goodbye. But somehow, it still felt like something had been left unresolved.
And now he was thousands of miles away.
She took a deep breath, trying to gather her thoughts. There was no point in spiraling. Jayden wasn’t gone forever. They would talk when he got back.
But why did it still feel like something had broken between them?

She exhaled shakily and pulled out a chair, sinking down at the kitchen table. The silence around her felt heavy, pressing down on her shoulders like a weight she couldn’t shake. She set her phone down and rested her forehead against her hand.
Her mind wandered back to last night.
The way Jayden had curled up against her in the dark, his forehead pressed to her shoulder, his voice raw with emotion as he told her about his past. About the woman who had carried his child without telling him, only to end its life before he even knew it existed.
And then… how he had found out.
Just an afterthought in a conversation. Just another thing she had done, like it was nothing.
Enya’s stomach twisted at the thought.

No wonder he had reacted so strongly last night. No wonder he had been so afraid. To him, the idea of her never wanting children wasn’t just a preference—it was a possible repeat of his worst nightmare. He had thought she was saying that if she ever got pregnant, she would do the same thing.
She would never.
But she had stood her ground so firmly, so stubbornly, not even realizing what it must have sounded like to him.
She swallowed hard, guilt creeping into her chest. Had she been too harsh? Too focused on defending her own fears, her own pain, to see what this was doing to him?
She had spent so many years trying to make peace with losing Evie, trying to tell herself she was fine, that she had moved on. But had she? Or had she just built walls so high that she refused to let anyone, even Jayden, question them?
She ran a hand through her hair, exhaling slowly.
There was no easy solution. She still didn’t want children. That hadn’t changed. But maybe… just maybe… she could have been a little more understanding.
She wished she could talk to him right now. Hold him. Tell him she understood now—at least a little more than she had last night.
But he was already gone.
And all she could do was wait.

Enya was still staring at her phone when she heard the shuffle of footsteps behind her. She looked up just in time to see Daniel step into the kitchen, completely naked, his hair a mess, his expression still half-asleep.
For a moment, he didn’t notice her. He yawned, rubbing his eyes, and wandered toward the fridge like a man on autopilot. But then, just as he reached for the handle, his drowsy brain finally registered her presence.
“Fuck!” he yelped, practically jumping out of his skin. He instinctively covered himself with his hands, eyes wide in horror.
Enya, despite everything, burst into laughter. “Morning to you, too.”
Daniel groaned, squeezing his eyes shut as if that would make him disappear. “For fuck’s sake, Ny-Ny, why are you just sitting there in the dark like some kind of serial killer?”
She smirked. “It’s not dark.”
“Well, it feels dark when I’m naked and vulnerable!”
She snorted and grabbed the nearest kitchen towel, tossing it at him. “Here, cover up before you traumatize me.”

Daniel fumbled to wrap the towel around his waist, muttering under his breath. “This is why I should have stayed in bed. No risk of accidental nudity.”
Enya arched a brow. “This kind of reminds me of how I met Liam. Do you know the story?”
Daniel blinked, clearly still waking up.
“I was standing in Jay's old kitchen, topless,” she reminded him with a grin. “And Liam walked in and made a comment about my tits.”
Daniel stared at her, then started laughing. “Yeah, that sounds about right.”
Enya shook her head, smiling at the memory. The awkwardness, the ridiculousness of it all—things had changed so much since then, and yet here she was, still having awkward run-ins with naked men in Jayden’s kitchen.

Daniel finally sat down across from her, still holding onto the towel like his life depended on it. He studied her for a moment, his expression softening. “So… Jay talked to you?”
She nodded. “Yeah. Last night. He told me everything.”
Daniel hummed in understanding. “And?”
Enya exhaled, rubbing her temples. “And I feel like shit. I was so caught up in my own pain that I didn’t stop to think about how much this was hurting him. I just kept pushing and pushing, like my feelings were the only ones that mattered.” She hesitated. “Do you think he’ll forgive me?”
Daniel leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. “Ny-Ny, you and Jay are solid. I’ve never seen him love someone the way he loves you. He’ll forgive you.” He smirked. “And if he doesn’t, you can always use your boobs as a distraction. It worked on Liam.”
Enya laughed despite herself, shaking her head. “You’re impossible.”
Daniel winked and stood up, finally heading back toward Liam’s room. But not before he yanked the towel off, threw it over his shoulder, and strolled away stark naked, grinning like a devil.
Enya groaned. “Seriously?”
Daniel just waggled his eyebrows. “If you can’t handle the heat, get out of the kitchen.”
And with that, he disappeared into Liam’s bedroom, leaving Enya shaking her head and smiling for the first time that morning.

Enya had just started chopping vegetables when the front door burst open. She barely had time to react before Lexy stepped in, juggling several bags of groceries, a mischievous grin on her face.
"Ny-Ny, I come bearing gifts!" she declared dramatically, dropping the bags onto the counter.
Enya raised an amused eyebrow. "Lex, what the hell is all this?"
"Food, obviously. And wine. Lots of wine. Thought we could cook something together." Lexy winked. "I took Michael to the airport and went shopping afterwards and thought you might need some company."
Enya let out a small chuckle, shaking her head as she grabbed a few items from the bags. She should’ve known Lexy would notice.
They worked in comfortable silence for a while, chopping and stirring, the rhythmic sounds of cooking filling the kitchen. Just as Enya was beginning to relax, a loud, unmistakable moan echoed through the house.
Both women froze.
Another moan. Louder this time.

Lexy slowly turned to Enya, her eyes wide with amusement. "Oh my God. Is that—?"
Before she could finish, another unmistakable noise cut through the air. This time, it was Daniel’s voice, low and breathy, followed by an all-too-satisfied chuckle from Liam.
Lexy clapped a hand over her mouth, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "Holy shit. That’s Danny, isn’t it?"
Enya groaned, covering her face with both hands. "I did not need to hear that."
"I don’t know," Lexy teased, leaning against the counter. "Kinda sounds like they’re having a fantastic time."
Enya shot her a glare, but Lexy only grinned wider.
"I mean, good for them," she continued, tossing a piece of chopped bell pepper into her mouth. "But I really didn’t expect Danny to be so... vocal."
"Can we not talk about this?" Enya begged, turning back to the stove as if cooking could drown out the noises from Liam’s bedroom.
Lexy giggled but mercifully dropped the subject. Instead, she focused on the meal, stirring the pot and adding spices while Enya worked on plating everything.

After a few minutes, the sounds from Liam’s room finally ceased, and Enya let out a sigh of relief.
"So," Lexy said casually, leaning against the counter. "You wanna tell me what’s really on your mind?"
Enya hesitated, swirling a spoon through the sauce absentmindedly. She knew Lexy wouldn’t let it go.
"It’s Jay," she admitted eventually. "Last night was... rough. And not in a good way. He told me something really personal, and I think I hurt him."
Lexy frowned. "What did he tell you?"
Enya hesitated before recounting what Jayden had confessed the night before—his ex, the abortion, the betrayal that still haunted him. When she finished, Lexy whistled lowly.
"Damn." She shook her head. "That’s heavy, Ny-Ny. But you’re not responsible for his past trauma. You didn’t do that to him."
"I know," Enya sighed. "But I still feel guilty. I was so stubborn about my stance on kids. I didn’t even consider how much that must’ve triggered him."
Lexy rolled her eyes playfully. "Okay, first of all, men are idiots. That’s just a fact. Jay included. But he’s your idiot, and he loves you. You guys will figure this out."
Enya let out a soft laugh, but Lexy wasn’t done.

"Besides," she continued with a smirk, "men are basically like dogs. Give them love, attention, and the occasional blowjob, and they’ll follow you anywhere. But give them too much freedom, and they’ll piss on the carpet."
Enya burst into laughter. "Jesus, Lex!"
"I’m serious!" Lexy grinned. "Jay’s a good boy. But he’s still a man. He’ll come around. Just don’t let him mark his territory on the furniture."
Enya shook her head, still laughing. Somehow, Lexy always knew exactly what to say to make her feel better.
The food was nearly ready now, filling the kitchen with a delicious aroma. Lexy took a taste, nodding approvingly.
"Damn, Ny-Ny, if I were Jay, I’d marry you just for this food." She wiggled her eyebrows. "Maybe that should be your backup plan—if he ever gets too dramatic, just feed him and look sexy."
Enya laughed, shaking her head. "You’re impossible."
"And yet, you love me." Lexy smirked, grabbing a couple of plates.
As she sat down to eat, Enya realized something—she still had a long way to go in figuring out where she and Jayden stood. But in this moment, with Lexy’s teasing and the warmth of a home-cooked meal, she felt lighter.

"Alright, enough about my love life," Enya said, starting to eat. "What about you? You and Michael still in the will-they-won’t-they phase, or have you finally admitted you’re obsessed with each other?"
Lexy’s smirk faltered just slightly, but she quickly masked it with a casual shrug. "We’re… figuring things out."
Enya arched an eyebrow. "That’s vague."
"And that’s all you’re getting." Lexy shot her a look before grabbing her plate and plopping down at the table.

Just as Enya and Lexy were settling into their meal, the kitchen door swung open. Daniel appeared in the doorway, this time wearing sweatpants—but still very much shirtless, his hair a mess and a lazy grin on his face.
He strolled in casually, went straight to the counter, and grabbed a plate, piling it with food without a word.
Lexy and Enya exchanged a look. Then Lexy smirked.
"Sleep well, Danny?" she asked, voice dripping with amusement.
Daniel, mid-bite, paused just briefly before giving her a knowing look. "Mhm." He chewed slowly. "You?"
Enya snorted, while Lexy tilted her head innocently. "Oh, I slept great, thanks for asking. What was that just now in the bedroom? Sounded interesting."
Daniel froze for half a second—just enough for Enya to see the wheels turning in his head—before he shrugged and took another bite. "Can’t imagine what you mean."
Lexy feigned offense. "Oh, come on, Danny. You weren’t exactly subtle." She took a sip of her drink, eyes twinkling with mischief. "We thought you were getting exorcised."

Daniel smirked but still refused to acknowledge the teasing. Instead, he leaned against the counter, deliberately standing rather than joining them at the table.
Enya quirked a brow. "Not sitting down, huh?"
Lexy grinned, catching on immediately. "Yeah, what’s up with that? Legs sore?"
Daniel scoffed. "No."
Lexy’s grin widened. "Hips then?"
Daniel rolled his eyes. "No."
Enya took a thoughtful sip of her drink. "Lower back?"
Daniel pointed his fork at her. "You two are insufferable."
Lexy waggled her eyebrows. "That’s not a no."
Enya laughed as Daniel, shaking his head, turned back to his food. He still didn’t sit down, which only fueled their teasing further.
Lexy leaned on her elbow, resting her chin in her hand. "So, how is Liam? Also standing?"
Daniel let out a dramatic sigh, finally giving in. "Liam," he said, "is currently passed out, snoring like a dying walrus."
Lexy nodded solemnly. "A job well done, then."

Enya giggled behind her hand, and even Daniel had to smirk. He stuffed one last bite into his mouth before grabbing a handful of grapes from the counter.
Daniel exhaled dramatically, rolling his eyes. But then—his grin turned positively devilish.
"Alright, fine." He wiped his mouth with a napkin and leaned forward. "You wanna talk details? Let’s talk details."
Lexy blinked. "Huh?"
"You wanna tease me about your brother?" Daniel continued, voice dripping with amusement. "Cool. But see, Lex, I have no shame. So let’s discuss the absolute masterpiece that was just now."
Lexy’s smirk faltered just slightly.
"First of all, Liam? Strong as fuck. Like, I know he lifts, but damn." Daniel grinned, taking another bite as if he were just casually chatting about the weather. "And those hands? Jesus. It’s like he was sculpted specifically to—"
"NOPE!" Lexy clapped her hands over her ears. "I do not need to know what my brother does with his hands!"
Daniel, absolutely thriving, kept going. "Oh, you have to know, Lex. His grip? Insane. And the way he—"
"I SWEAR TO GOD, DANNY—"
"—pinned me down—"
"STOP!" Lexy grabbed the nearest kitchen towel and launched it at Daniel’s face.
Daniel howled with laughter, dodging the towel with ease. "You started this!" he declared, pointing at her. "I was just minding my business, eating my food, and then—"
"Minding your business?! You were LOUD!"
"Well, what can I say? Your brother is very talented."
"I WILL STAB YOU."

Enya, nearly in tears from laughter, had to brace herself against the counter. "Okay, okay—truce! Before Lexy actually murders you."
Lexy huffed, crossing her arms. "You’re a menace."
Daniel smirked, popping a grape into his mouth. "A satisfied menace."
Lexy groaned. "You are so lucky I like you."
"I really am," Daniel agreed, throwing her a wink before grabbing a bottle of water. He backed toward the door, clearly pleased with himself.
"Anyway, ladies—this has been fun. But I have a very exhausted man to get back to." He turned to Enya. "The food is amazing, by the way. Love you both. Bye!"
And with that, he waltzed out—whistling to himself as he disappeared down the hall.
The moment the door clicked shut, Lexy turned to Enya.
"I am never bringing up Liam’s sex life again."
Enya wiped at her eyes, still giggling. "Yeah, that… kinda backfired."
Lexy exhaled. "Remind me to kill him later."
"Noted."

Chapter Text

Dinner was over, and the group had settled into a lazy sprawl on the couch. Enya leaned back, rubbing her stomach with a satisfied sigh. Liam nursed a beer, Daniel lounged in the corner with half-closed eyes, and Lexy tapped her fingers rhythmically against her knee, lost in thought.
Then, a mischievous grin spread across her face.
"Hey, how about a little jam session? Like we used to do?"
She turned to Liam, raising an eyebrow in challenge. "Or is that too sentimental for you?"
Liam, who had just taken a sip of his beer, paused for a moment, his expression darkening slightly. He knew exactly what she was referring to—their old days before everything fell apart.
"We don’t even have any instruments here," he grumbled.
Enya, leaning against the kitchen counter, shook her head. "Actually, we do. Jayden hasn’t moved his gear to the studio yet. Everything’s still downstairs in the basement—microphones, guitars, bass, and his keyboard. The only thing missing is the drum kit, and that’s at Michael’s."
Lexy threw her arms up triumphantly. "Perfect! No excuses, then!"

A few minutes later, they found themselves in the basement. Dust particles danced in the dim light of the ceiling lamp, and the scent of wood, old amplifiers, and a faint trace of Jayden’s shampoo hung in the air. His gear was neatly stored in cases, but it didn’t take long for everyone to find what they needed.
Enya took a seat at the keyboard, running her fingers over the keys before switching it on. Lexy grabbed a microphone, spinning it in her hand before testing her voice with a few notes. Liam picked up the bass, plucking a few deep, vibrating notes to check the tuning. Daniel strapped on an electric guitar, grinning as he strummed a few distorted chords that echoed through the basement.

"Okay, what do we play?" Enya asked with a smile.
"Let’s just warm up first," Liam suggested, launching into a simple bassline.
Daniel jumped in with a riff, Enya added chords, and Lexy hummed along at first, letting her voice flow into soft, improvised lyrics. The first few minutes were pure chaos—off-key notes, bursts of laughter, Lexy messing up the timing, and Daniel dramatically overplaying guitar solos like he was on a stadium tour.
But slowly, it all started coming together.
They kicked things off with a classic: In the End by Linkin Park. Enya played the familiar piano intro while Liam locked in the bassline. Lexy took over Chester Bennington’s vocals with surprising accuracy, while Daniel confidently rapped Mike Shinoda’s verses. When the chorus hit, they all sang along, the basement momentarily transforming into a full-blown concert.
Things got heavier when they played Antivist by Bring me the Horizon. Lexy growled the opening lines, her voice raw and intense. Daniel backed her up with brutal screams, while Liam and Enya tried to keep straight faces, barely holding back laughter as Lexy fully threw herself into the performance—headbanging, stomping, and flipping off an imaginary crowd as she shouted:
"Middle fingers up if you don’t give a fuck!"

For their final song, they chose Chokehold. Lexy’s voice took on a hypnotic, melancholic quality as she sang, and Daniel and Enya found themselves caught off guard by the depth of emotion in her performance. When the last note faded, there was a brief, stunned silence.
Daniel blinked. "Holy shit, Lex. Your range is insane."
Enya nodded enthusiastically. "How the hell did you get that good?"
Lexy, who had been brimming with energy moments ago, suddenly looked flustered. She scratched the back of her neck and muttered, "I just… practiced, I guess."
Before anyone could add to that, Liam spoke up.
"Let’s play something from back then."
Lexy’s stomach tightened. She knew exactly what he meant. Their old band. The songs they had written together before everything fell apart.
Daniel, sensing a shift in the atmosphere, narrowed his eyes. "What kind of songs?"
Liam set his bass aside and reached for Daniel’s guitar instead. "You know. The old ones." His gaze locked onto Lexy’s. "Come on, you still remember the lyrics, don’t you?"
Lexy hesitated. A lump formed in her throat, heavier than she had anticipated.
She could feel Daniel and Enya’s curious eyes on her, waiting to see what she would do. For a split second, she considered backing out, laughing it off, changing the subject—anything but this.
But then she exhaled slowly and reached for the bass.
"Alright," she murmured, more to herself than to the others.
Daniel and Enya exchanged glances before taking a seat, letting Liam and Lexy take center stage. And as Liam strummed the first familiar chords, something inside Lexy shifted.
For a fleeting moment, they weren’t who they were now.
They were the kids they used to be. The ones who thought music could save them.
And as the first notes filled the room, the past came rushing back—whether she was ready for it or not.

Lexy felt the familiar weight of the bass strap pressing against her shoulder as she adjusted the instrument into place. Her fingers instinctively slid over the strings, searching for the first notes she had played so many times before. Liam leaned against the amplifier, tuning the guitar by ear, his brow furrowed in concentration.
Daniel and Enya had settled into the old, slightly worn-out leather armchair in the basement. Enya pulled her knees to her chest, while Daniel leaned back with a faint grin, ready to simply listen.
“So, what was your thing back then?” Daniel asked, curiosity flickering in his eyes.
Liam let out a quiet snort. “Anger. And a little more anger. Followed by even more anger.”
Lexy let out a dry chuckle, but the smile didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Well, what can I say? We had plenty of reasons to be pissed off.”
She took a deep breath. Her fingers began to move, and suddenly, it was as if a time machine had yanked her straight back into the past. The bassline kicked in—deep, heavy, pulsing. Liam followed with the guitar, distorted chords rumbling through the basement like distant thunder.
The air felt heavier.
Lexy’s voice cut through the silence, soft at first, then rising with unexpected intensity:

You swore that you loved me—
Guess that was a lie.
While I was bleeding for you,
You were feeding me alibis.

Daniel and Enya exchanged glances. It was one thing to hear Lexy talk—sharp, fast, defensive. But hearing her sing like this was something else entirely.
Liam’s grip on the guitar tightened, the chords pressing down harder, angrier.

You swore you'd be faithful—
Now look where we are.
While I was breaking for you,
You were leaving another scar.

Lexy’s voice trembled for just a second before she pushed through, her fingers digging into the bass. She knew these words weren’t hers—not really. But the raw pain in them, the fury at being betrayed—that, she understood all too well. She forced herself to keep going.

But it didn’t work.
Suddenly, it was too much.
Her breathing hitched, her chest tightening as if something was squeezing the air from her lungs. Her hands went numb, the room closing in around her. She kept playing, but her mind screamed at her to stop. Stop. Stop, for fuck’s sake, stop.
Then, abruptly, she tore her hands away from the bass, letting it thud against her hip.
"Fuck," she murmured, shaking her head as she rubbed a shaky hand over her face.
Silence.
Liam turned to her, his fingers hovering over the strings. "Lex…?"
She took a deep breath, forcing a weak smile. "Sorry. I… I just can't right now."
Liam watched her for a moment, then gave a small nod. Without another word, he set the guitar aside and sat down on one of the amplifier cases.
Daniel and Enya exchanged a glance, both unsure whether to say something or stay quiet.
Lexy let out a dry chuckle, pressing her fingertips against her temples. "Damn it. I knew this was a bad idea."
"Hey," Enya leaned forward, her voice soft but firm. "You were amazing."
Lexy laughed, but there was no humor in it. "Yeah, sure. I'm a fucking natural at puking up my past."
Daniel, who had been silent until now, stood up and walked over to her. "You're better than you think. You felt that just now. That’s not a bad thing, Lex. That’s real."
Lexy shook her head. "Some things shouldn't be real."
Liam studied her for a long moment before standing up as well. "I’ll get us something to drink. Anyone want anything?"
Enya raised a hand. "Beer."
Daniel shrugged. "Something that burns."
Lexy pressed her lips into a thin line. "Nothing for me."
Liam nodded and headed upstairs.
Left behind was the unspoken question hanging in the air:
How much of the past can you bury before it comes back to haunt you?

Daniel shook his head, leaning back against the worn-out leather armchair.
“I don’t get it,” he murmured, his voice thoughtful. “Why the hell aren’t you on a stage somewhere, tearing it up with a bass in your hands? You’re insanely talented, Lex.”
Lexy pressed her lips together, her fingers still trembling slightly from the abrupt end of the song. She shrugged, her gaze fixed on the floor.
“I wasn’t that good,” she muttered, as if that settled the matter.
Daniel raised an eyebrow. “Bullshit. That was raw, powerful. The kind of thing people pay to see.”
Lexy let out a dry scoff, but it lacked its usual bite. “Yeah, well… talent doesn’t mean shit when you don’t wanna be seen.”
Daniel studied her for a moment, as if trying to piece together everything he knew about her. Before he could push any further, Enya spoke up.
“She had her reasons for leaving it all behind.”
Daniel shot her a glance before turning back to Lexy. “That so?”
Lexy crossed her arms over her chest, as if shielding herself from any more questions. “Yeah. And that’s all there is to say about it.”
For a second, it looked like Daniel might argue, but before he could, Liam’s voice rang out from upstairs.
“Ny-Ny, your phone’s ringing!”
Enya startled, her eyes widening. “It’s gotta be Jay!” She shot up from her seat and rushed upstairs, her excitement barely contained.
Lexy and Daniel exchanged a look before following her more slowly. Back in the living room, they sank into the couch. Liam handed out drinks—beer for Enya, something strong for himself and Daniel. Lexy declined, instead leaning back against the cushions.
A soft thump caught her attention as Gremlin jumped onto the couch. Without hesitation, he curled up beside her, pressing his warm body against her leg. Lexy let out a slow breath, her hand moving instinctively to run through his fur.
“Good boy,” she murmured, barely audible.
Daniel took a sip of his drink, then glanced at Liam. “That Jay on the phone?”
Liam only nodded, his gaze flicking toward the hallway, where Enya had disappeared.
The room suddenly felt quieter, heavier. Maybe it was the music still lingering in their minds. Maybe it was Jayden’s call. Maybe it was just the past, sneaking into the present, uninvited and as heavy as ever.

Enya rushed into the bedroom to have some privacy for their conversation. Her heart pounded as she hastily pressed the accept button.
“Jay?” Her voice was a little breathless, her palms slightly sweaty.
“Hey, love.” His voice was soft and familiar, but heavy with exhaustion. “Sorry it took so long. We just got in a cab. I wanted to call you right away.”
A smile spread across her face without her even realizing it. “You sound tired.”
“No surprise there. I’ve had, what… maybe an hour of sleep in the last twenty hours?” She heard the faint squeak of leather—probably him leaning back in his seat. “But at least you sound more awake than me. What are you up to?”
“Oh, we had a little jam session in the basement,” she said as she slowly sank back onto the couch. Gremlin climbed onto her lap as if sensing she needed something to hold onto.
Jay scoffed playfully. “Great. I leave for one day, and the party starts without me.”
Enya grinned. “Well, someone’s gotta keep things interesting while you’re gone.”
“I expect video evidence.”
“That depends.” She stretched the word teasingly. “How was your flight?”
“Long. Cramped. Loud. And Michael spent the whole time watching dumb movies instead of keeping me company.”
“Sounds like him.”
“Exactly.” Jay yawned softly. “But at least we’re here now. Should be at the hotel in ten minutes or so.”
Enya bit her lip. She knew this was the perfect opportunity—if she waited any longer, it would feel like she was avoiding it. Taking a steadying breath, she forced herself to speak.
“Jay…” She hesitated. “I… I’ve been thinking a lot about our conversation yesterday.”
On the other end of the line, there was a brief silence. Then, Jay inhaled audibly.
“Okay…” His voice was gentle but cautious. “And?”
Enya ran her fingers through Gremlin’s fur, the little ball of warmth in her lap grounding her. “I just… I wanted to say I’m sorry. I was so stubborn, so focused on defending my own perspective that I didn’t even stop to think about how you were feeling.”
“Enya…”
“No, let me say this.” She took a deep breath. “I… I don’t want to hurt you. And I know that what we talked about yesterday isn’t just some random topic to you. It matters. And I just… brushed it off.”
Another brief pause. Then, she heard Jayden sigh softly.
“Thank you, love.” His voice was warm, tired, but sincere. “I know this isn’t easy for you. And I don’t want to pressure you into anything. I just… I just want us to talk about it without it feeling like a battle.”
She pressed her lips together, then nodded—even though he couldn’t see it. “Yeah. I know. I’ll try.”
A small, exhausted chuckle came from Jayden. “That’s all I can ask for.”
She smiled, but the weight of the conversation still lingered between them. This wasn’t a resolution, not a neat little bow tying everything up—it was just a step forward.
“Get some rest, Jay.” Her voice softened. “I don’t want you completely wrecked tomorrow.”
“Mhm.” Another yawn. “I’ll call you when I wake up, okay?”
“Promise?”
“Always.”
A quiet warmth spread through her chest as they said their goodbyes. But as she lowered her phone, a faint pressure still remained.
It was a start.
But was it enough?

Chapter Text

The taxi smelled like cheap air freshener and spilled coffee as it rolled through the streets of Los Angeles. The skyline was bathed in the warm glow of the setting sun, but Jayden barely noticed. He stared out the window, his thoughts still lingering on his phone call with Enya.
“So, what do you think management has planned for us?” Michael finally broke the silence. He leaned back with his arms crossed, like he was just here to watch the chaos unfold from a safe distance.
Jayden rubbed his temple with two fingers. “Probably social media bullshit. Interviews. PR appointments. Maybe they’ll finally try to force TikTok on me.”
Michael scoffed in amusement. “You? On TikTok? I’d pay money to see that.”
Jayden grimaced. “Forget it. I already sing for strangers, that’s enough.”
They drove on in silence for a moment before Michael scrolled through his playlist and hit play. “Los Angeles is burning…” Greg Graffin’s voice filled the taxi.
Jayden shot him a sideways glance. “Very subtle.”
“I try my best.” Michael smirked and leaned back, satisfied.

The hotel was exactly what Jayden expected—over-the-top fancy, with golden accents and a lobby so massive they could have hosted a concert in it.
Michael let his gaze sweep over the decor, raising an eyebrow. “Am I supposed to kiss the golden faucet now or what?”
“I hope you’re not too disappointed your room doesn’t come with a personal butler.”
“Oh, I am. Deeply.”
After checking in, they went up to their rooms to freshen up. Jayden took a moment to breathe. Something about this trip felt… off. He couldn’t put his finger on it, but the uneasy feeling in his gut wouldn’t go away.
Then came the message from Riley Rodriguez: “Come to the hotel bar. Important meeting.”
Michael read it aloud and rolled his eyes. “Well, that was fast. I was hoping to finish writing my minibar review.”
“You better hurry, or all that’s left will be still water.”
“…you monster.”

The hotel bar was dimly lit and stylish, filled with leather chairs and an impressive liquor selection. Rodriguez was already seated at a table, a whiskey glass in hand, as Jayden and Michael approached.
“Gentlemen! Sit down, have a drink—on me.”
Michael ordered a Scotch, Jayden just asked for water. Rodriguez gave him a brief look but didn’t comment.
“So, what’s this about?” Jayden asked, leaning back in his seat.
Rodriguez smiled smoothly. “Your social media presence. We’ve brought someone in to help you guys take it to the next level. A real expert.”
Jayden and Michael exchanged a glance.
“Oh, and here she is now.”
Jayden turned around—and froze.
Scarlett. THE legendary ex-girlfriend.
Platinum blonde hair. Pink acrylic nails. A smile so sweet it almost hurt.
“Jay! It’s so good to see you again!”
Michael slowly raised his glass, giving her a look that was somewhere between amusement and disgust. Then he muttered dryly:
“Well, if it isn’t the mother of all surprises.”

Scarlett slipped gracefully into the seat across from Jayden, crossing her long legs with practiced ease. Casually, she tucked a platinum-blonde strand behind her ear, her pink-manicured fingers lingering just a second too long.
“I’m really excited to work with you,” she said, her smile polished to perfection. To an outsider, it might seem charming—warm, even. But to Jayden, it had all the subtlety of a blade pressed to his throat. “The band has an incredible reach, but there’s still so much untapped potential. I’m here to make sure you get the attention you deserve.”
Jayden met her gaze, his face unreadable. “Whose idea was this?”
Rodriguez raised his hands. “The firm recommended her. Best credentials, years of experience, knows the industry inside and out—”
“—and just happens to have a history with me.”
Rodriguez shrugged. “Business is business, Jay. Scarlett is a professional.”
Jay pressed his lips together. “A word.”
He stood up, gesturing for Rodriguez to step away from the table with him. Michael, meanwhile, remained behind.
“Tell me this is a joke, Riley.”
Jayden’s voice was low, but sharp enough to cut.
Rodriguez sighed, shoving his hands into his jacket pockets. “Come on, Jay. We spent weeks looking for a social media strategist who actually understands metal, tour promotion, and artist branding. Scarlett’s the best in the field. Your history? Unfortunate, sure. But you’re a professional. And so is she.”
“I want someone else.”
Rodriguez slowly shook his head. “Not happening.”
Jayden scoffed. “Why not?”
“Because the firm already paid her, and the contracts are signed. You can survive this, Jay. It’s just a few months.”
Jay let his gaze drop for a moment, fists clenching at his sides. “Fantastic.”
Rodriguez gave him a firm pat on the shoulder, as if to say: Deal with it.

Meanwhile, Michael sat at the table with Scarlett, eyeing her as if she were a particularly unappetizing garnish on an otherwise perfect steak.
She noticed. Of course, she did. But she didn’t acknowledge it outright. Instead, she tilted her head slightly and offered him that same polished smile. “What?”
Michael swirled the amber liquid in his glass. “Nothing.”
“Oh, please. I can practically hear you crafting some snarky remark.”
He took a slow sip, then set the glass down with an exaggerated sigh. “I was just debating whether your nails or your personality are faker.”
Scarlett blinked—just for a split second, her mask slipped. But then, she chuckled softly. “Oh, Michael. Still the same, I see.”
“Well, not everyone reinvents their image every few years, do they?”
Her smile stayed in place, but her eyes sharpened. “I do hope you won’t let your personal opinions get in the way of business. After all, we’ll be spending quite a lot of time together.”
Michael leaned forward slightly, flashing a slow, smug grin. “Oh, I’m sure you’ll enjoy every second of it just as much as I will.”
Jayden returned then, his expression making it clear: No way out.
Rodriguez sat back down, raising his glass. “Alright! Now that that’s settled—to a successful collaboration!”
Michael exhaled, muttering toward Jayden, “You know, I could’ve sworn we came to L.A. to work, not to star in a goddamn soap opera.”
Scarlett lifted her glass, that practiced smile still firmly in place. “I have a feeling this will be… interesting.”
Jayden didn’t return her smile.

***

The moment Jayden stepped into his hotel room, he exhaled sharply, rolling his shoulders as if trying to physically shake off the tension coiling inside him. The meeting in the hotel bar had left him feeling like he’d walked straight into a trap—one he hadn’t seen coming until it was too late. He ran a hand through his hair, pacing across the plush carpet, his jaw clenched so tightly it ached.
Michael, who had been silent on the elevator ride up, finally spoke as he dropped on Jay's bed. He watched Jay with an unreadable expression, his arms crossed over his chest. "Alright, mate, calm the fuck down before you burn a hole in the floor."
Jay shot him a glare, but the effect was lost under the weight of his frustration. "Did you see that? Fucking Scarlett." He spat the name like it physically pained him. "I can’t believe this shit."
Michael leaned against the headboard, tilting his head slightly. His tone was as neutral as ever, but there was a sharpness behind his words. "Oh, I saw it. Hard to miss, really. She walked in like she fucking owned the place."
Jay let out a dry, humorless laugh, shaking his head. "And now I’m supposed to work with her? Are they fucking serious? After everything?"
Michael exhaled through his nose. "Guess the management’s idea of a ‘good fit’ comes with a side of personal hell. Would’ve been nice if they at least pretended to give a shit about your opinion."
Jay raked his fingers through his hair again and turned toward the window, staring out at the neon-lit sprawl of Los Angeles. The city stretched before him, alive and breathing, but all he could feel was the noose tightening around his neck.
A tense silence settled between them until Michael finally broke it. His voice was calm, deliberate. "Look, you’ve got two choices. You can stay here, stew in this bullshit, and let her live in your head rent-free... or you can come out with me, have a few drinks, and forget about her for a few hours."
Jay didn’t respond immediately. His fingers tapped against the windowsill, his mind waging a silent war with itself. The last thing he wanted to do was go out and pretend everything was fine. But at the same time… sitting here, replaying the last hour over and over in his head, wasn’t exactly a better option.
Michael, ever patient, just waited.
Finally, Jay sighed and turned around, rubbing the back of his neck. "Fine. But if this night turns to shit, I’m blaming you."
Michael smirked. "I’ll take that risk."

The club they found wasn’t one of those pretentious celebrity hotspots where influencers lined up to be seen. No, this place was loud, gritty, and packed with people who actually gave a damn about the music. The air was thick with the scent of sweat, alcohol, and the faint trace of cigarette smoke drifting in from the rooftop lounge.
A local metal band was tearing up the stage, their sound raw and unpolished, but full of energy. The crowd fed off it, bodies moving in rhythm, heads nodding, voices screaming along to lyrics Jay didn’t know.
For the first time since landing in L.A., he felt something close to normal.
Michael leaned against the bar, nursing a whiskey while watching the band. "Not bad," he mused, his voice just loud enough to be heard over the music.
Jay took a sip of his own drink, scanning the room. "Yeah. Feels good to just... be here, y’know? No expectations. No bullshit."
Michael gave him a knowing look but didn’t press. Instead, they just stood there, letting the music wash over them.
After a while, Jay offered to get another round. "You good with whiskey, or you want something else?"
"Whiskey’s fine." Michael handed him his empty glass, then nodded toward the crowd. "Take your time. I’ll be here, watching drunk people make terrible life choices."
Jay snorted and made his way toward the bar, weaving through the crowd with practiced ease.
He wasn’t thinking about Scarlett. Not anymore.
Or at least, he hadn’t been—until he heard her voice.

"Well, well… enjoying L.A. so far?"
The words were smooth, casual, but they carried an edge that made his stomach twist.
Jay stopped in his tracks. His fingers instinctively curled around the glass he’d just been handed. Slowly, as if forcing himself to face an oncoming train, he turned his head.
And there she was.
Scarlett.
She looked almost exactly the same. Platinum blonde hair, styled in effortless waves. A sleek black dress that fit her like a second skin. And those goddamn pink nails—long, artificial, wrapped around the stem of a wine glass.
She smiled, but it didn’t reach her eyes.
Jay exhaled through his nose. "Didn’t expect to see you here."
Scarlett tilted her head slightly. "Didn’t expect to see you either. Guess fate works in funny ways, huh?"
He scoffed. "Yeah. Hilarious."
She took a slow sip of her drink, her gaze never leaving his. "You look good, Jay. Just like old times."
His jaw tightened. "Not interested in reminiscing."
"Oh, come on." She leaned in slightly, her voice dipping into something softer. "We had some good times here, didn’t we?"
Jay turned back to the bar, signaling for the bartender to hurry up with Michael’s drink. "I’m not doing this, Scarlett."
She let out a small laugh, shaking her head. "Relax. I’m just making conversation."
"Right." His voice was flat, unimpressed.
And then, just as the bartender slid the whiskey across the counter, she reached out. A light touch, barely there—her manicured fingers grazing his forearm.
"It’s really nice seeing you again, Jay," she murmured, her voice dripping with something that made his stomach tighten in the worst way.
And just like that, she turned and walked away, leaving him standing there with a drink in his hand and a storm brewing in his head.

When Jay returned, Michael barely had to glance at him to know something was wrong.
"That bad, huh?" he drawled, taking his drink.
Jay took a deep sip before setting his glass down. "Scarlett."
Michael’s expression darkened instantly. "Where?"
"At the bar." Jay exhaled sharply, rubbing a hand over his face. "She’s already playing games."
Michael was silent for a moment, then hummed thoughtfully. "You wanna bail?"
Jay hesitated. For a split second, the idea of walking out seemed tempting. But then he straightened his shoulders, shaking his head. "No. I’m not letting her ruin my night."
Michael gave a small nod of approval and clinked his glass against Jay’s. "Good. Then drink up, mate. You’re gonna need it."
Jay exhaled and took another sip, trying to wash away the bitter taste Scarlett had left behind.
But no matter how much whiskey he drank, the past still lingered on his tongue.

Chapter Text

A sharp knock at the door pulled Jayden from his restless sleep. He groaned, blinking against the morning light that seeped through the curtains. His head felt heavy, his limbs sluggish. The night before had been a blur of loud music, neon lights, and too many drinks, though none of it had been enough to drown out the unease that lingered in his chest.
Still half-asleep, he pushed himself off the mattress, rubbing his eyes as he shuffled toward the door. He didn’t even check the peephole—big mistake.
The moment he cracked the door open, his body stiffened.
Scarlett.
She stood there in the dimly lit hallway, a practiced, almost hesitant smile on her lips. Her platinized hair was tied into a sleek ponytail, and those artificial nails of hers gleamed under the soft lighting. She was dressed professionally—too professionally for someone who had partied the night before—her crisp white blouse tucked neatly into a high-waisted skirt. The contrast between her businesslike appearance and the warmth in her eyes made Jayden’s stomach churn.
“Morning,” she said softly. “Can we talk?”

Jayden exhaled slowly, running a hand through his already messy hair. He wasn’t in the mood for this. Not now, not ever. But slamming the door in her face would only escalate things, and the last thing he needed was drama on top of everything else.
Reluctantly, he stepped aside. “Make it quick.”
Scarlett walked in without hesitation, her perfume—a scent that once made his heart race—now feeling suffocating in the confined space. She perched herself on the edge of his bed like she belonged there, crossing her legs elegantly.
Jayden, still bare-chested from sleep, grabbed a T-shirt from his suitcase and pulled it over his head, as if the thin fabric could somehow shield him from the weight of her presence. He didn’t sit next to her. Instead, he chose the chair by the desk, putting as much distance between them as possible.
Scarlett sighed, her gaze flickering to the floor for a moment before she spoke.
“I think we need to clear the air,” she said. “It’s obvious there’s a lot of unresolved tension between us.”
Jayden leaned back, arms crossed. “What gave you that idea?”

She smiled faintly, but there was something almost sad in her expression. “Come on, Jay… I know I wasn’t perfect. I made mistakes. I hurt you.” She let out a soft breath. “And I’m really sorry for that.”
He wanted to scoff, to tell her it was too little, too late. But instead, he just watched her, his jaw tightening.
Scarlett continued, her voice gentle, weaving a careful web of words. “I’ve had a lot of time to think. And I realize now that our relationship didn’t fall apart just because of me. We both made mistakes.”
Jayden exhaled sharply through his nose. “Yeah? Like what?”
She hesitated—just long enough to make it look real—then met his gaze. “You lied to me about Alexandria.”
His stomach twisted.
He said nothing.
Scarlett tilted her head slightly, watching him. “I knew, Jay. The whole time, I knew. And I kept waiting for you to come clean. But you didn’t.” Her voice wavered, her eyes growing glassy. “Do you know how that felt?”

Jayden clenched his fists. Of course, he knew. He had felt like absolute shit for it. But hearing her say it out loud, with unshed tears shimmering in her eyes, made it worse.
She wiped at her cheek, letting out a shaky laugh. “I was so angry. Not just because of Lexy, but because you looked me in the eyes and pretended like nothing had happened. Even after our relationship, you never had the guts to tell me. You just—” She shook her head, biting her lip as if holding back more emotion. “I wasn’t enough for you, was I?”
Jayden swallowed hard.
His instinct was to tell her she was wrong. That it wasn’t about her. That Lexy had been a stupid, selfish mistake. But the words caught in his throat.
Scarlett took his silence as an answer.
She exhaled shakily, then, after a long pause, said, “And then… there was the other thing.”
Jayden frowned. “What other thing?”
She hesitated again, then whispered, “The baby.”
His chest tightened as if the air had been sucked out of the room.

Scarlett looked down, her hands gripping the hem of her skirt. “I thought I was doing the right thing,” she murmured. “We were young, Jay. We weren’t ready. You were drowning in your music, I was barely holding onto my career… How could we have raised a child like that?”
Jayden’s throat felt dry.
He had buried this. Convinced himself it was better not to think about it. But now, she was forcing him to look at it again—to feel it again.
Scarlett sniffled, a single tear slipping down her cheek. “I knew that if I told you, you would’ve dropped everything. You would’ve given up your dreams for me, for us. But I couldn’t let you do that.”
Her voice cracked on the last sentence, and that was the moment Jayden felt himself unraveling.
“I did it for us, Jayden. For our future.”
Her shoulders trembled, and before he could even think, before he could remind himself of all the ways she had hurt him, he was moving.
Scarlett barely had time to react before his arms were around her, his grip firm yet hesitant. She melted into him instantly, her face pressing against his chest, her quiet sobs dampening the fabric of his shirt.
Jayden didn’t say anything. He didn’t trust his own voice.
His mind screamed at him to pull away—to not fall into this trap. But his heart, traitorous as ever, whispered that maybe, just maybe, she wasn’t lying.
And Scarlett?
Scarlett just closed her eyes, the faintest hint of a victorious smile tugging at her lips where he couldn’t see.

Jayden felt Scarlett’s sobs gradually subside, her body relaxing slightly under his touch. Hesitantly, he let go of her, his hands slipping from her shoulders. She sniffled softly, wiping at her tear-streaked face with one perfectly manicured hand before forcing a shaky smile.
“I’m sorry,” she murmured, shaking her head as if irritated with herself. “I didn’t mean to dump all of that on you.”
Jayden remained silent. He didn’t know what to say. Some part of him still screamed that this was just another one of her manipulations—but damn it, it had felt real.
Scarlett took a deep breath, collecting herself. Then she met his gaze with a look that was almost hopeful. “I just... I hope that maybe you can understand things a little better now. The way they happened back then.” She let the words linger for a moment before adding, “And that we—you, me, and Michael—can stay professional while we have to work together. For everyone’s sake.”
Jayden held her gaze, his jaw tightening. He didn’t want to give her the satisfaction of thinking she had gotten to him. He didn’t want to let her believe she had softened him. But at the same time… wasn’t this what he had always wanted? Closure?
“We’ll make it work,” he said finally, his voice neutral.

Scarlett studied him for a moment, then smiled. “I’m glad to hear that.” She rose from the bed, smoothing out her dress before turning toward the door. But just before leaving, she glanced back at him, lips curling into something between amusement and satisfaction.
“I’m looking forward to seeing you again.”
With that, she disappeared, leaving behind only the lingering trace of her perfume.
Jayden sat motionless, staring at the closed door.
Silence.
Slowly, he leaned back in his chair, dragging a hand down his face.
This felt… wrong. It was Scarlett. Of course, this was a game to her. It was always a game.
But then he thought about her tears. The pain in her voice when she spoke about the past. She hadn’t asked for an apology. Hadn’t begged for forgiveness. She had simply explained.
His stomach twisted.
Maybe… maybe I really wasn’t as innocent as I liked to believe.
The thought was like a hairline fracture in his conviction, barely noticeable but impossible to ignore. And the longer he sat there, the deeper it spread.
Shit.

A sudden, firm knock at the door made him flinch.
“Jay! Breakfast before everything’s gone.” Michael’s voice was relaxed as always, but there was an undertone that left no room for argument.
Jay let out a slow breath, pushing the thoughts aside. Scarlett’s words, her tears—they would haunt him later. There would be plenty of time for that.
But right now?
Right now, he needed a damn coffee.
“Be there in a minute.”
Jayden sat at the small desk in his hotel room, one hand rubbing his temples as he tried to push away the lingering thoughts Scarlett had planted in his mind. Her words echoed relentlessly, weaving doubt into the anger he had held onto for years. She cried, his mind reminded him, as if that somehow changed everything.
He sighed heavily, staring at the muted television screen, his reflection faintly visible in the dark display. He didn't know what to think anymore.
Another knock on the door snapped him out of his thoughts.
"Jay, you alive in there?" Michael's voice carried through the door, casual but with an undertone of concern.
Jayden hesitated for a second before pushing himself up and heading to the door. He barely had time to open it before Michael stepped inside, eyeing him carefully.
"Mate, you look like you've been having a staring contest with a ghost," Michael remarked, shutting the door behind him. "Come on, breakfast awaits. You need food before you start brooding yourself into an early grave."
Jayden sighed but couldn't help the small smile tugging at his lips. "Fine, fine. But if all they have is dry-ass toast and rubbery eggs, I'm blaming you."
Michael grinned. "Deal. Now get your ass moving."

Down at the breakfast buffet, the scent of fresh coffee and fried bacon filled the air. The restaurant was buzzing with guests, but luckily, Michael had managed to grab them a decent table near the window. Jayden piled his plate with an absurd amount of food—eggs, bacon, toast, fruit—because if nothing else, he could at least enjoy a proper meal.
Michael took a sip of his coffee, watching Jayden dig into his food. "So, what’s the plan for today? Please tell me we’re not stuck in meetings all day."
Jayden shrugged. "No clue yet. Haven’t heard from Riley."
"Perfect." Michael leaned back, stretching his arms. "Then I say we make the most of it. Let’s actually enjoy L.A. for once."
Jayden raised a brow. "You mean sightseeing? Like actual tourists?"
Michael smirked. "Why not? Hollywood Walk of Fame, Santa Monica Pier—hell, we could even hit Venice Beach if you feel like watching some weird shit go down."
Jayden chuckled, shaking his head. "Alright, fine. A distraction sounds good."
Michael lifted his coffee in a mock toast. "To being two idiots lost in L.A. then."
Jayden clinked his juice glass against Michael’s mug. "To that."

**

After a couple of hours exploring the city, Jayden and Michael found themselves wandering through a quieter street, away from the usual tourist chaos. The sun was bright, casting long shadows along the pavement as they passed various storefronts. Cafés, record shops, and then—a sleek little tattoo studio nestled between a thrift store and a barbershop.
Michael came to an abrupt stop, his gaze locking onto the vibrant artwork displayed in the window. Elaborate floral designs, intricate botanical patterns, and even a few colorful moths were showcased on the sample boards. His kind of style.
Jayden, who had taken a few more steps before realizing Michael wasn’t beside him anymore, turned around with a knowing sigh. “Oh no.”
Michael smirked. “Oh yes.”
Jay folded his arms. “You’re seriously thinking about getting a tattoo right now?”
“Why not?” Michael gestured at the shop. “It looks solid, the designs are nice, and I could use a little L.A. souvenir.”
Jayden shook his head. “We left the hotel to grab coffee and do some sightseeing, not for you to voluntarily get stabbed by a needle.”
Michael grinned. “Coffee is temporary. Ink is forever.”
Jay let out a dramatic sigh, already knowing there was no talking him out of it. “Fine. But if you end up with some tacky Hollywood sign on your ass, I’m disowning you.”
Michael laughed, pushing open the door. “Relax, mate. You know I have taste.”

Jayden followed him inside, the scent of disinfectant and fresh ink hitting him instantly. The studio had a cozy but professional feel—walls lined with framed artwork, the soft hum of a tattoo gun somewhere in the back.
As Michael approached the counter, Jay slumped onto a nearby chair, arms crossed. “So? What’s it gonna be this time?”
Michael casually flipped through a few design books, his fingers skimming over delicate floral patterns and bold botanical pieces. “Something small. Floral.”
Jay raised a brow at that. “Floral, huh? That’s nothing new for you.”
Michael smirked. “Most of my ink is floral, genius.” He pointed at his forearm, where a cascade of vines and blossoms wove around a vividly colored moth. “I just think it’d be nice to add another piece.”
Jay studied him for a moment, then leaned back with a shrug. “Fair enough. At least you’re consistent.”
The tattoo artist, a heavily inked guy with stretched earlobes and a chill demeanor, came over to discuss the design. After a bit of back-and-forth, Michael settled on a delicate but vibrant addition to his existing sleeve—another piece of nature’s chaos inked into his skin.

As the artist prepped his station, Michael rolled up his sleeve and got comfortable. Jayden, meanwhile, fished out his phone.
Michael narrowed his eyes. “Don’t even think about it.”
Click.
Jayden grinned. “Too late.”
Michael groaned. “If you post that anywhere, I swear—”
“Relax.” Jay smirked, leaning back in his seat. “Just making sure we all remember whose idea this was when you start whining later.”
Michael let out a quiet chuckle as the tattoo gun buzzed to life. “Screw you.”
Jayden smirked. “Love you too, mate.”

After Michael’s tattoo was finished and carefully wrapped, the two of them left the studio and stepped out into the warm February sun. Jayden stretched his arms above his head with a satisfied sigh.
“So, where to now?” he asked, glancing at Michael, who was still admiring his fresh ink.
Michael smirked. “Mate, I just had a needle jabbed into my skin for an hour. I need food before I pass out.”
Jayden chuckled. “Fair enough. Let’s find something decent.”
They strolled down the street until they found a cozy little diner tucked between two larger buildings. It had that old-school American charm—checkered floors, red leather booths, and the smell of fresh coffee lingering in the air. They took a seat by the window, and soon after, a waitress came over to take their order.
Michael, ever the food enthusiast, went all in with a double cheeseburger, fries, and a milkshake, while Jayden stuck to something lighter—a chicken sandwich and an iced tea.
They chatted casually while waiting for their food, Michael occasionally flexing his arm and grinning as he admired his new tattoo.
“You keep looking at it like that, and people will think you’re in love with your own arm,” Jayden teased.
Michael smirked. “Jealous, are we?”
“Not in the slightest.”

Just as their food arrived, Jayden’s phone buzzed in his pocket. He sighed, already dreading whatever news was waiting for him on the other end. When he saw Riley Rodriguez’s name on the screen, his mood soured instantly.
“What now…” he muttered before answering. “Yeah?”
“Jayden! Just the man I wanted to talk to,” Riley’s voice came through, far too chipper for Jayden’s liking. “Listen, I need you and Michael to come by the office. We have a few interviews lined up, and I need you both there.”
Jayden scoffed. “Sleep Token don’t do personal interviews. That’s always been the rule.”
“Yeah, yeah, I know,” Riley said, his tone slightly strained. “But this is different. We need to discuss some PR matters. Just come by, and we’ll figure it out together.”
Jayden pinched the bridge of his nose. “I really don’t see why—”
“Jay,” Riley cut him off, “just get here. Please.”
Jayden exhaled sharply and glanced at Michael, who was already watching him with an eyebrow raised.
“We’re eating,” Jayden said flatly.
“Great. When you’re done, come over.”
And with that, Riley hung up.
Jayden set his phone down with an audible thud. “I fucking hate it when he does that.”
Michael took a sip of his milkshake and shrugged. “Sounds urgent.”
“Sounds like a waste of time.”
Michael grinned. “Shall we take bets on how quickly you’ll start swearing at him when we get there?”
Jayden rolled his eyes but couldn’t help the slight smirk tugging at his lips. “Let’s just finish eating.”

After wrapping up their meal and paying the bill, they grabbed a taxi and made their way to the record label’s office. Jayden leaned against the window, watching the city blur past, while Michael scrolled through his phone, completely unfazed.
The moment they arrived, Jayden’s bad feeling solidified into something much worse. Because standing there in the reception area, alongside Riley, was Scarlett.
Dressed to impress, with her platinized blonde hair perfectly styled and her signature pink nails tapping lightly against her phone, she looked up as they entered and flashed them both a smile.
Jayden clenched his jaw. Michael, standing beside him, muttered under his breath, “Oh, for fuck’s sake.”
Riley spread his arms in a welcoming gesture. “Ah, there you are! Come on in, let’s get started.”
Jayden exhaled sharply and forced himself to move forward. This was going to be a long fucking afternoon.

Jayden leaned back in his chair, arms crossed, his expression tense as he listened to Riley’s pitch. Across the table, Scarlett sat with a professional smile, her hands neatly folded on the polished surface. Michael, to Jay’s right, had the same casual yet unreadable look he always wore when he was holding back a biting remark.
“Look,” Riley said, leaning forward. “I get that Sleep Token doesn’t do traditional interviews. That’s your thing. But the label wants press, and they want it now. The fans are desperate for engagement, and we need to work with that, not against it.”
Jayden exhaled sharply through his nose. “Sleep Token don’t do personal interviews,” he repeated firmly. “That’s not changing.”
Scarlett cleared her throat softly, drawing their attention. “We understand that, Jay,” she said, her voice smooth. “But maybe there’s a middle ground. A way to meet the label halfway without compromising your... philosophy.”
Jayden shot her a glance, his jaw tightening. He hated how easily she slid into this role, as if she hadn’t been making a mess of his head just hours ago.
Michael, ever the quiet observer, finally spoke. “Define ‘middle ground.’”
Riley brightened at the question. “We were thinking of a written interview. No cameras, no live sessions. Just a set of pre-approved questions that you can answer in your own time. That way, you have full control.”

Jayden considered it, his fingers tapping against his arm. It wasn’t ideal, but it was better than being forced into something worse. “Fine,” he muttered. “I’ll do the written interview.”
Riley nodded approvingly, already making a note on his phone. “Perfect. And Michael?”
Michael sighed dramatically, leaning back. “If I agree to anything, it’s strictly about the music. No personal crap, no digging into my past, and my voice gets altered if it’s recorded.”
Riley raised his hands in surrender. “Done.”
Scarlett’s smile grew. “See? That wasn’t so bad.”
Jayden didn’t reply. He just wanted to get the hell out of there.

When Jayden and Michael stepped out of the record label’s building, the Californian afternoon sun hit them like a spotlight. Jay raised a hand to shield his eyes, while Michael casually adjusted his sunglasses. Scarlett followed closely behind, her pink-painted nails tapping against her phone screen as she typed out a message.
“Well, survived that one?” she asked with a smug little smile.
“Barely,” Jayden sighed, running a hand through his hair. Michael just grunted.
Scarlett chuckled, shaking her head. “You guys act like Riley just dragged you to the gallows.” Then she turned to Jayden, grinning. “You’ve always been a bit sensitive.”
Jayden shot her a sideways glance. “And you’ve always been a pain in the ass.”
She laughed. “Oh, come on, admit it—you missed me.”
Jayden snorted. “Not really.”
Scarlett placed a hand over her heart in mock offense. “Ouch, Jay. That hurts.”
Michael rolled his eyes. “Can we go now?”

But Scarlett wasn’t done. “Wait a sec.” She scrolled through her phone, then looked up with a triumphant smirk. “A friend of mine is throwing an exclusive party this weekend. Proper high-class stuff—rooftop views, champagne, the whole deal. You guys should come.”
Jayden exchanged a glance with Michael.
Michael raised an eyebrow. “Sounds a little out of our league, don’t you think?”
Scarlett shrugged. “You’re rockstars. You belong there.”
Jayden hesitated. A little distraction after all the stress… Maybe it wasn’t such a bad idea. “I guess… why not?”
Michael sighed dramatically. “Fine. But there better be decent whiskey.”
Scarlett grinned. “Oh, trust me, there will be.”
What none of them noticed was the camera clicking in the distance, capturing Scarlett’s hand on Jayden’s arm and his rare, fleeting smirk.

**

The party was exactly what Scarlett had promised—an extravagant villa perched above the twinkling lights of Los Angeles, neon reflections dancing across the pool’s surface, music thrumming through the air, and an ocean of well-dressed guests sipping on ridiculously expensive liquor.
Michael and Jayden had actually started enjoying themselves after the first few drinks. Jay felt lighter than he had in days, and Michael had gotten himself wrapped up in a flirtatious conversation with a stunning woman.
Scarlett seized the moment. She placed a hand on Jayden’s shoulder. “Come with me for a sec.”
Jayden, pleasantly buzzed, followed without much thought. She led him to a quieter corner, where the glow from the pool cast soft, shifting patterns on the walls.
“I missed you, Jay,” she murmured.
Jay exhaled a quiet laugh. “Scarlett… there’s no point in this.”
“Why not?” She stepped closer. “We had something good. Yeah, we made mistakes, but maybe it could be different this time.”
Jayden shook his head. “No. Because I already found the person I want to be with.”
Scarlett’s lips curved into a sad smile. “And? Where is she now?”
Jayden hesitated.

Scarlett’s hand drifted to his chest, her touch featherlight. “I know you still feel something for me. That there’s still something here.”
Jayden blinked slowly. The alcohol made his thoughts sluggish. Scarlett’s fingers trailed up to the back of his neck. Her scent was familiar. And then, she kissed him.
For a brief, damning moment, he let her.
And then, like a slap to the face, reality hit him.
This wasn’t Enya.
Jayden jerked back as if burned. “No.” His voice was hoarse. “No, this isn’t happening.”
Scarlett looked hurt. “Jay—”
But he was already turning away, his pulse hammering in his ears. What the fuck had he just done?
He pushed back into the crowd, searching desperately until he found Michael, who was just pulling away from his conversation.
“We need to leave,” Jayden said, voice tight.
Michael took one look at him and knew something was wrong. No questions asked, he followed Jay out.
Back at the hotel, Jayden sat on the edge of his bed, head in his hands.
He didn’t know what to do. Should he tell Enya? Or should he just bury this moment and pretend it never happened?
But deep down, he already knew—Scarlett had managed to get her foot in the door.

Jayden had never felt this torn before. His thumb hovered over Enya’s name in his call list, his other hand rubbing the back of his neck anxiously. He wanted to tell her. He should tell her. But the very thought of it made his chest tighten.
What if she got angry? What if she was disappointed in him?
He took a deep breath and pressed "Call."
The dial tone made his nerves worse. And then—finally—her voice.
"Jay?" She sounded out of breath. In the background, he could hear kids laughing and the sound of building blocks scattering across the floor.
"Hey, Ny-Ny." His voice sounded calmer than he felt.
"Oh God, Jay, I really can't talk right now. I'm in the middle of work, and one of my boys just tore half the playmat apart. Everything okay?"
Jayden pressed his lips together. No, not really. But he couldn't tell her now. Not when she was stressed. Not when she had no time.

"Yeah… I just wanted to hear your voice."
There was a brief pause on the other end. Then he heard the soft smile in her voice. "Oh Jay, that’s so sweet."
He closed his eyes, leaning back against the headboard.
"I miss you, Enya."
"I miss you too. But you’ll be back next week. I can’t wait."
"Me neither."
"I really have to go now before everything turns to chaos. We’ll talk later, okay?"
"Yeah, of course. Take care."
"You too. I love you."
"I love you too."
The call ended, but the uneasy feeling in Jayden’s stomach remained. He hadn’t exactly lied to her—but it felt like a lie.
Frustrated, he rubbed his face and pushed the phone away. He needed to clear his head. So he grabbed a towel and stepped into the shower.
The hot water cascaded down his back, but it didn’t wash away the guilt. He knew Scarlett was trying to manipulate him. But she was part of their team now. There was no avoiding her.
Later, as he lay in bed, staring up at the ceiling with the blanket pulled up to his chest, his mind kept racing.
This could never happen again.
He had to stay professional. No games, no advances.
Just business.
With that final thought, he closed his eyes, hoping sleep would free him from his thoughts.

Chapter Text

The soft morning light filtered through the curtains, casting a warm glow over the room. Enya lay sprawled across her bed, half-buried under the blankets, her body comfortably tangled in the warmth of sleep. Gremlin, curled up at the foot of the bed, let out a small, satisfied sigh in his sleep. Everything was still. Peaceful.
But her mind was anything but peaceful.
The dream she had woken from—dear God. Her cheeks burned as fragments of it lingered in her thoughts, vivid and intoxicating. Hands tracing over bare skin, lips ghosting over hers, the weight of a body pressing her into the mattress—
"Jesus Christ."
With a flustered groan, she ran a hand over her face. Where the hell had that come from? Sure, she missed Jayden, but this… this was getting out of hand.
Her eyes drifted to her phone on the nightstand.
A dangerous idea sparked in her sleep-fogged brain.

Before she could overthink it, she reached for her phone and unlocked it. She pushed back the covers and sat up, her oversized sleep shirt slipping off one shoulder. In the mirror, she caught her reflection—her hair a little messy, her eyes still heavy with sleep, but there was something undeniably mischievous in her expression.
She smirked.
With practiced ease, she positioned herself just right—just enough to tease, to make him think about her all day, but not too much.
Snap.
She examined the photo. Flirty. Suggestive. Perfect.
Tapping out a quick message, she attached the image and hit send before she could second-guess herself.
“Just wanted to make sure you’re not forgetting me over there…"
Now all she had to do was wait.
It took less than two minutes for her phone to buzz.
J: “Forget you? Ny-Ny, if you knew what I dreamed about last night…”
Oh, this was going to be fun.
E: “Oh? Do tell…“
J: “Are you sure? I wouldn’t want you to have to take a cold shower…”
E: “Too late.”
She laughed to herself as she put her phone down, stretching her arms above her head. Yep, definitely needed that cold shower.

A little while later, freshly showered and wrapped up in a cozy scarf, Enya stepped out into the crisp afternoon air with Gremlin trotting excitedly by her side.
London in February had a way of feeling both gloomy and refreshing at the same time. The sky was a pale, washed-out blue, the air cool but not biting. The faint scent of damp earth and brewing coffee drifted through the streets as she made her way towards the park.
Gremlin, full of boundless energy, darted forward, his tiny paws kicking up little specks of dirt as he chased after a fallen leaf.
"You’re such a menace," Enya muttered affectionately, shaking her head as she tightened her grip on his leash.
As they reached her favorite coffee shop, she stopped to order her usual—black coffee, no sugar. The warmth of the cup was comforting in her hands as she took a seat on a bench near the fountain, watching as people strolled past, lost in their own little worlds.
That was when she noticed her.

An elderly woman sat on the bench next to her, a soft smile tugging at her lips as she watched her Labrador—an old, golden-furred dog with wise, knowing eyes—sniff curiously at Gremlin.
"Well, aren’t you just full of energy?" the woman chuckled, her voice rich with warmth.
Enya smiled. "Oh, he’s always like this. Your dog is gorgeous, by the way."
The woman nodded, giving the Labrador a fond pat. "Bailey. He’s twelve. Slowing down a little, but still young at heart."
She turned to Enya then, her gaze lingering just a bit longer than expected. There was something knowing in her eyes, something that sent a small shiver down Enya’s spine.
"You look like you have something on your mind, dear," she said gently.
Enya blinked in surprise. "Oh—I, uh… I mean, I had a good morning, actually."
The woman’s lips curled into a soft, knowing smile. "Good mornings don’t usually leave people looking so lost in thought."
Enya hesitated, her fingers tightening around her coffee cup.
The woman tilted her head, watching her carefully before speaking again.

"Life has a funny way of giving us exactly what we need at the moment we need it most," she said. "Love. Clarity. A challenge. The trick is recognizing which one it is before it slips through our fingers."
There was something unsettlingly right about her words—like she was pulling them straight from Enya’s own subconscious.
Enya opened her mouth to respond, but before she could, Gremlin lunged excitedly toward a passing pigeon, jerking her forward slightly.
The woman chuckled. "Looks like that’s your cue to keep moving."
Enya let out a breathy laugh, shaking her head. "Yeah… I guess it is."
The woman gave her one last, meaningful look. "Think about what I said, love."
Enya nodded, though the words still swirled in her mind as she walked away.
She wasn’t sure why, but she had the strange feeling that those words were going to matter a lot sooner than she thought.

**

By the time Enya finally got home that afternoon, her arms were weighed down with grocery bags, and her fingers were beginning to ache from gripping the plastic handles for too long. Gremlin, in his usual overly enthusiastic way, greeted her at the door with a flurry of excited barks, weaving between her legs in a way that nearly sent her tumbling backward.
“Jesus, Gremlin!” she gasped, trying to regain her balance as she awkwardly fumbled with the bags.
Before she could completely lose the battle against gravity, a steady hand grabbed her elbow.
“Careful there, love.”
She looked up to see Liam, who had appeared in the doorway just in time to keep her from crashing to the ground. Without hesitation, he took the grocery bags from her arms, shaking his head with an amused smirk.
"You always insist on carrying everything at once, don’t you?"
Enya huffed, still slightly flustered—not just from nearly falling, but from the unexpected closeness. She had grown so used to the distance between them over the past weeks that even something as simple as this felt strangely intimate.
“Old habits die hard,” she muttered, tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear. "Thanks, though."
Liam gave her a short nod before carrying the bags into the kitchen. Gremlin, meanwhile, pranced around their feet, completely unaware of the chaos he had nearly caused.
As Liam began unpacking the groceries, he glanced over his shoulder. "What’s on the menu tonight?"
Enya leaned against the counter, rubbing her arms for warmth. "I was thinking of making a nice, hearty stew. Something to warm us up in this freezing weather."
Liam hummed in approval as he pulled out the vegetables. “Sounds good. Need a hand?”
Surprised but pleased, Enya smiled. "Yeah, actually. You can help me peel and chop the veggies."
He nodded, grabbing a knife without hesitation.

For the first time in what felt like forever, they fell into a natural rhythm. Enya rinsed the vegetables, passing them to Liam, who skillfully peeled and chopped while she prepped the broth. The kitchen filled with the soothing sounds of bubbling liquid, rhythmic chopping, and the occasional clink of utensils against the cutting board.
Then, as if it was the most natural thing in the world, Enya made an absolutely stupid, borderline inappropriate joke.
And Liam laughed.
Not the forced, polite chuckle she had gotten used to over the past weeks. A real, genuine laugh—the kind that made his eyes crinkle at the corners and his shoulders shake slightly.
God, she had missed this.
She let out a content sigh, stirring the pot absentmindedly. "I really missed this, you know?"
Liam glanced at her, his hands still moving over the vegetables. "Missed what?"
"This. Us. Just… being stupid together, making dumb jokes, not walking on eggshells around each other."

Liam’s movements slowed slightly, but he didn’t stop chopping. Instead, he let out a small breath, setting the knife down for a moment.
"Yeah…" His voice was quieter now, more thoughtful. "I’m sorry I’ve been so distant. I just… needed space to get my head straight. It wasn’t about you, Enya. It never was."
She gave him a small smile, appreciating the honesty. "I know. I just wish I could’ve helped more."
"You are helping," Liam said, meeting her gaze. "Just by being here."
For a second, silence stretched between them—comfortable, not awkward.
Then, as if sensing the moment was getting too serious, Liam smirked.
"Besides, I had to take a step back before you tried to start another group therapy session in the living room."
Enya groaned. "One time, Liam! One time!"
Liam chuckled, shaking his head. "Never letting you live that down, love."
She rolled her eyes, throwing a piece of chopped carrot at him. He caught it mid-air and popped it into his mouth, grinning smugly.
It was so stupid.
It was so them.
And for the first time in way too long, Enya felt like maybe—just maybe—things would be okay again.

After dinner, Enya busied herself cleaning up the kitchen, loading the dishwasher, and wiping down the counters. Meanwhile, Liam had already made himself comfortable on the couch in the living room, flipping through the channels until he landed on some sports coverage.
She could hear him grumbling from where she stood, cursing under his breath about some match results that clearly didn’t sit well with him. A small smile tugged at her lips.
It felt normal. Familiar. Right.
That comforting warmth in her chest, however, soon twisted into something else entirely—a slow, tingling heat that coiled low in her belly. Goddamn it, she missed Jayden. She missed Liam.
It had been over a month since the last time they had sex.
The thought alone sent a shiver down her spine, her thighs pressing together instinctively as she exhaled shakily. She needed him. Now. And if not sex, then at least something—any kind of physical closeness to take the edge off.
Maybe he was ready for that again. There was only one way to find out.
She dried her hands, took a steadying breath, and walked into the living room with quiet determination.

Liam barely reacted when she entered—too engrossed in whatever game was playing on the screen. Smirking to herself, Enya didn’t take the conventional route to get to him. Instead, she climbed over the back of the couch, sliding down effortlessly until she landed right behind him.
Her hands found his shoulders, fingers kneading gently at the tension she knew was always there.
Liam let out a low hum of approval but didn’t turn away from the screen.
“What’s this, then?” he mused, his tone dripping with amusement. When he finally tilted his head back to glance at her, the playful glint in his eyes sent a fresh wave of heat through her. He knew. Of course, he knew.
But he wasn’t going to make this easy.
Enya bit her lip, her voice softer now. “Well… it’s been a while since you and I… you know.”
Liam raised a brow, feigning disinterest. “Yeah? And?”
She nearly huffed at his teasing tone but quickly caught on to his game. If he wanted to make her work for it, fine. She could play that, too.

Leaning in, she brushed her lips along the shell of his ear, then down the side of his neck, slow and deliberate, barely there. Her fingers trailed lower, ghosting over his collarbones, his chest.
“I need you, Liam,” she whispered, her voice laced with something dark and honeyed.
The reaction was instantaneous.
Before she could process it, his hands gripped her thighs, and in one swift motion, he flipped her, making her gasp as she suddenly found herself straddling his lap.
His hands didn’t leave her, gripping her securely in place as he stared up at her, gaze dark and unreadable. For a moment, she thought she had won—that he’d give in and finally take what they both wanted.
But then, his jaw tightened.
“I’m not going to fuck you, Enya,” he said, voice steady, firm.
The words hit like a slap of cold water, and Enya’s heart dropped. Her expression must’ve given her away because his grip on her thighs softened slightly.
Before she could say anything, he exhaled and continued, “If that’s what you were hoping for, I can’t give you that. Not yet.”

The yet made something flicker in her chest—hope, or maybe just frustration.
“But you’re doing so much better,” she said, trying to keep the disappointment from seeping into her tone. “You barely have nightmares anymore.”
Liam’s expression remained unreadable. “That doesn’t mean I’m healed, love. You, of all people, know that healing isn’t linear. There are good days, and there are bad days.”
“Of course, I know that,” she murmured, sighing in defeat.
She started to move, prepared to climb off his lap and put some much-needed distance between them, but before she could, Liam’s hands tightened around her thighs, holding her exactly where she was.
Confused, she looked down at him, only to see the hint of a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.
“You’re lucky today’s one of the good days,” he murmured, his voice lower now, rougher.
Enya barely had time to process that before he pulled her closer, pressing her against him in a way that made her ache.
“I won’t fuck you,” he repeated. “But… how do you feel about a little dry humping?”

For a moment, Enya could only stare at him. Then, despite herself, she let out a short, breathy laugh. “Are you serious? Like we’re teenagers?”
Any amusement she felt quickly faded when Liam shifted beneath her, grinding up just enough for friction to spark through her like a live wire.
She gasped, hands flying to his shoulders.
Liam leaned in, lips grazing the shell of her ear as he whispered, “You’d be surprised how fucking sexy it can be.”
And just like that, the game had changed.
Enya barely had time to catch her breath before Liam rolled his hips again, slow and deliberate. The friction sent a shockwave of pleasure through her, stealing the air from her lungs.
“Still think this isn’t sexy?” he murmured, his voice a deep rasp against her throat.
She whimpered. Actually whimpered.
Liam chuckled darkly, the sound dripping with amusement and something dangerous. “That’s what I thought.”
He shifted beneath her, adjusting his grip on her hips before pulling her down against him, forcing more pressure, more contact, making her moan outright.
Fuck.

She could feel him. The hard ridge of his arousal pressed perfectly against her core, and even through the layers of fabric, it was enough to send a pulse of desperate heat through her body.
“Liam—”
“Shhh,” he hushed her, one hand sliding up her back, fingers tangling in her hair. He yanked, just enough to tilt her head back, baring her throat to him. “You wanted this, didn’t you?”
Enya gasped, but it melted into a whine when he bit down on the sensitive spot just below her ear.
“Wanted me to touch you…” kissed her jaw.
“Make you feel good…” sucked a mark onto her throat.
“Fucking ruin you without even taking our clothes off.”
A choked moan was all she could manage.
Liam’s breathing was heavier now, his restraint hanging by a thread. He gripped her waist, guiding her movements as she rocked against him, their bodies moving in sync, perfectly in tune.
The room was filled with the sound of their panting breaths, the rustling of fabric, and the delicious friction of denim against cotton—intoxicating, desperate, filthy.
And then, without warning, Liam flipped them.

A startled gasp escaped Enya’s lips as she suddenly found herself pinned beneath him, his body pressed flush against hers, his weight keeping her in place.
His eyes were dark, wild with something raw and hungry.
“You’re a fucking succubus, you know that?” he growled against her lips.
Enya smirked breathlessly. “And yet, you’re the one grinding against me like you need this to survive.”
Liam snapped.
His mouth crashed against hers, rough and unyielding, his tongue claiming hers with a desperate hunger that left her dizzy. He devoured her, kissed her like she was the only thing keeping him sane, like he needed her closer, deeper, more.
His hands roamed—one gripping her thigh, hitching her leg around his waist, the other bracing against the couch to keep from completely crushing her.
And fuck, the new angle—the pressure.

The rhythm between them grew frantic, hips rolling, grinding, chasing that edge. The heat between her legs was unbearable, an ache so intense it was almost painful.
“Liam—” she gasped, her fingers clawing at his back, nails dragging down the fabric of his shirt.
“I know,” he breathed, his forehead pressing against hers. “I fucking know.”
The muscles in his arms tensed, his breathing ragged, his entire body trembling as he drove against her, chasing that inevitable breaking point.
And then—
White-hot pleasure exploded through her, a choked cry ripping from her throat as waves of ecstasy crashed over her, leaving her breathless, wrecked.
Liam followed seconds later, a deep, guttural groan vibrating against her skin as he shuddered, his entire body going rigid before he collapsed against her, his breath coming in sharp, uneven pants.
For a moment, neither of them moved. The only sound was the distant murmur of the television, the occasional pop of fabric shifting as their bodies pressed together, still trembling from the aftershocks.
Then, Liam exhaled a shaky breath, his lips brushing against her collarbone as he chuckled, low and hoarse.
“I really wasn’t supposed to do that,” he murmured, amusement laced with exhaustion.
Enya smirked, still catching her breath. “And yet, here we are.”
He huffed a laugh, then kissed her shoulder. “Fucking succubus.”
She grinned, dragging her nails lazily up his spine. “Admit it, you loved it.”

Liam sighed, pulling back just enough to meet her gaze. His expression softened, the heat replaced with something deeper—something real.
“Yeah,” he murmured, brushing a stray lock of hair from her face. “I fucking loved it.”
Liam leaned his head back against the couch, breathing deeply, willing his heartbeat to slow. But it wasn’t working. Not when Enya was still curled up next to him, her scent thick in the air—vanilla and something uniquely her—and the damp spot on his jeans a glaring reminder of what they had just done.
Fuck.
He glanced down at himself, then back at her with a wry smirk. “Look what you did.”
Enya followed his gaze, her lips curling into a wicked grin. “I bet your jeans looked like that a lot when you were a teenager.” She winked, and Liam let out a short laugh, shaking his head.
“You’re a menace.”
“I know.” She said it so sweetly, so shamelessly, that he couldn’t help but chuckle.
But then the laughter faded.

As the high ebbed away, the rational part of his mind took over, dragging guilt along with it.
Had he gone too far?
He had promised himself that he wouldn’t cross certain lines. That he’d take things slow, for his sake, for her sake. But here he was, having just dry-fucked her into oblivion, and all he could think about was how good it had felt, how close they had been—how much closer he wanted to be.
His throat felt tight. “Did I go too far?” he asked, his voice quieter than before.
The softness in his tone made Enya pause. She shifted, propping herself up on one elbow to look at him properly. “No,” she said, frowning slightly. “Why would you think that?”
Liam didn’t look at her. His gaze was fixed on the ceiling, his hands clenching against his thighs. “I… I lost control. More than I meant to. God, I wanted to fuck you so badly.”
A shiver ran through Enya at his words, but she kept her voice steady. “That’s not a bad thing, Liam.”
She rested her head against his shoulder, her fingers tracing soothing patterns over his forearm. “You didn’t do anything I didn’t want. If anything, I should be the one apologizing. I knew you needed space, and I still threw myself at you. I was just so—” She huffed out a self-deprecating laugh. “So fucking needy.”

Liam finally turned his head to look at her. His expression softened, and before he could stop himself, he took her hand in his, lifted it to his lips, and pressed a gentle kiss to her knuckles.
“It felt good, didn’t it?” he murmured.
Enya nodded. “Yeah.”
“Then maybe we should stop punishing ourselves for wanting something that makes us feel alive.”
She pulled back slightly, meeting his gaze. “That’s surprisingly wise, Liam.”
His brow furrowed. “Right? That doesn’t sound like me at all.”
Enya giggled, and just like that, the weight on his chest lightened. They stayed like that for a while—wrapped in each other’s warmth, murmuring lazy teases, reveling in the quiet afterglow.
Eventually, exhaustion crept in, and they parted ways for the night.

But Liam couldn’t sleep.
He stared at the ceiling, restless, his body still humming from their earlier encounter.
It wasn’t just the memory of her voice, breathy and wrecked, or the way she had clung to him, nails digging into his back as she came undone against him.
It was the want—gnawing at his insides, curling hot and tight in his gut, making his already hard cock ache painfully against his boxers.
He groaned in frustration, raking a hand through his hair.
Fucking hell.
He wanted her. Needed her. Needed to feel her warmth, to taste her skin, to sink into her until there was nothing left but sensation.
Before he could think better of it, he threw the covers off and padded silently down the hallway.
His hand was on her doorknob before he even realized what he was doing.

This is a bad idea.

But he turned the handle anyway.

Chapter Text

The door clicked shut behind him.
Liam stood there, bare feet sinking into the carpet, his breath coming slow and deep as his eyes adjusted to the dim light in her room.
Enya was curled up on her side, the blanket barely covering her body. Loose strands of hair framed her face, her lips slightly parted in sleep.
She’s fucking perfect.
His cock throbbed at the sight of her, the hunger that had been simmering in his veins all night now boiling over. He had tried—fuck, he had tried—to be good. To keep his distance. To stay in control.
But she had been teasing him, pushing him, breaking down every wall he had built.
And now, he was done holding back.
Slowly, carefully, he lifted the blanket, exposing the smooth curve of her back, the dip of her waist, the swell of her ass barely covered by the thin fabric of her sleep shorts.
Fucking hell.
Liam exhaled sharply through his nose. His self-restraint was hanging by a fucking thread.
Then she shifted, stretching ever so slightly, and let out the softest little sigh in her sleep.
That was it. That was all it took.
Liam was on her in an instant.

Enya gasped as she was yanked from sleep, her body pressed into the mattress, a solid wall of muscle covering her from behind. Strong hands gripped her hips, pulling her ass flush against his hard cock.
“Liam—”
“Shh.” His voice was a low, guttural growl against her ear. His fingers slid under the hem of her shorts, kneading the soft flesh of her ass before giving it a sharp slap.
Enya let out a choked moan, her body arching into him.
“You have no fucking idea,” he growled, “what you're doing to me.”
She shivered. “Liam, please—”
“Oh, now you're begging?” He bit her shoulder gently, his hands demanding on her skin. “But earlier, you were provoking me so damn much. Got me so horny, Ny-Ny.”
Another smack on her ass, harder this time. Enya gasped, her fingernails digging into the sheets.
“I—I just wanted—”
“Just wanted what? To drive me crazy?” His fingers pushed her shorts down, letting them fall carelessly to the floor. “You did it, baby.”

His hand slid between her thighs, finding her hot and wet and so fucking ready for him. A dark laugh vibrated in his chest. “Goddamn it, Enya… you're already soaked.”
She pressed herself against him, a pleading whimper on her lips.
“Liam, please—”
“Touch yourself,” he commanded roughly.
Her hand obeyed immediately, moving between her thighs, her fingers finding her swollen clit.
Liam watched her, his lust only fueled by the sight. “Good girl.”
Then he knelt behind her, his hands gripping her hips, his hardness pressing demandingly against her. Without warning, his hot, hard cock rubbed against her wet slit, making her quiver with need.
And then—without further games, without further delay—he thrust. Deep, hard, until he was all the way inside her.
Enya screamed, her back arching. „Fuck, fuck, fuck—“
Liam gripped a hand in her hair, pulling her head back as he thrust into her in a hard rhythm. No more tenderness. No more holding back. Just raw, untamed desire.

His other hand moved forward, encircling her throat in a tight grip. “I really tried to stay away from you,” he growled against her ear. “Now I'm going to take what's mine.”
He felt her trembling beneath him, heard the uncontrolled, desperate sounds she made, every moan, every whimper, every whispered 'Liam, please, more—'
And he gave her more.

Harder. Deeper. Faster.

Until her walls clenched around him, her whole body shook, and she came with a loud, throaty scream.
The sight, the feeling—it was too much.
With one last deep groan, Liam buried himself inside her and exploded, pumping his pleasure deep into her as his body pressed her against him in a hard grip. When the last reverberations of their orgasms had died down, he collapsed on top of her, exhausted, his lips seeking her sweat-covered skin.
For a moment there was only heavy breathing, trembling fingers stroking heated skin.
Then Enya laughed softly, breathlessly. “Holy fuck.”
Liam grinned against her neck. “You made me do it.”
She turned her head slightly and looked over her shoulder at him. “I think I should provoke you more often.”
Liam playfully bit her shoulder. Not too hard to make her bleed, but hard enough to make her gasp. “You'll regret that decision, baby.”

He could feel her heart pounding wildly against his chest, her body still quivering in the aftermath of what he had just done to her.
Fuck, that had been good.
But he wasn’t done.
Not even close.
With a rough exhale, he pushed himself up, running his fingers lazily down her spine. Small, satisfied shivers ran across her skin, and a sleepy but utterly content smile tugged at her lips.
"Liam..." she murmured, her voice soft, spent, as he pulled out of her, leaving a trail of their combined release dripping down her inner thighs.
His gaze darkened.
His cum. Her arousal.
Mixed.
A mark of his claim.
And he wasn’t about to let it go to waste.
Enya jolted slightly when he gripped her hips and flipped her onto her back with effortless strength. Her dazed eyes found his, searching—until she caught the predatory glint in his.
Her breath hitched.
"Liam…?"
He didn’t answer with words.

Instead, he lowered himself, trailing his mouth down her body—over her stomach, her hips—while his hands gently but firmly spread her thighs apart.
His gaze devoured the mess he had left behind. Her swollen, pulsing heat, glistening with her own wetness and his thick seed.
So fucking perfect.
"Liam, what—"
"Shhh," he hushed her, running his thumb over her slick, sensitive folds. "I want to taste what’s mine."
And then he leaned in—dragging his tongue in a long, slow stroke over her dripping slit.
Enya gasped, her back arching, fingers clutching desperately at the sheets.
"Oh my God—"
Liam hummed against her, his mouth pressing deeper, more demanding. He licked her with slow, deliberate intent, savoring every last drop, drinking in the sinful mixture of their pleasure.
"You taste so fucking good, Enya," he murmured between hungry strokes of his tongue. "I want all of you."

His tongue dipped lower, teasing, coaxing, worshipping. He made her tremble, made her body tighten, her moans growing more desperate by the second.
"Liam, I... I can't—"
"Oh, yes, you can."
He slid two fingers inside her—deep—and sucked hard on her swollen clit.
And then she shattered.
Enya screamed his name, her entire body arching off the bed, shaking, writhing as another mind-numbing orgasm crashed over her.
Liam held her firmly, making her feel every second of it—until he had wrung every last tremor from her and licked her clean.
Only when she finally collapsed, utterly spent, did he pull away. He licked his lips and his fingers, his eyes gleaming with dark satisfaction.
"I hope you weren’t planning on getting out of bed tomorrow," he murmured against her trembling skin. "Because I’m not done with you yet."
Enya let out a weak, breathless laugh, her eyes still hazy with bliss. "Holy fuck, Liam…"
He grinned—and pulled her close, his body already aching for her again.
Because she had no idea what was still coming.

**

When Liam finally collapsed beside Enya, his chest was rising and falling heavily as he tried to catch his breath. Her body was still trembling in the aftermath, her own breathing uneven and ragged. For a moment, the only sound in the room was the synchronized rhythm of their breaths—deep, rough, and filled with lingering pleasure.
Then Liam turned his head to look at her. Her face was flushed, lips slightly parted, and she had that blissfully exhausted expression that made something primal stir in his chest. He couldn’t help but smile. Reaching out, he brushed a damp strand of hair from her face. “You look like I completely ruined you,” he murmured, a note of pride in his voice.
Enya slowly opened her eyes and gave him a sleepy grin. “You did completely ruin me,” she admitted, her fingers lazily tracing along his chest. “But in the best way possible.”

Liam chuckled softly, pulling her closer before pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead. His arms tightened around her as Enya snuggled into him, soaking in his warmth.
“God, I missed you,” she whispered after a moment, her voice barely more than a breath.
“I know,” he murmured back, holding her even tighter.
For a while, they just lay there in the quiet of the night, their bodies entwined, heartbeats gradually slowing to a steady rhythm. Liam ran his fingertips in slow, soothing circles along Enya’s back, until her breathing grew deeper, and she finally drifted off to sleep in his arms.
But for him, the night was far from over.
Because as he watched her sleep so peacefully, that raw, unrelenting hunger for her stirred in him once more. A dark, primal need that refused to be ignored.
And so, before the night was over, he made sure to have her screaming his name a few more times.

Chapter Text

When Enya woke up the next morning, she didn’t even have to open her eyes to feel Liam’s intense gaze on her.
“Stop staring at me,” she murmured sleepily, a grin tugging at her lips. “Don’t you have anything better to do?”
Liam chuckled softly. “Well, I would have loved to wake you up with sex,” he admitted, his voice low as he leaned over her and pressed a soft kiss to her neck. “But since I didn’t know if I had your consent for that, someone could’ve held it against me. So, I figured I’d better not.”
Enya giggled. “Liam, your beard tickles! And why are you even awake already?” She playfully tried to push him away, but Liam growled teasingly and, in less than a second, flipped them so he was suddenly hovering over her.
“I couldn’t sleep,” he murmured, his fingers tracing lazy patterns over her bare skin, his voice husky. “…Not when you were lying next to me like this.”
Enya smirked and arched into his touch. “Like what?” she teased.
Liam pulled her closer, his lips brushing against her ear. “Naked, warm, irresistible.”
A quiet moan escaped her as his lips trailed along her neck. “You’re insatiable…”

His hand slid effortlessly between her legs, finding her already slick. “Hmm, looks like I’m not the only one,” he mused while stroking her slowly. But before he could take it any further, she caught his wrist and gently pulled his hand back up to the covers.
She smiled at him innocently. “Give me a little break, okay?”
Liam pouted dramatically. “So mean,” he muttered, then suddenly jumped up, standing before her in all his naked glory. “Alright, then I guess I’ll make us a fantastic breakfast.”
As soon as he opened the bedroom door, it was like a switch had been flipped. Gremlin came bursting inside, sprinting toward the bed and leaping onto it with uncontainable joy.
Enya squealed in delight as the dog covered her face in slobbery kisses. “Gremmy, you little lick monster!”
Liam watched them for a moment, a small smile tugging at his lips, before turning toward the kitchen.

Enya stayed in bed for a little while longer, snuggling up with Gremlin as he happily wagged his tail and licked her cheek. But then, from the kitchen, she heard it—Liam singing. Loudly. Proudly. And absolutely off-key.
A smile tugged at her lips.
With a sigh, she finally pushed the covers aside, gathered some fresh clothes, and padded into the bathroom to take a shower. The hot water was a blessing for her thoroughly used body, and she could have stood under the soothing stream forever, just letting it wash over her.
But unfortunately, work wasn’t going to wait for her. So, with a reluctant sigh, she stepped out of the shower and started getting ready.
The moment she opened the bathroom door, she was hit by the mouthwatering aroma of fresh coffee, crispy bacon, and warm pancakes. Her stomach rumbled in anticipation, and she followed the delicious scent into the kitchen.

There, she found Liam—now wearing at least a pair of boxers—busy flipping pancakes with an almost artistic flair.
Sensing her presence, Liam glanced over his shoulder. "Ah, back among the living?" he asked with a grin.
"So it seems," she mused. Stepping behind him, she playfully tugged at the waistband of his shorts. "And where did these suddenly come from?" she asked teasingly.
Liam spun around dramatically, twirling the spatula like a magician’s wand. "I’m a wizard, Ny-Ny. Didn’t you know?"
She shook her head, amused, and reached for a finished pancake, tearing off a piece and popping it into her mouth.
Liam gasped in mock offense, placing his hands on his hips. "Now, hold on a second, Ny-Ny! I do believe I gave you a rather impressive demonstration last night of how I can thoroughly clean out your pussy, stuffed full with my cum, in record time."
Enya barely had time to react before she choked slightly on her food, a warm, tingling sensation spreading through her body. Oh yeah… that had definitely been impressive.

Cheeks flushed, she quickly took a seat at the table, grabbing a cup of coffee and taking a deep sip as if that would somehow cool her down.
Liam joined her, drenching his pancakes in a generous amount of maple syrup. Just before he took his first bite, he casually remarked, "Last night was really nice. It… kinda felt like old times."
Enya nodded. Yeah, it really had been amazing. Almost like that time in the private spa’s whirlpool.
The memory sent another wave of warmth rushing to her cheeks, which only made Liam smirk.
"Alright, Ny-Ny, what filthy little memory just popped into that pretty head of yours?" he asked, amused.
She hesitated for a moment before answering, "The whirlpool. In the private spa. Last year."
Liam let out a pleased, almost purring sound. "Ah, now that was one hell of a sinful experience. So… when are we doing that again?"

Enya answered that they could plan for it once Jay was back from his business trip.
Then, she stood up and sighed. "I have to get to work."
She grabbed her jacket, slung her bag over her shoulder, and quickly checked to make sure she had everything. Just as she was about to leave, Liam slipped his arms around her waist from behind, pulling her into a warm embrace. He nuzzled into her neck, pressing a soft kiss against her cheek.
"Want me to cook something special for you when you get home?" he asked, resting his chin on her shoulder.
Enya thought for a moment. "Hmm, I don’t know. As long as it’s warm and delicious, I’ll be happy."
Liam smiled. "I can manage that."
With that, he finally let her go—only to give her a playful smack on the butt.
"You’re gonna be late for work," he teased, opening the door for her.
She laughed as she stepped outside, leaving him behind with a grin.

His good mood disappeared the moment he closed the door behind Enya. He absentmindedly walked to the couch and sat down. Gremlin was hot on his heels as always and hopped onto the couch next to him and made himself comfortable.
Sighing, Liam lay on the couch, his arm behind his head, staring at the ceiling.
He had tried to free himself of his guilt - really. Enya deserved him to let go. She deserved him to stop punishing himself for something that was out of his control. The night with her had been... beautiful. So familiar, so full of warmth that it almost seemed like everything was back to normal. Maybe that was his sign. Maybe it was time to finally let go of the past.
His body felt heavy, exhausted from the sleepless night. While Enya had fallen asleep peacefully next to him after sex, he hadn't closed his eyes for a moment. He had lain there, listening to her calm breathing, feeling the gentle warmth of her skin and telling himself that everything was okay. That he could protect her.

But could he really?
He turned onto his side and closed his eyes. Just a few minutes. Maybe half an hour.
And then the darkness pulled him down.
The nightmare hit him like a freight train.

He stood in a dark room. The air was thick and suffocating, filled with the stench of sweat and old blood. The walls were bare, cracked concrete, damp and cold. A single flickering light buzzed overhead, casting distorted shadows on the floor.
Then he saw him.
Ryan leaned casually against a wall, twirling a knife between his fingers. His grin was wide, full of mockery, his eyes gleaming with sadistic delight.
"Well, finally," he said, his voice slithering into Liam’s skull like a venomous whisper. "I was starting to think you’d never show up."
Liam tried to move, but his body felt heavy, unresponsive. His legs wouldn't obey him, his chest felt as if chains were wrapped around it, tightening with every breath.
Then he heard her.
“Liam…”
The voice was small, pleading.
“Liam, please…”
His stomach twisted violently.
Enya.
He turned around—and his blood turned to ice.
She was kneeling on the floor, her arms bound behind her back. Her face was pale, her eyes filled with terror, a piece of cloth shoved into her mouth to muffle her cries. She trembled, her skin bruised and marred with dark patches.
“What’s wrong?” Ryan asked, amused, as he slowly stepped toward Liam. "Not the kind of reunion you were hoping for?"
Liam struggled against the invisible weight holding him down, desperate to move, desperate to do something.
Ryan chuckled. “You know how this goes.”
Liam watched in horror as Ryan stepped behind Enya. His fingers traced lightly over her shoulder before he slowly pressed the knife against her throat.
“No! Stop!” Liam’s voice came out raw, frantic, as if it had been ripped from the depths of his soul.
Ryan leaned closer to Enya’s ear, as if whispering a secret. “You remember, don’t you?” he murmured. “How it felt when I took your little toy away from you?”
Liam’s heart pounded, his lungs burned. Every muscle in his body was taut with desperate helplessness.
Ryan dragged the knife slowly across Enya’s skin—a thin line of red appeared, a single drop trickling down her neck.
“STOP!”
But Ryan only smirked.
"You couldn't save her back then, Liam," he whispered. "And you can't save her now."
Then he grabbed a fistful of her hair, yanked her head back—and the blade flashed.
Liam wanted to scream.
He wanted to fight.
But he couldn't.
He could only watch.
As the knife plunged into her throat.
The sound was wet, sickening—Enya’s eyes widened in agony, in shock, as she gasped for air, blood pouring down her chest.
Liam could do nothing.
He couldn't move.
He could only watch as the life drained from her.
Then Ryan struck again.
And again.
And again.
The knife carved through her flesh, each thrust more brutal than the last, as Ryan laughed—laughed like it was the most exhilarating thing he’d ever done.
Liam wanted to close his eyes, wanted to force himself awake—but he couldn’t.
He had to see it.
Every single stab.
Every single drop of blood.
Until her body went limp.
Until the floor beneath her was soaked in red.
Until Ryan pulled the knife from her one last time and straightened, his hands and face drenched in crimson.
Then he looked at Liam.
"You’re still just as weak," he said, voice eerily calm.
Then he lifted the knife—and stepped toward him.

Liam jolted awake.
His heart was pounding, his body drenched in sweat. He gasped for air, his chest constricting as if something heavy was crushing him.
His hands trembled as he ran them over his face.
Just a dream.
But it had felt so real.
He glanced at the clock. 2:42 PM.
He had actually slept for hours. But it hadn’t been restful.
With a groan, he forced himself to stand. His body felt sluggish, his mind clouded. He needed to go. Dr. Carter was waiting.

**

Dr. Carter leaned back in his chair, crossing one leg over the other as he studied Liam.
"So, how have you been since our last session?" he asked casually.
Liam let out a breath, a grin tugging at the corner of his lips. "Honestly? Until this morning, I felt fantastic."
Dr. Carter raised an eyebrow at that. "Fantastic? That’s a big leap from where we left off last time."
Liam shrugged. "I know, right? But I mean it. I feel like I had... a breakthrough."
Carter leaned forward slightly. "Tell me more."
Liam smirked, rubbing his palms together. "I spent half the night having sex with Enya." He chuckled at Carter’s immediate reaction—slightly widened eyes, a barely noticeable shift in posture. "It was... freeing. Like everything finally made sense again. Like I was back to who I used to be."
Carter remained quiet, watching him closely.
Liam sighed, leaning back in his seat. "I don’t know. Maybe that was the solution all along. Maybe I just needed to stop overthinking and let myself enjoy it."
Before he could convince himself of that idea, Carter spoke.
"And after this morning?"
Liam frowned. "What?"
"You said you felt fantastic—until this morning. What happened after?"

Liam opened his mouth, then hesitated. His fingers tapped restlessly against his knee. The memory of the dream crept into his mind, dulling the excitement that had been there just moments ago.
"I had another nightmare," he admitted quietly. "One I haven’t had in a while. It was… intense. I woke up drenched in sweat, heart racing. Felt like my chest was being crushed."
Carter nodded, waiting a moment before tilting his head slightly.
"Let me get this straight," he began calmly. "For weeks, you've told me that sex with Enya is a massive trigger for you. That it terrifies you, even paralyzes you. And now you're telling me that this exact trigger was suddenly the best thing that could have happened to you?"
Liam raised his hands in defense. "It was different. It was... good. Enya made me feel safe. Loved."
Dr. Carter nodded, letting a brief silence hang between them. "And yet, you're here today because you still feel like shit. You just told me that you had a terrible nightmare again."
Liam opened his mouth, then closed it again. His jaw tightened.

"Liam," Dr. Carter continued gently, "you're sabotaging yourself. You know it wasn’t actually good for you, but you’re convincing yourself it was—because deep down, you're waiting for everything to fall apart."
"That's not true," Liam muttered, but his gaze wavered.
"Isn't it?" Dr. Carter tilted his head slightly. "You’ve told me yourself—you believe that anyone who matters to you will eventually leave. That happiness isn’t meant to last. So tell me, if you were truly happy, if you had everything you wanted—what would that do to you?"
Liam scoffed. "It’d be a lie. Nothing lasts forever."
Dr. Carter raised an eyebrow. "Exactly. And if you put yourself in situations that could destroy you, you don’t have to worry about life doing it for you."
Liam flinched. He swallowed hard, looking away. His heart pounded in his chest.
"You expect things to break, Liam. Maybe you even feel like you deserve it. And if you wait long enough, you’ll find a way to make it happen."
Liam closed his eyes. The words sank deep into him, and the worst part was—somewhere inside, he knew Dr. Carter was right.

Dr. Carter tapped his pen against the notepad in his lap, studying Liam with an unreadable expression.
"So," he said after a moment, "you mentioned that you’ve been feeling better overall. Fewer nightmares. That’s good."
Liam nodded, leaning back into the couch. "Yeah. I mean, I still have them sometimes, but nowhere near as often as before. So, I guess that’s progress, right?"
Dr. Carter didn’t look entirely convinced. "And yet, you still had one hours ago. A pretty bad one, by the sound of it."
Liam exhaled slowly, rubbing his hands over his face. "Yeah… yeah, it was bad. But it's been a really long time since I last had such an intense dream. And I actually got a few hours of sleep today. That’s more than I can say for the last few weeks."
The therapist tilted his head slightly. "Right. And you said the medication has been helping with that?"
Liam shrugged. "I guess. The nightmares aren’t as intense, at least. But… uh—" he hesitated, scratching the back of his neck, "there’s been something else."
Dr. Carter raised a brow. "Go on."

Liam shifted uncomfortably. "I’ve started… sleepwalking. I mean, nothing crazy. I just wake up in weird places sometimes. On the couch, once in the bathroom. No big deal."
Dr. Carter leaned forward slightly, his expression sharpening. "Started? As in, this is a recurring thing?"
Liam waved a dismissive hand. "Not that often. Maybe a couple of times. And like I said, it’s not serious. It’s not like I’ve walked outside or done anything dangerous."
Dr. Carter didn’t look reassured. He tapped his pen against the notepad again. "Liam, sleepwalking isn’t something to just brush off. Especially in your case."
Liam frowned. "What do you mean, ‘in my case’?"
"Your history of trauma-related dissociation." Dr. Carter gestured subtly with his pen. "Your mind has a tendency to compartmentalize stress in ways you don’t always recognize. And now, with the added influence of medication, it’s possible your subconscious is processing things while you’re asleep."

Liam huffed a small, humorless laugh. "So, what? My body’s just decided to start moving around on its own?"
"It’s more complicated than that." Dr. Carter’s gaze was steady. "But my concern is that if this continues, there’s no way to predict how it might escalate. You might think it’s harmless now, but what if one night you’re not just walking to the couch?"
Liam scoffed. "Come on, Doc. You’re making it sound like I’m about to go on a rampage in my sleep."
"Liam." Dr. Carter’s voice was calm but firm. "It’s not about what you think will happen. It’s about what could happen."
Liam’s smirk faded slightly, his fingers tightening around the hem of his hoodie. He had been so focused on how much better he thought he was doing that he hadn’t really considered this as an issue.
"I just… I don’t want to make a big deal out of nothing," he muttered, suddenly feeling drained.
"Maybe it’s nothing," Dr. Carter allowed. "Or maybe it’s the first warning sign of something more serious. Either way, we need to keep an eye on it."
Liam sighed, running a hand through his hair. Deep down, he knew Carter had a point. But right now, the last thing he wanted was another thing to worry about.

Dr. Carter leaned back and tapped his pen against his clipboard. "Liam, I’m not saying this to alarm you, but we need to talk about it. Sleepwalking can be harmless, but in your case, we shouldn’t ignore it. We both know your subconscious has some pretty dark corners. If your body is moving around while you’re asleep, we need to make sure you’re not unintentionally putting yourself—or anyone else—at risk."
Liam avoided his gaze, as if he was already considering that possibility. "I don’t see how I could be dangerous to anyone while I’m asleep…"
Dr. Carter tilted his head slightly. "You just told me your nightmares are still there. Imagine if your body switched to autopilot in the middle of one of them."
Liam pressed his lips together. He really didn’t like that thought. At all.

Dr. Carter sighed quietly. "I’m not trying to scare you. But if this happens again, I want you to tell me immediately. We might need to reevaluate your medication. I don’t want to make any drastic changes right away, but I absolutely won’t risk you becoming a potential danger—neither to yourself nor to someone you care about."
Liam nodded slowly. "Okay… if it happens again, I’ll let you know."
"Good." Dr. Carter studied him for a moment. "Do me a favor and keep an eye on it. And if you start noticing more frequent memory gaps in the morning, let me know."
Liam shrugged. "Will do, Doc."
But deep down, he knew the thought unsettled him more than he wanted to admit.

Chapter Text

Liam wandered aimlessly through the streets, his mind still tangled in the thoughts Dr. Carter had planted during their session. Had it been a good session? A bad one? He wasn't sure. Carter had made some damn good points, ones that wouldn’t stop circling in his head. With a frustrated sigh, he shoved his hands into his jacket pockets, hoping that walking would help clear his mind.
That was when he spotted the supermarket.
His steps slowed, and he came to a halt in front of the automatic doors. Right—he had promised Enya he’d cook something nice for her tonight. A welcome distraction. Taking a deep breath, he stepped inside, the warmth of the store washing over him.
Liam grabbed a basket and started wandering through the aisles, scanning the shelves with little focus. What the hell was he even going to make? He briefly considered something easy—Fish and Chips, maybe? Spag Bol? But both ideas felt too simple. He wanted to do more. To impress her. To show her that he could actually put effort into things that mattered.

As he made his way toward the butcher counter, a sign caught his eye: “Prime Beef Cuts – Special Offer!”
He stopped.
His gaze fell on a beautifully marbled cut of beef, and an idea struck him like lightning. Beef Wellington. Fancy. Impressive. And definitely not something you just threw together.
He pulled out his phone and quickly searched for a recipe. As he scrolled, his confidence wavered for a split second. Puff pastry, mushroom duxelles, perfectly cooked filet wrapped in prosciutto… Alright, that’s a bit ambitious.
Then again, wasn’t that the point?
With newfound determination, he looked up at the butcher. “Yeah, I’ll take that one.”
As his meat was being wrapped, he mentally went through the list of everything else he’d need: mushrooms, prosciutto, Dijon mustard, puff pastry, eggs… He quickly jotted them down in his notes and made his way through the aisles with purpose, gathering each ingredient one by one.

By the time he reached the checkout, his basket was full, and his earlier doubts had taken a backseat to anticipation. This is gonna blow her mind.
He paid, grabbed his bags, and headed toward the nearest Underground station, a rare sense of excitement bubbling in his chest.
He couldn't wait to see the look on Enya’s face when she realized just what he had in store for her tonight.

**

Liam was deep in the cooking process, and the battlefield that was his kitchen reflected just that. The meat rested, the puff pastry lay ready, and the mushroom duxelles already filled the air with a savory scent in the pan. Somewhere in between all of that, he’d managed to pour himself a glass of wine – which he hadn’t yet touched. His hands were dusted with flour, his forehead glistened lightly from the stress, and his phone, with the recipe still open, had already suffered a bit of a greasy smudge.
Gremlin sat before him, nose in the air, watching every move he made with the intensity of a judge on a cooking show. The dog knew exactly when Liam was being clumsy – and that meant opportunities for dropped treats.
Just as Liam was about to wrap the filet in the pastry, he heard the door to the apartment open.
“I’m back!”
His heart skipped a beat. Oh, shit. I’m not done yet!

He turned around in panic, his hands in the air as if he could rewind time. Footsteps were coming closer. No, no, no! Hastily, he sprinted to the kitchen door, blocking it with outstretched arms.
Enya stopped in front of him, raising an eyebrow. “What are you doing?”
“Nothing!” Liam responded immediately, far too quickly to sound believable. “Well... something. But you can’t see it yet.”
Enya leaned slightly to the side as if trying to get a glimpse around him. Liam moved frantically, blocking her view. “Why not?” she asked, amused.
“Because... because it’s a surprise! Just stay out for a sec, okay?”
Gremlin, the traitor, saw his chance and stealthily slipped past Liam, sitting right in front of Enya. He looked extremely satisfied with himself – and had a small patch of dough on his black nose.
Enya burst out laughing. “Oh wow. Looks like quite the cooking marathon.”
“No, it’s not,” Liam said, trying to sound calm, but his gaze darted over his shoulder to the kitchen – and he saw the chaos in all its glory. Oh, damn. She’s right.

“Liam, let me at least take a quick peek—”
“No!” he called, far too panicked, and stretched his arms out as if he could keep her out with pure willpower. “Go shower or something. Or sit on the couch. I’ll bring it to you when it’s ready.”
Enya tilted her head and crossed her arms over her chest. Her smile showed that she was thoroughly enjoying herself.
“Oooh. A real surprise?”
“Yes!”
She dragged out the word, as if considering it. “Hmm. Okay, I’ll let you do your thing. But if you burn the place down...”
Liam breathed a sigh of relief when she finally turned and headed toward the living room. Just as he thought the danger had passed, she turned around again.
“Oh, and Liam?”
“Yeah?”
“Gremlin’s got dough on his nose.”
Damn it.
Once Enya was out of sight, Liam turned back to the kitchen, looked at the chaos, and muttered, “Okay, time to move.”
Gremlin sneezed. A small cloud of flour puffed from his fur.
Liam sighed. “I hope you’re at least impressed.”
The dog just wagged his tail expectantly.

As Enya stepped into the shower, she let the hot water cascade down her body, washing away the fatigue of the day. She sighed, stretching her neck from side to side, and allowed her mind to wander.
Of course, she was curious about what Liam was up to in the kitchen. He had been so adamant about keeping her away, practically shooing her out of the room like a misbehaving puppy. Whatever he was making, it had to be something special. She smiled to herself. Liam could be a bit chaotic when he cooked, but she knew he was good at it. She decided to just let herself be surprised.
Then, inevitably, her thoughts drifted to the previous night—the way he had touched her, the way he had taken her. Her lips curled into a smirk as she recalled the intensity of it. It had felt so damn good to have him again after all those weeks of distance. But as the steam filled the bathroom, so did a creeping doubt. She had pushed him into it, hadn’t she? She hadn’t given him many options.
But he wanted it too, right?

She scoffed at herself. Of course he had. What man would say no when she had practically laid herself out for him?
Still, there had been a reason he had kept his distance. A reason he had been so hesitant. And yet, last night, all of that had crumbled. He had lost control—completely. He had devoured her, left his mark on her in a way he never had before.
As she stepped out of the shower, she grabbed a towel and dried herself off, her gaze catching her reflection in the fogged-up mirror. She tilted her head, running her fingers over the dark bruises and faint bite marks scattered across her skin. A shiver ran down her spine.
Liam had truly unleashed something last night.
And then, almost instinctively, her thoughts shifted to Jayden.

Jayden would never be that rough. Sure, he’d left his fair share of love bites on her before, but his touch was always different—controlled, careful, restrained. She bit her lip as she wondered: would he ever be capable of taking her the way Liam had?
Would she want him to?
The thought lingered as she pulled on a fresh pair of panties and an oversized T-shirt. Maybe she should bring it up with him. See if he’d be open to trying something a little… rougher.
Enya took one last look in the mirror, ran a hand through her still-damp hair, and left the bathroom. With a satisfied sigh, she flopped onto the bed, grabbed her phone, and started typing a quick message to Jayden.
But before she could hit send, something else—someone else—caught her attention. Her stomach growled like a starving animal.
“Can I come into the kitchen now?” she called out loud enough for Liam to hear.
“No! Ten more minutes!” came his immediate response from the kitchen.
Enya snorted in amusement. “You’re acting like you’re preparing a three-course meal.”
“Maybe I am!” Liam shot back, his voice dripping with exaggerated drama.

Shaking her head with a grin, she finally tapped on the video call button for Jayden. It only took a few seconds before his face appeared on the screen—slightly disheveled, a steaming mug of coffee in his hand.
“Hey darling,” he greeted her with a sleepy smile.
“Good morning, Rockstar,” she smirked. “How’s life in L.A.?”
“Early,” Jayden groaned, rubbing a hand over his face before taking a long sip of coffee. “Way too early.”
Before Enya could respond, another face suddenly pushed into the frame—Michael, holding a massive plate of pancakes. “ENYA! Look what I got inked!”
“Uh… okay?” Enya blinked in confusion as Michael dramatically shoved his arm into the camera.
“Tadaaa!” A brand-new, vibrant floral tattoo adorned his forearm, blending perfectly with his other ink.

“Wow, that looks amazing! When did you get that done?”
“A few days ago!” Michael declared proudly before stuffing a giant bite of pancake into his mouth. “It didn't hurt at all. Although it itches like hell now, but beauty has its price, right?”
Jayden rolled his eyes. “He complained all night about how much it hurt, but now he’s strutting around like he belongs in the Louvre.”
“Jealousy doesn’t suit you, mate,” Michael quipped, winking at Enya.
“Oh yeah, we’re all dying of envy,” Jayden deadpanned, pouring himself another cup of coffee.
“Speaking of food…” Enya leaned back against the pillows. “Liam’s banning me from the kitchen because he’s cooking something ‘amazing’ for me.”
“Oho!” Michael’s eyes gleamed with amusement. “Has he finally discovered his passion for cooking?”
“Apparently,” she chuckled. “I have no idea what he’s making, but he sounds very determined.”
“Maybe he's trying to make the best sandwiches in the world.” Michael muttered before taking another bite of pancakes.

Jayden snorted. “Wait—has Liam ever actually cooked a real meal before?”
“No clue.” Enya shrugged. “But now I’m even more curious.”
Jayden grinned. “If you end up with food poisoning later, call me. I’ll come to your rescue.”
“Very funny.”
“I’m serious.”
Michael smirked. “If he screws up, you can always swap him for me. I can cook. And I look damn good in an apron.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.” Enya laughed and glanced at the time. “Alright, you two breakfast clowns, I better let you go. My food should be ready soon.”
“Good luck!” Michael called as Jayden gave her a warm smile and said, “Take care, Ny-Ny.”
“You too.”
With a contented sigh, she ended the call and shook her head, laughing to herself. Those two were absolutely impossible.

Just as Enya was about to get up from the bed, her stomach made another loud, dramatic growl. She groaned and stretched, pushing herself to her feet before heading toward the door.
“Are you finally done?” she called out. “I’m starving!”
She barely made it two steps toward the kitchen before Liam suddenly appeared around the corner, moving fast enough that she almost ran straight into him.
“I’m done,” he announced, a satisfied grin on his face.
Before she could move past him, he lifted a hand, holding something soft and silky in front of her nose.
A scarf?
“For the element of surprise,” he said with a playful smirk.
Enya reached out, running her fingers over the smooth fabric, then raised a brow. “Oh, kinky.”
Liam chuckled, clearly amused. “Trust me, what you’re about to experience is pure food porn.”
Her lips curled into a grin. “Now you’ve got my full attention.”

Gently, Liam tied the scarf around her eyes, his fingers brushing against her skin as he adjusted it into place. “Alright, just trust me and follow my lead.”
Enya let him guide her, feeling the warmth of his hand on the small of her back as he carefully led her into the kitchen. The scent of something rich and savory filled her nose, making her mouth water even more.
“Ready?” Liam’s voice was right by her ear now.
“God, yes.”
He untied the scarf and let it fall away.
Enya blinked a few times, adjusting to the soft, dim lighting. Then her eyes widened.
The kitchen had been transformed. Candles flickered on the table, their warm glow casting dancing shadows on the walls. A bottle of wine sat chilling in an ice bucket, and two elegantly plated meals were arranged with care. The whole setup looked straight out of a fancy restaurant.
“Holy shit.”
Liam grinned at her reaction. “Good surprise or bad surprise?”

Enya turned to him, her expression a mix of shock and admiration. “This is incredible. Did you—did you actually set up a candlelight dinner for me?”
He shrugged, trying to play it cool, but the smug pride was evident in his eyes. “Wanted to do something special.”
Enya was already impressed, but then her gaze landed on the plates. She inhaled sharply.
“Wait a second… Is that—” She turned back to him, eyes wide. “Beef Wellington?”
Liam’s grin widened. “Thought I’d step up my game.”
Enya just stared at him. “What the actual fuck, Liam? Since when can you cook like this?”
He laughed, rubbing the back of his neck. “Guess I’ve been holding out on you.”
She shook her head in disbelief, a slow smile spreading across her lips. “You sneaky bastard.”
Liam pulled out her chair, gesturing for her to sit. “Shall we?”
Still shaking her head in amazement, Enya let herself sink into the seat, eyes flicking between him and the beautifully plated meal in front of her.
“If this tastes as good as it looks, you might actually be the perfect man,” she mused.
Liam smirked. “Oh, sweetheart, just wait until you take a bite.”

Enya picked up her knife and fork, cutting into the perfectly golden pastry. As soon as she took the first bite, her eyes widened in pure delight. The beef was cooked to perfection—tender, juicy, and wrapped in a crisp, buttery crust. The flavors of the mushroom duxelles and the hint of mustard blended seamlessly, creating an explosion of taste on her tongue.
She let out a soft, involuntary moan. “Oh my god.”
Liam smirked. “Good?”
She pointed her fork at him. “You seriously undersold this. You weren’t kidding about the food porn.”
Liam chuckled as he took his own first bite, watching in amusement as Enya all but melted in her chair. Every time she cut into another piece, she either groaned in pleasure or muttered a quiet curse under her breath.
“This is insane,” she mumbled around another mouthful.
Liam leaned back, arms crossed. “So, I take it you approve?”
“Approve?” Enya scoffed. “Liam, this is—this is marriage material.”

He laughed at that, shaking his head. “Good to know my cooking skills can get me a proposal.”
By the time they finished their meal, Enya sat back in her chair, completely satisfied, while Liam poured them each a glass of wine.
She sighed happily. “Alright, tell me—what did I do to deserve something this amazing?”
Liam glanced at her, a slow grin tugging at his lips. “Well, for starters, you gave me one hell of a night.”
Enya smirked, tilting her glass in his direction. “That’s true.”
His expression softened as he swirled the wine in his glass. “But honestly… my day wasn’t great. My therapist said some things that really got to me. Got me thinking.”
Enya frowned, concern flickering in her eyes. “What did he say?”
Liam noticed the shift in her demeanor, the worry settling in her features. He shook his head lightly, offering her a reassuring smile. “Nothing you need to worry about.”
Her lips pressed together, clearly not convinced.
Liam reached for her hand, giving it a squeeze. “I just... cook best when I need to clear my head.”

Enya studied him for a moment, but she could tell he wasn’t going to open up about it right now. She exhaled softly, running her thumb over the back of his hand.
Liam took another sip of his wine before suddenly grinning. “Tell you what—we’ll move to the couch, put on a movie, and you can keep showering me with compliments about my cooking skills.”
Enya rolled her eyes, but a smile played at her lips. “Oh, how generous of you.”
He winked. “I aim to please.”
Shaking her head, she stood up, grabbing her wine glass. “Alright, fine. But you’re picking the movie.”
Liam smirked. “Oh, I already have something in mind.”
She eyed him suspiciously as they made their way to the couch. “Liam, if you put on some ridiculous action movie where everything explodes for no reason, I swear—”
Liam laughed, slinging an arm over her shoulder as he pulled her close. “Oh, sweetheart, have a little faith.”
She huffed, but as she curled into his side, she decided—whatever movie he picked, she wasn’t really going to mind.

As Liam scrolled through the movie options, Enya eyed him suspiciously, already preparing for whatever nonsense he was about to pull. When he hovered over a terrible-looking low-budget action flick, she groaned.
“Don’t you dare.”
Liam smirked but, to her relief, settled on a thriller instead. He made himself comfortable on the couch, one arm draped lazily over the backrest, while Gremlin hopped up and curled against his side.
"Oi, make some room for me," Enya grumbled, nudging the dog playfully before sinking between Liam’s legs and leaning back against his chest.
For a while, they simply watched the film in content silence. But then, out of nowhere, Liam's hands found her shoulders, his thumbs pressing into her tense muscles with practiced ease. Enya let out a soft sigh, closing her eyes as she melted into his touch.
“Mmm… what did I do to deserve this?” she murmured.
Liam's voice was low, almost contemplative. "You exist."

A warm, fluttery feeling spread through her chest. She smiled, enjoying the slow, rhythmic motion of his hands, but soon enough, guilt crept in. He was always so good to her—cooking for her, massaging her, taking care of her. And what had she done in return today? Nothing.
That wouldn’t do.
Turning in his arms, she reached up and kissed him deeply, her fingers threading through his hair as she pressed herself against him. Liam let out a quiet sound of surprise, but he didn’t stop her, responding just as eagerly. Her hands roamed over his body, slipping beneath his shirt, ready to tug it over his head—
But then Liam pulled back, stopping her.
Enya frowned. "What?"
He gave her a pointed look. "You asked me for a break this morning. So, I'm giving you one."
She blinked. Then pouted. "I didn’t mean the whole day, Liam."
He chuckled, clearly enjoying her frustration, but remained firm. "Too bad. You’re gonna get a proper night’s sleep for once."
To prove his point, he reached for the pill bottle on the coffee table, popped out his meds, and swallowed them down with a sip of Coke. Then he smirked.
"Give me an hour, and I’ll be dead to the world."

Enya rolled her eyes. "Yeah, sure. And then you’ll start sleepwalking again and probably strangle me in your sleep."
She was joking. But still, for just a second, neither of them laughed.
Then Liam scoffed, ruffling her hair. "Oh, please. If anything, you’d be the one strangling me for snoring."
They both chuckled, the moment of unease slipping away as they refocused on the film.

**

The movie was over, and Liam had barely made it through the last thirty minutes. His body had grown heavier, his eyelids drooping despite his best efforts to stay awake. Enya had noticed, of course. The way his hands had slowed their idle movements on her shoulders, the way his breath had deepened behind her.
“You’re falling asleep,” she murmured, turning slightly to glance at him.
Liam blinked sluggishly. “M’not.”
Enya snorted. “Come on, bed.” She nudged him gently until he groaned in protest but let her pull him up. He was warm and pliant in her hands as she led him to his room.
By the time she eased him down onto the bed, he was already half gone. She chuckled softly as she tugged his shirt off, then peeled his jeans down his legs. “You’re like a drunk toddler,” she teased, but he only hummed sleepily in response.

After pulling the covers over him, she leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to his forehead. Just as she was about to turn and leave, his voice, thick with exhaustion, mumbled, “Don’t even think about sneaking back in here for a surprise blowjob.”
Enya grinned. “As if you’d complain.”
A deep chuckle rumbled in his chest, but before he could respond, sleep claimed him.

Chapter Text

Something felt… off.
Liam drifted in that strange space between sleep and wakefulness, where reality and dreams blurred together. His limbs were heavy, his body warm and sluggish, wrapped in the hazy cocoon of his medication. He wasn’t sure if he could move—or if he even wanted to.
Then he heard something.
The soft creak of his bedroom door easing open.
A shadow slipped inside, silent and deliberate. Liam’s breath caught in his throat, but before he could fully react, a warm finger pressed against his lips, silencing him before he could even think to speak.
A dream. This had to be a dream.
But fuck, it felt real.

His blanket was peeled away with careful hands, exposing his bare torso to the cool air. Fingers traced down his chest, featherlight at first, then firmer as they followed the hard lines of his abdomen. The touch was slow, teasing, knowing. Like they were memorizing every inch of him.
Lips followed soon after, pressing soft, open-mouthed kisses down his sternum, over his ribs, and lower. A shiver rolled through him as warm breath ghosted over his skin, just above the waistband of his boxers.
Liam’s body reacted before his mind could catch up.
He was already half-hard, his cock twitching in anticipation as those skilled hands slipped beneath the waistband, teasing at the sensitive skin just below his navel. He wanted to lift his hips, to push into the touch, but his body felt heavy, his muscles lax under the weight of sleep. All he could do was feel.
His boxers were eased down, just enough to free him, and cool air brushed over his now fully hard length.
Then, warmth.

Soft lips pressed a teasing kiss to the tip before a hot, wet mouth engulfed him in one slow, deliberate motion. Liam let out a sharp breath through his nose, his fingers twitching against the sheets as pleasure spiked through his body.
Whoever they were, they knew exactly what they were doing.
Their tongue flicked against the underside of his shaft, tracing every sensitive spot with agonizing precision. Their pace was slow at first, torturously slow, like they wanted to savor him. Hollowed cheeks, the gentle scrape of teeth, the way they took him deeper with every bob of their head—it was enough to make his thighs tense involuntarily, a strained groan slipping past his lips.
His chest rose and fell in uneven breaths.
It felt too fucking good.
His body wanted to react, wanted to thrust up into that sinful heat, but the weight of exhaustion kept him pinned. All he could do was take it, let the pleasure wash over him as his mystery lover worked him to the edge with relentless, practiced skill.
His pulse pounded in his ears. His stomach clenched. The pleasure coiled tighter, hotter, until—

A low, broken moan escaped him as he came hard, spilling onto a waiting tongue. His whole body shuddered, a deep, sated exhale leaving his lips as he sagged against the mattress.
Soft lips pressed one last kiss to his oversensitive length before retreating.
Gentle hands pulled his boxers back into place, tucked the blanket over him again, and lingered for only a moment—just long enough for one final, ghosting touch along his jawline.
Then the figure was gone.
The door clicked shut.
Liam exhaled.
What the fuck just happened?

**

Enya woke up with a strange feeling in her gut. Something wasn’t right. At first, she couldn’t quite place it, still caught in the lingering haze of sleep. But then she noticed Gremlin. The little dog was pacing near the door, whimpering softly, his nails clicking against the floor as he tried to push the door open with his nose.
“What’s wrong?” she mumbled, rubbing the sleep from her eyes.
Gremlin spun in anxious circles, his tail tucked low.
Now fully awake, Enya frowned and swung her legs out of bed. As soon as she cracked the door open, Gremlin bolted down the hallway like a shot.
“Gremlin?” she called after him, but he was already gone.
Her confusion deepened as she followed him, her bare feet padding softly against the floor. When she entered the kitchen, she froze.
“Oh no…” she breathed, her stomach twisting painfully.

Liam stood there, his back to her, completely still—unnaturally so. His muscles were rigid, his entire body stiff with tension. Sweat glistened on his bare back, rolling down his spine.
And he was murmuring something.
Enya couldn’t make out the words, but they sent a chill down her spine.
He was sleepwalking again.
Cautiously, she stepped closer, heart pounding. Should she just talk to him? Try to lead him back to bed like last time?
“Liam,” she said softly, reaching out to take his hand.
The reaction was immediate.
His hand jerked away, his voice sharp with sudden panic.
“No—don’t!”
Enya flinched.

Her eyes darted to Gremlin, hoping for some kind of reassurance. But the little dog had pressed himself low to the ground, ears flattened, his whole body trembling. He wasn’t approaching. He was keeping his distance.
That wasn’t a good sign, was it?
She swallowed hard.
She had to try again.
“Liam, wake up,” she said, firmer this time.
She reached for his hand once more—
But before she could react, Liam spun around so fast it made her gasp. His hands shot out, gripping her arms in a vice-like hold.
And then he shoved her back.
Her body slammed against the fridge with a dull thud.
"Leave her alone!" he shouted.
His grip tightened.
Pain shot through her arms.
For a split second, Enya wasn’t in their kitchen anymore. She was somewhere else—trapped in a different nightmare.
Ryan.
Ryan’s hands grabbing her just like this.
Ryan throwing her to the floor.
Ryan’s boot slamming into her ribs.

Her breath hitched. She was trembling—her whole body shaking uncontrollably.
She couldn’t fight Liam off. Not like this. Not when he wasn’t even awake.
Then, suddenly—
A sharp bark.
Gremlin launched himself at Liam, barking furiously. He jumped up once, then twice, his tiny paws shoving at Liam’s legs.
Liam blinked rapidly, as if snapping out of a fog. His grip loosened.
And then—
He let go.
His glassy, unfocused eyes cleared as he stared at her, dazed and disoriented.
“What… what happened?” he mumbled.
Enya couldn’t answer. She couldn’t breathe.
Her chest rose and fell in quick, shallow gasps, her hands trembling violently.
And Liam—he saw it.

Even if he didn’t understand what had just happened, he could see it. The sheer terror in her eyes. The way she pressed herself against the fridge, like she needed to keep as much distance between them as possible.
His stomach dropped.
“Enya, I—”
He took a cautious step toward her.
She flinched.
And backed away.
Like she was afraid of him.
Liam felt something inside him break.
“Go to bed, Liam,” she whispered, her voice small and shaky. “Please.”
He hesitated.
He didn’t want to leave her like this. Not when she was still shaking, still struggling to catch her breath.
But he knew.
Knew that whatever had just happened—whatever he had done—he couldn’t fix it right now.
So he swallowed the lump in his throat and nodded.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered.
Then he turned and walked away, disappearing into his bedroom.
As soon as she heard the soft click of his door closing, Enya’s knees gave out.
She sank to the floor, her head falling forward as she gasped for breath, trying to steady the whirlwind of panic inside her.
Gremlin curled up beside her, pressing against her side, his warm little body offering the only comfort he could.

Enya sat on the floor, her back pressed against the kitchen cabinets, arms wrapped tightly around herself. Gremlin nestled beside her, his small body warm against her thigh, but even his presence wasn’t enough to pull her out of the spiral.
Her breathing was still ragged, her chest rising and falling in quick, uneven gasps. Her fingers dug into her arms, nails pressing hard into her skin, but she barely felt it.
Liam had grabbed her.
Liam had hurt her.
Her mind replayed the moment in agonizing detail—the iron grip on her arms, the force of being shoved against the fridge, the panic in his voice as he’d shouted, Leave her alone!
Her throat tightened.
It wasn’t his fault.
It wasn’t his fault.
She knew that.
He wasn’t awake. He hadn’t meant to hurt her.
But her body didn’t care about logic.
Her body remembered.
It remembered what it felt like to be at someone else’s mercy. To be small. To be powerless. To be trapped.

She clenched her eyes shut, trying to force the thoughts away, but it only made everything worse. The memories crashed over her like a tidal wave.
Ryan’s voice.
Ryan’s hands.
The feeling of his boot against her ribs.
A soft whimper escaped her throat.
She sucked in a shaky breath, trying to slow her heartbeat, but it wasn’t working.
Stop it, Enya.
She pressed her palms against her face.
Liam wasn’t Ryan.
Liam would never hurt her.
Not on purpose.
Not really.
A sudden wave of guilt punched through the panic, twisting her stomach into knots.
She had flinched from him. Backed away like she was afraid of him.
And she had seen the way that had shattered him.
A quiet sob broke free, and she bit her lip hard enough to taste blood.

She had to get herself together.
She wasn’t there anymore.
Ryan was gone.
She was safe.
It took another few minutes before her nervous system finally started to calm. Her breaths came easier, the shaking in her hands subsided enough that she could loosen her death grip on her arms.
And then, clarity cut through the fog.
Jayden.
She needed to hear his voice.
With unsteady legs, she pushed herself off the floor, swaying slightly as she made her way back to the bedroom. Gremlin followed closely behind, his tail low, his eyes fixed on her as if he could sense her distress.
She grabbed her phone from the nightstand and hesitated for a moment, staring at Jayden’s name on the screen.
It was 4 AM in London.
He’s probably asleep, she thought. Or busy.
She shouldn't call.
She should just—
But before she could overthink it, her finger pressed the call button.

The phone rang once.
Twice.
Then—
“Ny-Ny?” Jayden’s voice was a mixture of groggy and confused. She heard rustling in the background, followed by the faint sound of voices—like he was in a studio or backstage somewhere.
Shit.
“Jay, I—I’m sorry,” she stammered, suddenly regretting the call. “I didn’t realize you were working. I’ll just—”
“Wait.” His voice sharpened, suddenly more alert. “Are you okay?”
Enya froze.
She hadn’t even said anything yet, but somehow, he knew.
She tried to answer, but her voice caught in her throat.
Jayden went quiet for a second, and then she heard movement—like he was walking away from wherever he was.
“What happened?” His voice was softer now, edged with concern. “Talk to me, love.”

Enya hesitated.
She didn’t want to worry Jayden.
And she definitely didn’t want to take him away from whatever he was doing.
But she also knew him well enough to know that he wouldn’t let it go. He’d keep pressing until she told him the truth.
So, she took a shaky breath and forced herself to speak.
“Liam was sleepwalking again,” she admitted, keeping her voice as steady as possible. “There was just… a little scare, that’s all. It startled me, and I had a small panic attack. But I’m okay now, really.”
Jayden was quiet for a second, but she could feel his concern through the phone.
“A little scare?” he repeated, clearly not convinced.
Enya bit her lip.
She couldn’t tell him everything.
If he knew Liam had actually grabbed her—if he knew how badly it had triggered her—he’d worry himself sick.
And she didn’t want that.
“I promise, Jay,” she said softly. “It wasn’t anything major. I just… I needed to hear your voice. It always helps.”
That was the truth, at least.

Jayden let out a slow breath on the other end. Then, his voice softened.
“Do you want me to stay on the phone with you for a while?” he asked. “Just until you’re ready to sleep?”
A lump formed in Enya’s throat.
She hadn’t even thought about asking him that, but the fact that he offered—that he didn’t just say Go back to sleep or You’ll be fine—it made her heart ache in the best way.
She swallowed past the tightness and nodded, even though he couldn’t see her.
“Yeah,” she whispered. “I’d like that.”
“Alright then.”
His voice was warm, steady. A comfort she hadn’t realized she needed so badly.
She climbed back into bed, pulling the blanket over herself and Gremlin, who immediately curled up against her. The dog let out a little huff, pressing his small body closer, and Enya smiled faintly, scratching behind his ears.
“Okay,” Jayden said. “Let’s see… what can I talk about?”
She could hear him shifting, probably settling in somewhere. Then, his voice took on a casual, lighthearted tone.
“Oh! The weather here has been amazing. Blue skies, sunshine—Michael and I actually went sightseeing today. Can you believe that? Me. Doing touristy things.”
Enya let out a soft chuckle, already feeling some of the tension leave her body.
Jayden hummed thoughtfully before continuing.

“We walked around Hollywood Boulevard for a bit. Michael made me take a picture next to some random star on the Walk of Fame—can’t even remember whose it was, but I’m pretty sure he just picked it because the name sounded funny.”
Enya smiled.
“Did he force you to wear one of those ridiculous tourist hats?” she asked, voice still a little hoarse from earlier.
“Thankfully, no. But only because I threatened him.”
She could hear the smirk in his voice, and it made warmth bloom in her chest.
He kept talking—about the food, the weird street performers, the absolutely awful Elvis impersonator they’d passed. He described everything with such vivid detail that Enya could almost picture it, and little by little, she felt herself relax.
Then, his voice softened again.
“I miss you, you know,” he murmured.
Enya’s heart clenched.
“I miss you too,” she admitted. “It’s weird not having you around.”
“Tell me about it. Can’t wait to get back.”
She could hear how genuine he was. How much he meant it.
The conversation drifted on—soft, easy, comforting.
And somewhere in the middle of Jayden’s rambling about how horrendously overpriced everything was, Enya’s eyelids grew heavy.
Her body relaxed fully for the first time since the incident, and before she even realized it, she drifted into a light, dreamless sleep.

**

He should have been asleep.
The meds should have knocked him out by now, but his heart was still racing, and his thoughts wouldn’t let him rest.
Something was wrong.
He could feel it—deep in his chest, like a weight pressing down on him. He desperately tried to remember what happened.
The sound of Enya’s voice pulling him back.
The warmth of her hand—small, gentle—against his.
The sheer terror in her eyes when she looked at him.
His stomach twisted painfully.
He didn’t know exactly what had happened.
But the way she had flinched from him, the way she had begged him to go back to bed…
He had scared her.
No. Worse than that.
He had done something.
Something that made her look at him as if he was a threat.

Liam rolled onto his side, rubbing a hand over his face. His body felt foreign—like a vessel he no longer controlled.
"Fuck..." he whispered into the darkness.
Gremlin wasn’t here.
Normally, the dog stuck close to him, but tonight… he was with Enya.
Of course, he was.
Liam closed his eyes, swallowing hard.
What if he…?
What if she…?
His breath caught in his throat.
He forced himself to inhale, slow and deep, but it felt like he was suffocating. The weight on his chest grew heavier, guilt sinking its claws into him, digging deep.
He could have hurt her.
Or worse.
What if next time is worse?
Liam rolled onto his back, staring at the ceiling, his hands clenched into fists.
He wasn’t in control.
His own body was a ticking time bomb, and he had no fucking idea how to stop it.
He felt… powerless.
Alone.
And, more than anything?
He was afraid.

Chapter Text

The first thing Enya became aware of when she woke up was the dull ache in her chest—an invisible weight pressing down on her, making it hard to breathe. She lay still, staring at the ceiling, as the memories of last night replayed in her mind like a bad dream.
Liam’s hands gripping her arms.
The fear that had paralyzed her.
The way his voice had echoed with someone else’s desperation.
But most of all, the look in his eyes when he finally woke up. The confusion. The horror. The silent plea for forgiveness.
She turned onto her side, her gaze landing on Gremlin, curled up at the edge of the bed. The dog’s ears perked up as if sensing her unease, and he let out a quiet sigh before scooting closer, pressing his warm body against her. Enya ran a hand through his fur absentmindedly.
How am I supposed to act around him now?

She didn’t want to be afraid of Liam. She knew it hadn’t been him, not really. He hadn’t meant to hurt her. But her body didn’t seem to care about logic—her body had reacted on pure instinct, and that instinct had told her to run.
With a deep breath, she forced herself to sit up. Avoiding Liam forever wasn’t an option. Sooner or later, they had to talk.
She swung her legs over the edge of the bed and stood up, stretching slightly before making her way toward the kitchen. Maybe coffee would help clear her mind.
But as soon as she stepped through the doorway, she froze.
Liam was already there.
He stood by the table, a mug in his hands, but he wasn’t drinking. His gaze was distant, his posture tense. He looked exhausted.
For a brief second, Enya considered turning around and pretending she hadn’t seen him.
Too late. Liam looked up.
Their eyes met.

A beat of silence stretched between them before Liam cleared his throat. “Morning.”
Enya hesitated, then nodded. “Morning.”
She didn’t sit down. Instead, she walked to the counter, putting some distance between them as she reached for a mug.
Liam watched her for a moment before he set his own cup down with a quiet clink. “We need to talk.”
Enya’s stomach twisted. “Liam, we don’t have to—”
“Yes, we do.” His voice was calm but firm. “I need to know exactly what happened last night.”
She tightened her grip on the mug, staring down into the empty porcelain. “It wasn’t that bad.”
Liam exhaled sharply, rubbing a hand over his face. “Enya, please.”
The desperation in his voice made her chest tighten. She swallowed hard, her fingers curling around the edge of the counter. “You were sleepwalking again. You were sweating, mumbling something. I tried to wake you up.”
Liam’s hands clenched into fists at his sides. “And?”
Enya hesitated, then forced the words out. “You pushed me. Hard. I hit the fridge.”
Liam paled. He looked physically sick. “Fuck…”
“You said something,” Enya continued quietly. “‘Leave her alone.’ I think you were reliving something.”
Liam took a shaky breath and stepped closer. “I need to tell Dr. Carter about this. I need to understand what’s happening.”

Enya kept her gaze locked on the counter, her body rigid.
Liam took another step.
Then another.
When he finally reached out to take her hand, she reacted before she could stop herself.
She stepped back. Two steps. Away from him.
Liam froze as if she had physically struck him. For a second, he didn’t move, didn’t even breathe. Then, in a voice barely above a whisper, he asked, “Are you...afraid of me?”
Enya opened her mouth, then closed it. Her throat felt tight.
She didn’t want to be afraid.
But she couldn’t lie, either. She lowered her gaze, unable to meet his eyes.
That silence was answer enough.
Liam swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing. “That’s exactly why I need to know everything.” His voice cracked slightly. “Please, Enya.”
She hesitated for a long moment. Then, slowly, she began to tell him the rest.
And with every word, Liam felt himself slowly falling apart.

**

The silence between them seemed to stretch on forever. At some point, Enya looked at the clock and realized that she had to leave if she wanted to be at work on time. "I have to go," she mumbled as she put down the cup to pack her things. As she put on her jacket, she paused for a moment. She involuntarily reminisced.
Yesterday at this time, their world was still in order. Liam had asked her what she wanted to eat when she got home and gave her a pat on the bottom as he left. And today? It felt like her world was in ruins. And sadly, not for the first time.
She left the house and didn't even notice that she didn't say goodbye to Liam.

Enya closed the front door behind her, exhaling a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding. She stood still for a moment, listening. The house remained quiet. No sound of Liam moving around, no sign that he had followed her. Good. She wasn’t sure she could face another conversation right now.
She made her way to the car, the cool morning air biting at her skin. Her fingers fumbled with the keys as she got in, shutting the door with more force than necessary. As soon as she was inside, a strange stillness settled over her. She had said she was going to work. That was the plan, wasn’t it? Go about her day as if nothing had happened. But her body had other ideas. Her hands were shaking. Her chest felt too tight.
She gritted her teeth. It’s fine. It’s not that bad. You’re overreacting.
But then why did her heart refuse to slow down? Why did she feel like she was still pressed against that refrigerator, Liam’s grip on her arms, his voice raw with something that hadn’t been meant for her?

Her throat clenched. Before she could talk herself out of it, she pulled out her phone and scrolled down to Dr. Hayes’ number. She hesitated for a second, then pressed call.
The line rang twice before a familiar voice answered.
"Dr. Hayes' office, how can I help you?"
Enya swallowed hard. “Hi, it’s Enya Davies. I—” She hesitated. Her free hand gripped the steering wheel, as if bracing herself. “I… I was wondering if Dr. Hayes has any openings today. As soon as possible, actually.”
There was a pause on the other end. “Let me check,” the receptionist said, her tone shifting slightly—polite, but with a hint of concern. The clicking of a keyboard followed.
Enya shut her eyes and leaned her forehead against the steering wheel. Her fingers tightened around the phone. Maybe I don’t need this. Maybe I can just go to work and push it away. It’s just a bad morning.
But her body disagreed. The tremor in her hands was getting worse.

“Ms. Davies?”
She sat up straighter. “Yes?”
“You’re in luck. Dr. Hayes had a cancellation this morning. She can see you in an hour. Will that work?”
Relief and dread collided in her chest. “Yes. Thank you.”
She hung up before she could change her mind.
For a long moment, she just sat there, staring at the screen of her phone. She should drive. Either to work or to the appointment. Just… somewhere.
But all she could do was breathe and try to convince herself that she had made the right choice.

Liam stood by the window, watching as Enya walked to her car. She moved with purpose—like she had somewhere to be, something to do. But when she reached the driver’s seat, she didn’t start the engine.
Instead, she just sat there.
His stomach twisted.
Maybe she was just gathering herself. Maybe she was answering a text. Maybe she’s trying to breathe because of you.
Liam clenched his jaw, his fingers curling into fists at his sides. He should look away, give her space, but he couldn’t. He watched as she brought her phone to her ear. Calling someone.
His chest tightened.
Who? Her boss? Jayden? Dr. Hayes?
The thought made his pulse spike. If she was calling her therapist, that meant last night had shaken her more than she let on. Because of you.
Liam exhaled sharply and rubbed a hand over his face. His skin was damp with sweat. Fuck.

By the time Enya finally pulled out of the driveway and disappeared down the street, Liam felt like he couldn’t breathe properly.
He turned away from the window and reached for his own phone. His fingers hovered over the screen for a moment before he forced himself to dial the number.
The line rang once. Twice. Then—
"Dr. Carter’s office, this is Melissa speaking."
Liam swallowed. “Hey, it’s Liam. I—” His voice faltered, and he cleared his throat. “I need to see Dr. Carter. Today. As soon as possible.”
A pause. Then: "Alright, let me check his schedule. Is everything okay?"
No. Nothing was okay. He had hurt her.
Liam pressed his free hand against his chest, willing himself to breathe normally. “It’s urgent,” he said, voice unsteady. “Please.”

Liam slowly sank onto the couch, his phone still clutched in his hand. The call had been brief, but it was enough to set something in motion inside him—or maybe it was more like the sensation of falling into an abyss.
His fingers moved almost automatically, unlocking the screen, opening the chat with Enya. He typed a message:
"Are you okay?"
His thumb hovered over the send button. Seconds passed. His gaze drifted to the window, to the driveway where her car had been parked just minutes ago. The memory of her hesitation, the way she had pulled away from him, made his chest feel unbearably tight.
He deleted the message.
What if reaching out only made things worse? What if he was the last person she wanted to hear from right now?
Liam leaned his head back against the couch, letting the phone slip onto the cushion beside him. His hands trembled slightly, so he clenched them into fists.

He had to wait for Dr. Carter. He had to go through with this. For himself—but more importantly, for her.
The silence in the house pressed in around him. Only Gremlin lay on his bed, ears perked up, watching him as if he knew exactly what was going on inside Liam’s head.
Liam inhaled deeply, then exhaled just as slowly.
He would make this right. Somehow.

**

Enya sat on the couch in Dr. Hayes’ office, her hands clasped tightly in her lap. She had been here so many times before, but today, the room felt smaller, like the walls were closing in on her.
She had been talking—sort of. Dancing around the subject, picking apart meaningless details while avoiding the one thing she should be saying.
Dr. Hayes let her talk. She always did. But Enya knew that patience was a trap; it would only last until the moment she ran out of things to say.
And that moment had come.
Dr. Hayes tilted her head slightly. “Enya,” she said gently. “Something happened, didn’t it?”
Enya inhaled sharply. “I... I don’t know,” she murmured, staring down at the frayed hem of her sleeve.
Dr. Hayes remained silent, waiting.
Seconds stretched between them. Then, finally, Enya whispered, “Liam.”
It was barely a word, barely a sound, but it was enough to snap something inside her. She felt it like a shift in her chest, like a floodgate cracking open.

Suddenly, the air was gone. Her lungs tightened, her vision blurred. She was back in the kitchen, back against the fridge, Liam’s hands on her arms—no, not Liam. Ryan.
She saw his face, his anger, felt the pain blooming across her ribs as he kicked her, again and again—
A gasp tore from her throat.
"Enya?" Dr. Hayes’ voice cut through the panic, steady but urgent. "Breathe. In through your nose, out through your mouth. That’s it. Keep going."
Enya clutched the couch cushion, fingers digging into the fabric as she tried to follow the instructions. The room swam around her.
“Focus on what’s real,” Dr. Hayes continued. “Name three things in this room.”
Enya blinked rapidly. Her heart was still hammering, but the weight on her chest began to lift.
“Uh... the plant,” she croaked. “The clock... and... the book on your desk.”
“Good.” Dr. Hayes gave her an encouraging nod. “Now two things you can touch.”
Enya curled her fingers against the cushion. “The couch,” she whispered. “And... my bracelet.”
“One thing you can hear.”
A shaky breath. “Your voice.”
Dr. Hayes smiled gently. “You’re back.”
Enya let out a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding.

A long silence stretched between them before Dr. Hayes finally spoke again. “Tell me what happened with Liam.”
Enya hesitated. “It wasn’t his fault,” she said quickly.
“I believe you. But I need you to tell me anyway.”
Enya hesitated. Her throat felt tight, as if admitting it would make it more real. But she knew why she was here. Lying—to Dr. Hayes or to herself—wouldn’t help.
“Liam sleepwalked again,” she finally admitted.
Dr. Hayes nodded, waiting for her to continue.
“It… it was different this time,” Enya said, her fingers fidgeting with the hem of her sleeve. “Usually, he just wanders. But this time, he—” She swallowed, her breath hitching. “He grabbed me.”
As soon as the words left her mouth, her chest tightened. Her body tensed, and for a split second, she was back in that moment—pressed against the fridge, Liam’s grip bruising her arms, his voice sharp and desperate.
Dr. Hayes noticed the shift instantly. “Enya,” she said softly, grounding her. “You’re safe. You’re here with me.”

Enya took a shaky breath, forcing herself to nod.
“What happened after he grabbed you?”
“He snapped out of it,” she whispered. “But… I panicked. I—I couldn’t control it. I backed away, and he saw it. He saw that I was scared of him.” Her voice broke on the last words. “And he looked so hurt.”
Dr. Hayes let a beat of silence pass before asking, “Why do you think that moment is affecting you so much?”
Enya knew the answer, but saying it out loud felt like admitting something shameful. “Because it wasn’t his fault.”
Dr. Hayes tilted her head slightly. “And?”
Enya clenched her jaw. “And I still reacted like it was. Like he was the threat.”
A tear slipped down her cheek. “I don’t want to be scared of him.”
Dr. Hayes leaned forward slightly, her voice unwavering. “Enya, listen to me. Trauma isn’t logical. Your mind knows Liam wouldn’t hurt you. But your body remembers fear. It reacts before you can think.”

Enya exhaled shakily, pressing the heel of her palm against her eye. “Then how do I stop it?”
“By reminding yourself that you already have.”
Enya blinked at her.
Dr. Hayes smiled softly. “You’ve faced worse than this before. You’ve rebuilt your life. You didn’t let your past define you. And now, even after last night, you came here to talk about it. That is strength, Enya.”
Enya swallowed hard, something shifting in her chest. She had survived worse. And she was here, wasn’t she?
Dr. Hayes let her sit with that realization for a moment before continuing. “I want you to try something.”
Enya straightened slightly. “What?”
“Tonight, or tomorrow—whenever it feels right—I want you to share a moment with Liam that isn’t about fear. It doesn’t have to be big. Maybe you sit with him and talk. Maybe you touch his hand. Something small, but intentional. Not because you feel guilty, but because you want to.”
Enya’s throat tightened. “What if I can’t?”
Dr. Hayes smiled knowingly. “Then we’ll try again.”
And for the first time since she had walked in, Enya felt like maybe—just maybe—she could.

**

Liam sat on the familiar couch in Dr. Carter’s office, his fingers gripping the edge of his hoodie sleeves. He felt restless, his knee bouncing, his chest tight. He hadn’t even slept since last night—how could he, after what he’d done?
Dr. Carter watched him carefully, leaning back in his chair. “You said it was urgent.”
Liam exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair. “Yeah.” His voice was rough. “I— I fucked up, Doc.”
Dr. Carter didn’t react, didn’t rush him. Just waited.
Liam swallowed, his throat dry. “I sleepwalked again. But this time… it wasn’t just walking.” His jaw tightened. “I grabbed Enya.”
Dr. Carter’s expression didn’t change, but Liam could see the way his focus sharpened. “Tell me exactly what happened.”
Liam hesitated, but then he forced himself to go through it—every detail, from waking up to the way Enya had recoiled from him. The way she had looked at him.
When he finished, Dr. Carter stayed quiet for a moment. Then he asked, “Liam, do you trust yourself?”

Liam’s stomach twisted. His mouth opened—
Nothing came out.
Dr. Carter sighed. “That’s what I thought.” He leaned forward, resting his forearms on his desk. “I need you to listen carefully, alright?”
Liam nodded stiffly.
“Your reaction makes sense. What happened last night was terrifying for both of you. But let’s get one thing straight—you are not your disorder.”
Liam let out a bitter laugh. “Tell that to Enya.”
Dr. Carter gave him a pointed look. “I am telling you. And you need to believe it before she can.”
Liam clenched his jaw. He wanted to believe it. But the image of Enya flinching away from him wouldn’t leave his head.
Dr. Carter let that sit for a moment before shifting gears. “Now—let’s talk about your medication.”
Liam frowned. “What about it?”

Dr. Carter tapped a pen against his desk. “I think we found the culprit.”
Liam’s pulse spiked. “What?”
“Your current prescription—Zolpidem—it’s known to cause parasomnia episodes in some patients.”
Liam’s head snapped up. “Wait—you mean—this is what’s making me sleepwalk?”
Dr. Carter nodded. “It’s very likely. Which is why we’re stopping it. Immediately.”
Liam exhaled sharply, shaking his head. “Fuck.”
“Instead, I’m putting you on benzodiazepines.” Dr. Carter slid a prescription across the desk. “They’ll help you sleep without the risk of sleepwalking. But—” He paused, giving Liam a serious look. “There's a catch.”
Liam snorted. “There’s always a catch.”
Dr. Carter didn’t argue. “You’re going to experience a rebound effect from stopping Zolpidem. Insomnia, heightened anxiety—”
Liam groaned. “Fantastic.”
“—and, most likely, your nightmares will come back with a vengeance.”

Liam stared at him, his stomach sinking. His fingers tightened around the paper. “So, what—you’re trading one problem for another?”
Dr. Carter didn’t flinch. “I’m trading a dangerous problem for a manageable one.”
Liam let out a harsh breath, leaning back against the couch. “So, every night, I get to watch that shit play in my head again?”
Dr. Carter nodded. “Yes. But nightmares are better than what happened last night. Right?”
Liam clenched his jaw. His grip on the prescription tightened. His heartbeat pounded in his ears.
And after a long moment, he finally muttered, “Yeah.”

**

Enya sat in her car, fingers clenched around the steering wheel. Her breathing was steady, controlled—but inside, her mind was a storm. Dr. Hayes had given her good advice, had helped her see things more clearly. But clarity didn’t make the weight in her chest any lighter.
She knew she had to face Liam eventually. She knew she couldn’t avoid him forever.
But what if things between them never felt the same again?
She closed her eyes, leaning her forehead against the steering wheel. The silence in the car felt suffocating. She exhaled shakily and forced herself to move.
It was time to go home.

Liam sat at the kitchen table, his fingers curled loosely around a mug of coffee that had long gone cold. He hadn’t taken a single sip. He just stared at it, lost in thought.
Dr. Carter’s words lingered in his mind, an echo he couldn’t shake.
Can you still trust yourself?
Liam swallowed hard. He still didn’t have an answer.
His hand tightened around the handle of the cup, as if grounding himself to something solid. He heard the front door open but didn’t look up right away. He knew it was her.

Enya stepped inside, hesitating just beyond the doorway. Liam finally lifted his head, their eyes meeting for the first time since that morning.
Neither of them spoke.
But in the heavy silence between them, there was something unspoken. An understanding.
They had both gone to therapy. They were both trying.
After a long moment, Liam broke the silence. His voice was rough but steady.
"Dr. Carter says I need to learn to trust myself."
Enya’s lips parted slightly, and she nodded. Then, just as softly, she said, "Dr. Hayes says I can’t keep running from my fears."
Another silence. But this time, it wasn’t as heavy.
Liam exhaled, rubbing a hand over his face. Enya hesitated, then took a small step closer.
Not much. Just enough.
Enough for him to notice.

He swallowed, watching her cautiously, like he wasn’t sure if she’d pull away again.
Enya didn’t. Instead, after a long pause, she slowly reached out, fingers brushing against his.
Liam froze. His breath caught.
His first instinct was to pull away—to protect her, to protect himself. But something in Enya’s eyes stopped him.
So he let her hand rest against his. And after a long, tense moment, his fingers curled gently around hers.
No words were needed.
This was enough. For now.

The moment was broken by an impatient huff.
Gremlin sat beside them, staring up with his big, round eyes, tail thumping against the floor. He let out a small, demanding huff again, then trotted to the door, looking back expectantly.
Liam huffed out a soft laugh. "Guess someone needs to take a piss," he murmured, pushing back from the table.
Enya didn’t move at first. She watched as Liam grabbed Gremlin’s leash, clipped it onto the dog’s collar, and moved toward the door.
Then, just as he was about to leave, she stood.
"I’ll come with you," she said quietly.
Liam blinked, clearly surprised, but he didn’t question it. He just gave a small nod, holding the door open for her.
Outside, the night air was crisp and cool. Their footsteps crunched against the pavement, Gremlin trotting a few steps ahead with his tail wagging lazily.
At first, they walked in silence.
But then, Liam spoke.

"Dr. Carter changed my meds."
Enya glanced at him, waiting.
"The ones I took before—he thinks they were making the sleepwalking worse. So I have to stop taking them. He’s giving me something else instead."
"Something else?"
"Benzos. Should help me sleep. But…" He hesitated, exhaling slowly. "The nightmares will probably get worse before they get better. And until the old meds are out of my system completely… things might still be bad."
Enya frowned, concern flickering across her face. "Bad how?"
Liam didn’t answer right away.
"Carter said I should warn you. In case…" He trailed off, his jaw tightening. "In case I do something again."
His voice was barely a whisper now. He swallowed hard, staring straight ahead.
"I don’t want to hurt you, Ny."

Enya’s chest tightened. She didn’t know what to say to that—not yet. But something in the way Liam looked at her, so open, so raw, made her feel a little safer.
So, after a moment, she did something she did what Dr. Hayes advised her.
She reached for his hand.
Liam stiffened as her fingers curled around his, but this time, he didn’t pull away.
Instead, he squeezed back.
And together, they walked through the quiet park, Gremlin leading the way.

Chapter Text

After their walk, they returned home in silence. The air between them felt different now—not as suffocating as before, but still laced with uncertainty. Gremlin, blissfully unaware of the heavy conversation they just had, trotted inside, lapped up some water, and flopped down onto his bed with a content sigh.
Enya watched him for a moment, envying the dog’s ability to simply exist without overthinking every little thing. Then she looked at Liam. He was standing in the middle of the room, rubbing the back of his neck, clearly caught in his own head.
They needed to talk. Really talk.
Liam seemed to realize it at the same time. He gestured toward the couch. “Let’s sit,” he said, his voice rough with exhaustion.
Enya nodded, moving toward the couch, but she hesitated before sitting down. She still felt restless, on edge. But avoiding this conversation wouldn’t make anything better. With a deep breath, she finally lowered herself onto one end of the couch. Liam sat on the other.
The space between them felt intentional. Not cold, not distant—just careful.

Liam exhaled and ran both hands down his face before resting his elbows on his knees. “We need to figure out what to do,” he said, his voice steady but heavy. “I can’t risk this happening again.”
Enya swallowed hard, rubbing her hands over her jeans. “I know,” she murmured. “But how do we stop it?”
Liam leaned back against the couch, staring up at the ceiling as if it might hold the answers. Then he said, “I could lock my door at night.”
Enya frowned immediately. “What?”
“If my door’s locked, I can’t get out,” he explained. “That way, if I sleepwalk, I won’t—” He cut himself off, jaw tightening as he swallowed the rest of the sentence. I won’t hurt you again.
But Enya heard it anyway.
She shook her head. “No.”
Liam looked at her, confused by the firmness in her voice. “Why not?”

“Because if something happens, I won’t be able to help you.” Her tone was just as firm as before, but there was an underlying urgency now. “What if you wake up in the middle of a panic attack? What if you get stuck in one of your nightmares and can’t snap out of it? What if something else goes wrong? You don’t need to be locked away, Liam.”
She hesitated for a second, but then she forced herself to say the next words. “You need to know that you’re not alone in this.”
Liam flinched, his gaze dropping to the floor.
That hit too close.
He had spent so much of his life trying to handle things on his own, trying to be strong enough, trying not to be a burden. But here she was, telling him that locking himself away wasn’t the answer. That pushing her out wouldn’t solve anything.
And worse—she was right.

His throat felt tight when he finally managed, “So what then?”
Enya took a slow, measured breath. “If it happens again, I’ll keep my distance, but I won’t leave you alone. I’ll try to wake you up safely—maybe by calling your name or making noise. Something that doesn’t put me at risk but also doesn’t leave you trapped in that state.”
Liam pressed his lips into a thin line, his fingers curling into a fist on his knee. “You shouldn’t have to deal with this,” he muttered.
Enya tilted her head slightly. “Maybe not,” she admitted. “But I am.”
That made him look up. Her expression was calm, steady—not forced, not pretending that everything was fine, but real.
A lump formed in his throat. He cleared it, nodding stiffly. “Alright.”
They sat there for a moment, letting the weight of the conversation settle. It wasn’t a perfect plan, not a solution that would fix everything overnight. But it was something.
A step forward.
And for now, that was enough.

**

For two nights, their plan worked.
Liam had his nightmares, but Enya followed their agreement—keeping her distance, calling his name gently, trying to wake him in a way that wouldn’t put her at risk. And for two nights, it was enough.
Until it wasn’t.
On the third night, the nightmare was worse.
Liam thrashed in his sleep, gasping for air, fists clenched so tightly the veins in his arms stood out. His breathing came in sharp, ragged bursts, his body drenched in sweat. He was trapped, lost in some hellish corner of his mind, and no matter how many times Enya called his name, he wouldn’t wake up.
She could only watch.
Watch as his face twisted in agony. Watch as he whimpered, choked, pleaded with something that wasn’t real.
She felt utterly helpless.
Her own chest tightened, her breath came in short, shallow gasps. The room felt smaller, suffocating, as if she were the one drowning this time. Her hands trembled at her sides, curling into fists as she fought against the overwhelming panic rising in her throat.
I can’t do this.
Her vision blurred, her heartbeat pounded in her ears.

Somewhere in the distance, Liam gasped violently and shot upright, his entire body shaking. His eyes darted wildly around the room, his breath still coming in harsh, uneven gulps.
He was awake.
But Enya was already gone.
Liam barely registered the damp sheets sticking to his skin or the way his pulse hammered in his skull. One thought cut through the haze: Where is she?
Frantic, he shoved the blankets aside and stumbled out of bed, his legs barely holding him up. “Enya?” His voice was hoarse, rough with exhaustion and fear.
No answer.
He searched the bedroom. The hallway. The kitchen. The bathroom.
Nothing.
His mind spiraled, dragging him into a pit of worst-case scenarios. What if I hurt her? What if I did something in my sleep? What if she ran because she’s afraid of me?
The thought was enough to send his pulse into overdrive, his breath turning sharp and erratic. His chest ached, his fingers tingled, his vision narrowed.
No, no, no—

He stumbled toward the terrace door and threw it open, sucking in the cold night air like a drowning man breaking the surface. The world tilted for a moment, but he forced himself to focus.
And then he heard it.
A soft, uneven breath.
Liam turned his head, and there she was.
Enya sat on the ground, her back against the house, her knees drawn to her chest. Gremlin was pressed tightly against her side, his head resting on her lap as if he were trying to keep her grounded.
She was barefoot. The stone beneath her had to be freezing.
Guilt hit Liam like a freight train.
“Enya,” he said, his voice quieter this time. He didn’t move any closer. He had learned his lesson by now.
She flinched slightly but lifted her head to look at him.

He swallowed the lump in his throat. “I’m awake. It’s over,” he told her. “Come inside. It’s too cold out here.”
She didn’t answer right away. For a long moment, she just sat there, staring at him with something unreadable in her eyes.
Then she nodded.
Slowly, carefully, she got to her feet.
Liam let out a quiet breath of relief, stepping back to give her space. But just as she reached the door, she stopped.
“I can’t do this alone,” she murmured. Her voice was quiet but steady. “Maybe… maybe Lexy and Daniel could come over. Help us.”
Liam hesitated. Not because he didn’t want help, but because he hadn’t considered the idea before. Bringing others into this mess? Letting them see how bad things had gotten?
But then he looked at Enya again—saw the exhaustion, the weight of everything pressing down on her shoulders.
And he realized she wasn’t just asking for his sake.
She needed them too.
Liam exhaled slowly and nodded. “Yeah,” he said. “That… that might actually be a good idea.”
For the first time that night, Enya looked like she could breathe again.

**

Lexy had been beyond worried when Enya called her.
The second she heard the strain in Enya’s voice—the way she hesitated before explaining everything—Lexy knew something was very, very wrong. And when the whole story finally spilled out, her stomach twisted into knots.
Liam had been struggling for weeks. Weeks.
With terrifying nightmares. With sleepwalking episodes that had almost gotten someone hurt. With a burden so heavy, he had somehow decided to carry it alone. And not once—not a single goddamn time—had he thought to tell her.
Lexy clenched her jaw.
She understood that Liam had always been the type to bottle things up, but still… she was his sister. He should have trusted her.

Instead, she was only being called now. When things had spiraled too far. When they had no other choice but to involve her. And it wasn’t even Liam who had asked for her help—it was Enya. His "friends with benefits."
The thought left a bitter taste in her mouth.
She felt used. Overlooked.
Like an afterthought in her own brother’s life.
But she didn’t let it show.
She never would.
On the outside, she was the worried sister—the one who, of course, would do whatever it took to help Liam and Enya through this mess. The one who showed up without hesitation, dragging Daniel along because she knew there was no way in hell she could do this alone.

And surprisingly, their plan worked.
For the next few nights, Lexy and Daniel stayed with them.
When Liam had a nightmare, Lexy was there. She could shake him awake, murmur his name until he surfaced from the depths of whatever hell his mind had trapped him in.
And when he sleepwalked, Daniel was the one to step in. His presence was steady, grounding. His voice calm, reassuring. If Liam tried to push past him, Daniel simply blocked his way. Firm, but careful.
One night, however, things escalated.
Liam, lost in his dream state, lunged at Daniel—his movements eerily fast, his grip desperate. But Daniel was bigger, stronger. He caught Liam’s wrists midair, held them steady, and spoke to him in that same level voice.
“It’s alright, mate,” he murmured. “You’re safe. It’s just a dream. Come back now.”
Liam’s breathing hitched, his muscles tensed—then, finally, his body sagged. His eyes blinked open, heavy with exhaustion.

And after that, something shifted.
His nightmares became less intense. The sleepwalking episodes nearly stopped. Little by little, the weight on all their shoulders began to lift.
For the first time in weeks, it felt like things were getting better.
But the peace didn’t last.
Because on the night Jayden and Michael returned from their trip—everything fell apart.

**

The evening felt almost normal.
For the first time in what felt like forever, there was no looming tension, no underlying fear. Just laughter, lighthearted teasing, and the comfortable presence of people who cared about each other.
Liam and Daniel were gaming again, their eyes glued to the screen, fingers moving quickly over their controllers. They were lost in their usual friendly rivalry, cursing at each other and celebrating victories with over-the-top gloating. Meanwhile, Enya and Lexy were on the floor with Gremlin, tossing his favorite toy back and forth as he excitedly bounded between them.
"You have no idea how happy I am that Jayden's finally coming back tonight," Enya sighed, scratching Gremlin behind his ears. "I missed him so much."
Lexy smirked. "Ugh. Please. Spare me your lovesick nonsense." She pretended to gag, earning a playful shove from Enya.
"Shut up," Enya laughed. "You just don't understand."
"Oh, trust me, I understand perfectly." Lexy gave her a pointed look. "You’re obsessed. It’s disgusting."

Enya rolled her eyes but smiled nonetheless.
Lexy leaned back on her hands, stretching lazily. "Still, I am looking forward to Mikey getting home too. Finally, someone who actually knows how to cook."
She turned her head toward Daniel, a mischievous grin on her lips.
Daniel, without looking away from the screen, casually picked up a nearby pillow and tossed it at her. "I never said I could cook, alright?"
Lexy burst out laughing, dodging the pillow effortlessly. "Yeah, yeah. Excuses."
She didn’t say it out loud, but of course, her excitement about Michael coming home had very little to do with food. It had been weeks since she last saw him, weeks since they had touched, since they had been together. But obviously, she couldn’t just admit that—not with Liam sitting just a few feet away.

So instead, she focused on cracking dirty jokes and teasing Enya about her hopeless romantic tendencies, enjoying the way she blushed and swatted at her.
The night wore on, the atmosphere staying warm and light. It was well past midnight when Daniel stretched and spoke up, "You know… we could roll a joint while we wait for Jay and Mikey. Kill some time."
Lexy’s eyes lit up. "Now that is a brilliant idea."
Liam, however, shook his head. "You guys go ahead, but do it outside, yeah? I don’t know how that stuff interacts with my meds, and I’d rather not find out."
Both Lexy and Daniel nodded immediately. They understood.
"No problem, mate," Daniel assured him. "We’ll be back in a bit."

With that, the two of them disappeared into the backyard, leaving Enya and Liam alone in the dimly lit living room.
Enya plopped down beside Liam on the couch, glancing at him. He looked like he was about to fall asleep at any second, his posture slouched, his eyes heavy.
"Hey," she said softly.
Liam blinked his eyes open, sluggish and unfocused. "Hmm?"
"How are you feeling?"
A small, tired smile tugged at his lips. "Better." He reached for her hand and placed it on his thigh, giving it a gentle squeeze. "Bringing Lex and Danny here was a good idea."
Enya nodded, leaning her head against his shoulder. She could feel her own exhaustion catching up to her, her eyelids growing heavier by the second.
Just five minutes… she thought sleepily. Just... resting my eyes for five minutes…
And with that, she drifted off.

**

The drive home from the airport was quiet, the hum of the engine and the occasional streetlight flashing by the only things breaking the silence.
Jayden was slouched in the passenger seat, head resting against the window, his eyes half-lidded with exhaustion.
“I swear to God,” he muttered, voice raspy from days of too much talking and too little sleep, “if I don’t sleep at least twelve hours straight, I might actually die.”
Michael snorted, his fingers tapping against the steering wheel. “Yeah, well, good luck with that. Knowing our lot, we’ll get, what… four hours before someone wakes us up with some dumb shit?”
Jay sighed dramatically. “You’re probably right.”
They had been in L.A. For over two weeks, handling business, networking, dealing with their label. It had been productive but exhausting, and all Jayden wanted was to finally be home. More specifically—to see her.

His lips twitched into a tired smile. “At least Enya’ll be there,” he said, voice softer now. “I missed her.”
Michael glanced at him sideways, smirking. “Yeah, no shit. You’ve only mentioned her about twenty times today.”
Jayden rolled his eyes but didn’t deny it. He had missed her. The thought of walking through that door and finding her there, of curling up beside her, of feeling her warmth after days of cold hotel sheets—it was the only thing keeping him upright at this point.
Michael, meanwhile, stretched his neck and groaned. “I just want a decent meal, man. Something that’s not overpriced room service or airport food.”
Jayden chuckled. “So, what I’m hearing is… you missed Lexy?”
Michael scoffed, drumming his fingers against the wheel. “Tch. Sure. Because she’s such a fucking gourmet chef.”
Jay smirked, eyes drifting shut. “Uh-huh. Whatever you say, Mikey.”
They drove the rest of the way in comfortable silence, the familiar streets of home appearing around them. Jayden’s heart picked up a little as they turned onto their street. He pictured the scene already—Enya curled up on the couch, half-asleep, maybe waiting up for him. The others probably scattered around, playing games, talking, just being home.
It was a good thought.
A comforting one.
And it was about to be completely shattered.

Because the second Michael pulled into the driveway, they both knew something was off.
The house was dark. Too dark.
No lights in the windows. No sounds of laughter or conversation.
And when they stepped inside, Gremlin was the only one there—whining, pacing, completely frantic.
The exhaustion that had weighed on them just minutes ago evaporated instantly, replaced by a creeping sense of unease.
Something was wrong.
Michael was the first to speak, his voice low.
“Jay… where the fuck is everybody?”
Michael frowned. That’s weird. Gremlin was usually a happy little menace, always eager to demand belly rubs or sneak a lick at their hands. But now he seemed distressed, pacing anxiously as if trying to lead them somewhere.

Jayden gave Michael a look. “That’s not normal.”
Michael exhaled sharply, dropping his bags. “Yeah, no shit.”
They both moved deeper into the house, their senses on high alert.
“Lex? Danny?” Michael called. No answer.
Jayden tried next. “Enya? Liam?”
Silence.
Michael’s unease grew with every step. Maybe they’re out? But that didn’t make sense. Enya wouldn’t just leave Gremlin alone this late at night, and Liam—Liam didn’t go anywhere without his phone.
Jayden checked the kitchen, the bedrooms. Michael moved through the hall, glancing into every room as he passed. The TV in the living room was still on, a black screen reflecting their worried faces. And then—
A vibration against the wooden coffee table.

Michael turned his head sharply, eyes narrowing as he realized what it was. Two phones. Enya’s and Liam’s, lying there, untouched. At the same moment, Jayden came back from the kitchen, his expression tense.
“They’re not here,” he muttered. “Where the fuck did they go without their phones?”
Michael didn’t like the answer forming in his mind.
Without another word, he pulled out his own phone and dialed Lexy. The line rang. And rang. And rang.
His heartbeat quickened.
Come on, Lex, pick up.
Jayden, now equally on edge, tried Daniel while Michael tried again with Lexy. At least the two apparently had their cell phones with them.
“Fuck,” Jayden breathed, rubbing a hand down his face. “Mike, what the hell is going on?”
Michael didn’t have an answer. His gut was twisting into knots, his fingers tightening around his phone as he hit redial.
This time, Lexy picked up.

Michael’s relief lasted a fraction of a second before he heard her voice.
She sounded… wrong.
Breathless. Shaky.
Like she’d been crying.
“Lex?” Michael demanded. “What’s going on? Where the fuck are you guys?”
There was a pause. Just a second too long.
Then, in a voice so drained and exhausted it sent ice through his veins, Lexy whispered, “Michael… you and Jay need to get to the hospital. Now.”
And then she hung up.
Michael’s hand slowly dropped from his ear.
Jayden was already staring at him, having caught enough of the conversation to know something was very, very wrong.
“Hospital?” he repeated, his voice barely above a whisper.
Michael swallowed hard. His mouth was dry.
“Get in the fucking car.”
And with that, they ran.

Chapter Text

Liam's POV

Liam woke up in a world that wasn’t his own.
His heart pounded. A cold shiver ran down his spine as he looked around. The kitchen before him was strangely familiar yet entirely foreign. The air was thick, heavy, tainted with a sickly-sweet, rotting scent. The floor beneath him felt like ice—stone, though he knew it should be wooden planks. The room was bathed in a deep, reddish glow, emanating from a source he couldn't place. It was as if everything around him was burning—not with fire, but with something far worse.
And then he saw her.
Enya lay slumped over the kitchen table. Her long hair cascaded down like a curtain, hiding her face, her arms limp at her sides.
A cold fist clenched around his heart.
Was she…?

He tried to move toward her, but his legs refused to obey. He was stuck, frozen in place, bound by an invisible force. His breath came in shallow gasps, his fingers twitched, but no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t even turn his head.
Then he heard it.
Laughter.
A mocking, deranged laugh that made his blood run cold.
“Hello, Liam.”
The voice was almost melodic, playful. Too familiar.
Ryan.
A tremor ran through his body.
“Ready for our grand finale?”
Liam’s chest tightened. “What does that mean?” His voice was hoarse, like he hadn’t used it in days.
Ryan didn’t answer right away. Instead, he stepped into view—right behind Enya. His grin was wide, exaggerated, insane. And then… he ran his fingers over her waist, trailing them slowly down her body.

Disgust and blind rage crashed over Liam like a tidal wave.
“Don’t you fucking touch her, you sick bastard!” He struggled against the invisible chains holding him in place. Useless.
Ryan chuckled. “Or what? You can’t even move.” His voice dropped into a low whisper, slithering through the air like poison. “And neither can she. Let me have my fun with her one last time.”
Liam saw red.
“No, no, no!” he screamed inside his head. He yanked at the chains binding him, fought against the paralysis gripping his limbs. His muscles trembled, his blood burned. Then—with sheer, desperate force—he took a step.
Another.
And then he was running.

He tackled Ryan, slammed him to the ground, his fingers wrapping around his throat.
“I’ll fucking kill you, you piece of shit!”
He squeezed. Harder. Harder.
But Ryan only laughed.
Liam blinked—and suddenly, Ryan was beside him. Standing. Smirking.
„I have you exactly where I want you. You'll finish this for me.“ he whispered smugly.
“I-I…” Liam looked down. His hands… They were still gripping someone’s throat. But it wasn’t Ryan’s.
His breath hitched.
His gaze locked onto wide, terrified eyes.
Eyes filled with fear.
Eyes filled with betrayal.
Eyes filled with death.
Enya.
“No!” Liam gasped. His hands wouldn’t listen. They kept squeezing, crushing the life from her. “No! Stop! Stop!”
Then—force.

Something ripped him backward, throwing him to the ground. Pain exploded through his body.
Darkness.
And then—voices.
“What…?” His lips shaped the word, but it didn’t sound like him. Everything was hazy. His head throbbed.
A weight pressed against his chest. Someone was pinning him down.
Daniel.
But why…?
The pounding in his skull grew louder. And then—another voice.
“Breathe! Enya, breathe! Come on!”
Lexy.
Enya.
Oh God.

He tried to sit up, but Daniel pressed him down harder.
“Let me…” he whispered, but his body felt heavy, his limbs numb.
His sister’s voice trembled, filled with desperation.
“Please! Enya, wake up!”
But Enya made no sound.
And Liam's world stopped spinning.

Enya's POV

Something was wrong.
Even in the haze of sleep, her body knew. It started as a whisper of discomfort, an instinctual alarm ringing deep in her subconscious.
Then—pressure.
A crushing weight around her throat.
Her eyes flew open, but her vision swam, the world shifting in and out of focus. Shadows danced in the dim light. Something heavy pressed down on her chest.
She tried to inhale.
Nothing.
Panic slammed into her like ice water to the face. Every nerve in her body screamed BREATHE! but the air wouldn’t come.
She reached up, clawing at the source of the pressure. Hands.
Large, strong hands—Liam’s hands.
Her thoughts scattered like broken glass.
Liam?

It didn’t make sense. He was holding her down, his fingers digging into the delicate skin of her throat, cutting off every last bit of air. His face was twisted, unrecognizable—eyes wide and distant, like he wasn’t really there.
She thrashed, her nails raking over his arms, his wrists, trying to pry him off.
Nothing.
He didn’t even flinch.
Her lungs burned. Fire spread through her chest, every fiber of her being begging for oxygen. Her heart pounded against her ribs, a frantic rhythm of terror.
She tried to scream. Nothing but a choked, gurgling sound escaped her lips.
The edges of her vision blurred.
Her strength was draining.
No, no, no—this wasn’t real. This wasn’t happening. Liam wouldn’t—he couldn’t.
But he was.
And he wasn’t stopping.

Her body was starting to betray her. Her arms, once clawing and fighting, grew weak. Her fingers slipped from his wrists.
No. Not like this. Not by Liam’s hands.
Summoning every last ounce of strength, she drove her knee up, slamming it into his ribs.
A hit like that should have made him recoil, made him loosen his grip—something.
But he didn’t move.
Didn’t react.
Tears welled in her eyes, mixing with the spots of darkness creeping in. The room was spinning, fading, slipping away.
Breathe. Please. I just need to breathe…
Somewhere, in the depths of her fogging mind, Jayden’s voice called to her.
“Have you been waiting long for me?”

The words wrapped around her, warm and safe, a distant memory slipping through her grasp. She tried to hold onto it, to cling to his voice, to his presence.
Jayden…
Her lips parted, but no sound came out.
The fire in her lungs was gone now.
Everything felt far away.
Weightless.
A strange, eerie calm settled over her as the darkness swallowed her whole.
The last thing she saw was Liam’s face—his vacant, haunted eyes.
And then—
Nothing.

Lexy's POV

Lexy sat on the terrace steps, the joint lazily balanced between her fingers as she exhaled a slow stream of smoke into the night air. The world felt distant, softened by the high, yet her mind was unusually sharp—perhaps because of the conversation she was having with Danny.
"You ever think about how... fragile shit is?" she murmured, watching the ember at the tip of the joint pulse as she took another drag.
Danny, leaning back against the railing, chuckled. "That’s some real stoner talk right there."
"I'm serious," she said, turning to look at him. "One second everything’s fine, and then—bam! Life just decides to fuck you over."
Danny raised an eyebrow. "Damn, Lex. That’s dark."
Lexy huffed a small laugh, shaking her head. "Just saying. We take shit for granted. Like, we assume we’re all gonna wake up tomorrow, but... what if we don’t?"
Danny took a long pull from the joint, holding the smoke for a moment before exhaling. "That’s a fucked-up way to look at things."
Lexy smirked. "Maybe. But it’s the truth."
A chill ran down her spine, and for a brief second, an uneasy feeling settled in her gut. She brushed it off, pushing herself up from the steps. "I’m heading in. Get rid of the evidence, yeah?"
Danny waved her off. "Yeah, yeah, don’t worry, Mom."
She flipped him off over her shoulder and stepped inside.

The moment she crossed the threshold, something felt... off.
The air was thick. Heavy. A strange silence hung in the room, the kind that made her skin prickle.
And then she saw it.
At first, her brain refused to process what her eyes were seeing. Liam. Sitting on top of Enya. His hands locked around her throat.
Enya wasn't moving.
Lexy’s body froze. Her mind screamed at her to react, but it was like she was underwater, everything happening in slow motion.
No. No, this couldn’t be real.
"Liam?" Her voice barely came out.
Liam didn’t react. Didn’t even acknowledge her presence. His grip on Enya’s throat stayed firm, his body rigid, his eyes distant—like he wasn’t even there.
And Enya...
Enya was gone.
The moment that realization slammed into her, Lexy’s paralysis shattered.

"DANNY!" she shrieked, her voice raw with panic as she lunged forward, grabbing at Liam, trying to pry his hands off Enya’s neck. "GET THE FUCK OFF HER!"
She pulled. She clawed. She pushed against him with every ounce of strength she had, but he was too strong, too locked into whatever nightmare had taken over his mind.
"Liam, stop!" she sobbed, her fingers digging into his arms. "You’re killing her!"
Nothing. No response.
And Enya wasn’t fighting anymore.
No. No, no, no—
Danny burst into the room, his face twisted in confusion. "What the fuck is going on—?"
And then he saw it.
For a split second, he hesitated, his brain trying to catch up with the horror in front of him.
Then instinct took over.

Danny charged. He tackled Liam with enough force to send them both crashing to the floor, pinning him down with all his weight.
Liam gasped, dazed, but Lexy barely registered it. She was already on her knees beside Enya, her hands trembling violently as she shook her.
"Enya, wake up," she begged. "Come on, babe, wake the fuck up!"
Nothing.
No movement. No sound.
Lexy’s panic turned into desperation. She slapped Enya’s face—not hard, just enough to try and jolt her awake. "Breathe, damn it!" she screamed, her voice cracking.
Silence.
The world stood still.
And then—
A gasp.
A ragged, choking inhale as Enya’s body jerked violently, her lungs forcing in air like they’d been starved of it for too long.
Lexy nearly collapsed from the sheer relief, her entire body shaking as she watched Enya's chest rise and fall, though her eyes remained closed.
She wasn’t dead.
Not yet.
But the nightmare wasn’t over.

Lexy’s hands were shaking so badly that she couldn’t unlock her damn phone. Her fingers slipped over the screen, she tried again—wrong code. Panic clawed its way through her chest, hammering in her skull. Damn it, why wasn’t this working?
“We don’t have time! We need to get her to the hospital now!” Danny’s voice snapped her out of her trance. His tone left no room for argument.
Her eyes darted to Enya. She was still lying motionless on the couch, far too pale, far too still. Too still. A cold shiver ran down Lexy’s spine.
Danny didn’t hesitate a second longer. He carefully grabbed Enya, pulling her up. His gaze met Lexy’s, and without words, she understood what she had to do. She jumped to her feet, helping him support Enya. Together, they stumbled toward the door, her heartbeat pounding in her ears.
Then she saw him.

Liam sat on the floor, frozen in place. His hands were trembling uncontrollably, his eyes empty, staring at nothing. He looked through the world without truly seeing it. His face was deathly pale, as if he had lost all connection to reality.
Lexy hesitated. Just a fraction of a second—long enough for anger, fear, and panic to crash into each other inside her. And then, something else hit her.
Worry.
She knew how Liam treated himself when he was like this. She knew what he could do if he was left alone.
“Liam, get up.” Her voice was firm but calm. No anger, no accusations—just a clear command.
No reaction.
Gritting her teeth, Lexy knelt in front of him. She grabbed his shoulders. “Liam, for fuck’s sake, you’re coming with us.”

He blinked, his gaze shifting to her—or at least trying to. It was as if he was looking straight through her.
She didn’t let go. Her fingers dug into his hoodie. “If you stay here, you’ll do something you can’t take back.”
Behind her, Danny called her name impatiently, but she didn’t back down. “Come. Now.”
Silence. Then, slowly, Liam moved. Like a puppet with its strings cut, he got to his feet. He swayed slightly, as if he might collapse at any moment.
It didn’t matter. They had no time.
Lexy turned, helping Danny get Enya into the car. Liam followed them like a ghost. And then, they drove off—into the unknown, with an unconscious friend in the backseat and a man whose world had just shattered.

Chapter Text

Jayden and Michael jumped out of the car before it had even fully stopped. Without a second thought, they sprinted toward the hospital entrance—until Michael suddenly halted.
Daniel.
He was sitting on the ground, his back against the cold hospital wall, a half-burned cigarette trembling between his fingers. His hood was pulled over his head, his gaze fixed on the pavement. It was impossible to tell whether his hands were shaking from the cold or from sheer shock.
“Danny?” Jayden hesitated a step behind Michael, his voice uncertain, almost fearful. “Are you…? Where are the others?”
Daniel lifted his head slowly, as if it took a great effort. Under the harsh glow of the streetlights, they could see how wrecked he looked—his eyes bloodshot and glassy, his skin pale, his expression caught between confusion and guilt.

“It all happened so fast,” he muttered, the cigarette twitching between his lips. “I have no fucking clue how it got this far.”
Jayden said nothing, but his breathing quickened. His mind spiraled, grasping at every possible scenario, every outcome—all of them leading to the same horrific conclusion.
Michael, however, stayed focused. Controlled.
He crouched down to meet Daniel at eye level.
“Danny, look at me.” His voice was calm but firm. “What happened? Where are the others?”
Daniel blinked sluggishly, as if only now realizing they were standing in front of him. He swallowed hard, then motioned vaguely toward the entrance.
“They’re inside,” he murmured. “I… I had to step out to clear my head. Fuck, I’m still high as hell.” His fingers clenched around the cigarette like it was the only thing anchoring him. “I don’t know exactly what happened. When I walked in… Liam was on top of Enya, and he was…” He trailed off, swallowing thickly, unable to say it out loud.
Michael saw his jaw tighten.

“I pulled him off her, but she… she wasn’t breathing.”
His voice cracked on the last words.
Before Michael could react, he heard a sharp, choked “Fuck!” beside him—and as he turned, he barely caught a glimpse of Jayden before he took off.
Straight into the hospital.

Jayden burst into the emergency room, his chest heaving, his frantic gaze scanning the area until it landed on Lexy.
She was curled up on one of the uncomfortable plastic chairs, arms wrapped tightly around herself, face buried in her hands. Her shoulders shook violently.
The moment she saw him, she froze—just for a split second. Then, suddenly, she was on her feet, running straight into his arms.
Her fingers clutched desperately at his shirt as she broke down completely. Uncontrollable sobs wracked her body, and every ounce of emotion she had fought so hard to suppress came crashing down all at once. She gasped between her cries, her words tumbling out in a panicked, incoherent mess.
“I… I thought she was dead… I thought I lost her… I couldn’t do anything…”

Jayden stood frozen, his own heart hammering so fast he could barely breathe. But then, slowly, he wrapped his arms around Lexy, holding her close. He swayed slightly, grounding both of them, even as his own hands trembled.
“Shhh…” His voice was rough, barely above a whisper. “It’s okay… you’re not alone.”
But in his mind, only one thought repeated over and over:
Where the hell is Enya?
Jayden waited patiently, holding Lexy until her sobs began to subside. When she finally calmed down enough to catch her breath, he gently pulled back, just enough to look her in the eyes. His own were filled with barely contained fear.
“Where is Enya?” he asked, his voice tight, almost breaking.

Lexy sniffled, rubbing at her tear-streaked face as she tried to answer. “She… she and Liam are being examined. The doctor should—should come out soon.” Her voice trembled, still raw from crying.
Jayden swallowed hard and nodded, forcing himself to breathe. To stay in control. He had to.
At that moment, Michael and Daniel finally caught up, entering the waiting area. The second Michael spotted Lexy, he didn’t hesitate. He crossed the space in two quick strides and wrapped her in his arms, holding her tightly. Lexy melted into his embrace, clinging to him like a lifeline.
Jayden watched as they sat down together on the row of uncomfortable hospital chairs, Michael keeping Lexy close. The exhaustion, the worry, the weight of everything pressed down on them all.
Michael’s voice was calm but firm when he finally spoke. “Lex, can you tell us what happened?”

Lexy let out a shaky breath, wiping at her face again as she tried to collect herself. “It was just a normal night,” she started quietly. “Danny and Liam were playing games… Enya and I were talking…” She sniffled. “Then Danny suggested we go outside for a joint.”
She paused, her throat tightening.
Michael gave her a reassuring squeeze. “Take your time.”
Lexy exhaled shakily before continuing. “We were outside for a while. Just talking. Nothing seemed wrong.” Her voice cracked as she got to the next part. “When I came back in, it was already too late.” A fresh wave of tears welled in her eyes. “Liam was on top of her. His hands were around her throat, and she—” Her voice broke completely.
Michael held her tighter as she crumbled against him again, whispering reassurances that barely reached her ears.
A heavy, suffocating silence settled over them all.
They waited.
Waited for someone—anyone—to come out and tell them how Enya was.

**

Liam stepped out of the examination room, his movements sluggish, as if he were wading through thick, invisible tar. His chest ached—not from any physical injury, but from the crushing weight inside him. The fluorescent lights of the hospital corridor were too bright, too harsh, exposing every raw, jagged edge of his guilt.
A doctor was speaking to him, but the words barely registered. Something about monitoring his condition, something about shock. It didn’t matter. None of it mattered.
Because he had nearly killed Enya.
His feet moved on autopilot, dragging him forward, until his eyes lifted—and then he saw him.
Jayden.
Sitting in the waiting area, his body tense, hands clenched into fists against his knees. Next to him, Michael and Daniel sat in stiff silence, and Lexy, still visibly shaken, was curled into Michael’s side. But Liam barely noticed them. His gaze locked onto Jayden, and his breath hitched.
Jayden stood, slowly.

The expression on his face wasn’t rage, wasn’t fury—not yet. It was something worse. A deep, cutting pain laced with disbelief. His jaw was clenched so tightly Liam thought he might break his own teeth. And his eyes—fuck, his eyes. There was something in them that made Liam’s stomach churn violently.
It wasn’t just anger. It was disappointment.
Liam’s pulse roared in his ears. He wanted to run. Wanted to turn on his heel and disappear. He didn’t deserve to be here. Didn’t deserve to breathe the same air as them.
Jayden took a step closer.
“Liam.”
His name, spoken in that rough, broken tone, was like a blade to the gut.
Liam’s throat tightened. He tried to swallow, but it was useless. His body felt like it was shutting down, the guilt pressing down on his ribs until he could barely inhale.
“I—” The words caught. He didn’t even know what he wanted to say. There were no words for this.
Lexy shifted beside Jayden, looking like she wanted to intervene, but she hesitated. Everyone was watching, waiting.
Liam’s hands clenched into fists at his sides. His nails dug into his palms so hard it hurt, but he welcomed the pain.

“I would’ve killed her,” he choked out, his voice barely above a whisper. “I— I had my hands on her, and I didn’t even—” He broke off, shaking his head violently. His breath came in short, ragged bursts. His vision blurred. “I'm just like him.” His voice wavered. “Just like Ryan.”
Michael shot up from his seat so fast it scraped against the tile floor. “Don’t you fucking say that,” he snapped, his tone sharp, dangerous.
But Liam barely heard him. His attention remained fixed on Jayden, waiting—praying—for him to do something. To hit him. To tell him he was a monster. To confirm what he already knew.
But Jayden just stood there, his shoulders rising and falling with deep, controlled breaths. His hands trembled at his sides, but he didn’t move.
And that was the worst part.
The silence. The restraint.
Jayden wasn’t giving him an out. He wasn’t giving him punishment.
He was just standing there, looking at him like he was something unrecognizable. Something broken beyond repair.
Liam’s stomach twisted violently. The nausea crawled up his throat, and for a moment, he thought he might be sick right there on the hospital floor.

The silence between Jayden and Liam stretched unbearably, thick and suffocating. Jayden’s jaw was so tight it hurt, his knuckles white as he clenched and unclenched his fists. He wanted to say something, wanted to do something—but then, before the moment could break, a door down the hall swung open.
“Is someone here for Enya Davies?”
Jayden’s head snapped up so fast it made him dizzy. His heart stuttered, then pounded violently against his ribs.
“I am,” he rasped, his voice raw. Without sparing Liam another glance, he pushed past him, moving toward the doctor like a man possessed.
The others stood too, but no one tried to stop him. No one said a word.
The doctor—a middle-aged man with tired eyes—gave him a small nod before stepping aside, gesturing toward an open doorway. “She’s stable. Still unconscious, but breathing on her own.”
Jayden barely heard anything else. His legs carried him forward before his mind could even catch up.
And then he was inside.

The room was dimly lit, the rhythmic beeping of a heart monitor the only sound filling the air. His stomach twisted at the sight before him.
Enya lay motionless on the hospital bed, her face pale, her throat battered with heavy bruises. A nasal cannula supplied her with oxygen, her chest rising and falling in shallow but steady breaths.
Jayden’s breath hitched.
He had prepared himself for the worst. He had imagined scenarios so terrible that just seeing her alive, seeing her breathe, should have been a relief.
But it wasn’t.
Because this never should have happened in the first place.
His hands trembled as he stepped closer, his boots scuffing softly against the linoleum. “Ny-Ny…” The nickname left his lips in a breath, barely audible.
No response.
He swallowed hard, his throat burning. Slowly, hesitantly, he reached out, his fingers brushing against the back of her hand. Her skin was cool, too cool, and he hated it. Enya was always warm, always full of life. This wasn’t her.

Jayden sank into the chair beside her bed, his entire body feeling impossibly heavy.
“I’m here,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. “I’m right here.”
Silence.
His fingers curled around hers, holding them gently, as if afraid she might break apart if he held on too tightly. His thumb traced small, absentminded circles over her knuckles.
“I should’ve been there,” he said hoarsely. “I should’ve—” He exhaled sharply, shaking his head. His free hand raked through his hair, tugging at the roots. “Fuck, Enya, I don’t—” His voice cracked, and he had to stop, had to take a shaky breath to stop himself from losing it completely.
There was nothing he could say to make this better. No words that could undo what had happened.
So he just sat there, holding her hand, waiting.
Minutes passed. Maybe hours.
And then—
A small twitch.

Jayden jolted upright, his heart leaping into his throat.
Enya’s fingers moved, curling slightly around his own.
A weak, pained sound escaped her lips as her eyelids fluttered.
Jayden sucked in a sharp breath, gripping her hand just a little tighter.
“Ny-Ny?” His voice shook. “Can you hear me?”
A faint crease formed between her brows. Slowly, her eyes cracked open, unfocused and glassy.
For a moment, she just stared blankly. And then—
“Jay…?”
His chest caved in. A breathless, disbelieving laugh escaped him, and he pressed a trembling kiss against her knuckles. “Yeah, love. I’m here.”
A weak smile ghosted across her lips. “Knew you’d come.”
Tears burned in his eyes, but he didn’t let them fall. He just nodded, swallowing hard.
“Always.”

Jayden let out a sharp breath, blinking rapidly as he tried to keep himself together. He should say something—something reassuring, something comforting—but all that came out was a strangled, broken whisper.
“I thought I lost you.”
Enya’s eyes, still hazy with exhaustion, softened as she took in his face. She barely had the strength to keep her eyes open, let alone move, but still, she lifted her trembling fingers, brushing them weakly through his hair. The touch was barely there, a ghost of what it usually was, but it shattered something deep inside him.
“Don’t cry…” she whispered, her voice so faint he almost didn’t hear it.
He let out a choked, breathless laugh, burying his face into her touch.
“Too late,” he admitted, his voice shaking. His grip on her hand tightened as if afraid she might slip away again. “Way too late.”
Her lips twitched, the barest hint of a smile, but she was already fading again, her eyelids growing heavier by the second.
Jayden panicked.
“Hey, hey, stay with me,” he pleaded, leaning closer. “Don’t—don’t go back to sleep yet.”
Enya hummed softly, as if to reassure him, but her body was too exhausted to fight anymore. Her breathing remained steady, her fingers still tangled in his hair, but within moments, she was asleep again.
Jayden exhaled shakily, his forehead pressing against the back of her hand.
He should feel relieved that she was resting, that she was stable.
But all he felt was hollow.

**

Enya stirred slightly, her fingers twitching against Jayden’s as she slowly blinked herself back to consciousness. Jayden immediately tensed, leaning in, worried that she was in pain or struggling to breathe.
But instead, her voice came as a barely audible murmur.
“Liam…”
Jayden’s stomach twisted at the name. His jaw clenched, and something dark flickered through his eyes. He knew this wasn’t Liam’s fault, not truly. And yet, the mere mention of him sent a ripple of anger through his chest. This didn’t have to happen. It shouldn’t have happened.
Enya must have sensed the shift in his demeanor, because despite her exhaustion, she slowly moved her hand, wrapping her fingers weakly around his. Her grip was barely there, but it was enough to ground him—to make him look at her instead of drowning in his frustration.
“Jay…” Her voice was hoarse but firm in its plea. “Don’t be angry at him.”

Jayden’s throat tightened. His lips pressed into a thin line as he looked away, staring at the sterile white sheets instead. “He already feels like shit,” he admitted reluctantly. “He looks like a goddamn ghost.”
Enya nodded slightly, as if that was exactly what she’d expected to hear. She hesitated for a moment, then swallowed and met his gaze again.
“Send him in.”
Jayden tensed. “What?”
“Please,” she murmured. “I need to see him.”
Jayden looked at her like she’d just asked him to cut off his own hand. Every instinct in him screamed against it. Liam had almost killed her. How could she possibly want to see him right now?
But the way she looked at him—so gentle, so Enya—made it impossible to say no. He exhaled sharply, dragging a hand down his face before pushing himself up from the chair.
“Fine,” he muttered. “But if he upsets you, I swear to God—”
Enya’s lips curved into the faintest, tiredest smile. “He won’t.”
Jayden shook his head, grumbling under his breath as he left the room.

Just outside, Liam sat slumped forward in one of the waiting chairs, elbows resting on his knees, his head bowed. He hadn’t moved in what felt like hours. The weight of everything that had happened was pressing down on him like a physical force, leaving him utterly drained, empty.
Jayden stopped in front of him, arms crossed tightly over his chest. He swallowed back the lingering resentment curling in his gut and forced his voice to stay even.
“She wants to see you.”
Liam barely reacted at first. It took a second for the words to register. When they did, his head lifted slightly, his bloodshot eyes dull with exhaustion and guilt.
“…She what?”
Jayden sighed, rubbing his temple before nodding toward the hospital room. “You heard me.”
Liam swallowed hard, looking past Jayden toward the door, like he wasn’t sure if he was allowed to cross that threshold.
Jayden’s gaze hardened. “Don’t make her regret it.”
Liam hesitated only a second longer before he slowly pushed himself to his feet and walked toward the room, feeling like he was walking straight into judgment itself.

Liam hesitated at the door, his hand hovering over the handle like it was burning hot. His chest was so tight he could barely breathe, and for a moment, he thought about turning around, about running.
He didn’t deserve to be in there.
He didn’t deserve to look her in the eyes after what he’d done.
But she had asked for him. And that alone was enough to force his legs to move, even if every instinct screamed at him to stay away.
Slowly, he stepped inside.
The room was dimly lit, the harsh fluorescence of the hospital softened to a dull glow. Enya lay there, small and fragile against the white sheets, her face still too pale, her throat marred by bruises that stood out starkly against her skin. The sight of it made Liam physically sick.
His feet felt like lead as he took a hesitant step closer.
“I…” His voice cracked, barely more than a whisper. He cleared his throat and tried again, but the words refused to come.
Enya’s eyes fluttered open at the sound of his voice.
A tired, knowing smile touched her lips. “Liam…”
Hearing his name come from her like that—gentle, without a trace of fear—felt like a knife to the gut.

He let out a shaky breath, his hands curling into fists at his sides. He couldn’t look at her. Couldn’t look at the bruises, at the damage he had done.
“I’m so fucking sorry.” His voice broke completely this time, rough and strangled. “I don’t— I don’t know how this happened. I—” He inhaled sharply, shaking his head. “I almost killed you, Enya. And you still wanted to see me? Why?”
She sighed softly and patted the side of the bed, a silent invitation.
Liam hesitated, but eventually, his knees gave out, and he sank into the chair beside her, his hands shaking in his lap. His whole body felt cold, hollowed out by grief and guilt.
“Because you’re my friend, Liam.” Her voice was hoarse, but steady. “And I know you didn’t mean to hurt me.”
Liam flinched. He wished she would yell at him, hate him, scream that she never wanted to see him again. It would have been easier than this.
Easier than her forgiveness.
“You should hate me,” he muttered, voice barely above a whisper.
Enya tilted her head, studying him with those deep, understanding eyes. “But I don’t.”

Liam clenched his jaw, his throat working against a wave of emotion that threatened to choke him.
“I do.” He let out a bitter, humorless laugh, his fingers tightening into his jeans. “I fucking hate me.”
Enya frowned, shifting slightly. She was weak, exhausted, in pain—but still, she reached out. Her fingers brushed against his hand, hesitant at first, then firmer when he didn’t pull away.
“You should take care of yourself, Liam,” she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper. “You’re hurting too.”
He squeezed his eyes shut, shaking his head. “I don’t deserve—”
“You do.”
Liam’s eyes snapped open, wide and disbelieving.
Enya’s lips curled into the faintest, saddest smile. “You do,” she repeated, like she knew he wouldn’t believe it the first time.
He swallowed hard, his vision blurring. He hated himself. Hated what he had done. But right now, sitting here, feeling the warmth of her fingers against his own, he let himself breathe.
Just for a second.

Liam tried his best to hold it together, to keep the burning lump in his throat from turning into full-blown sobs. His fingers dug into his jeans, his nails pressing hard enough to leave marks, but it did nothing to stop the way his chest ached, how his breath shuddered with every inhale.
He had almost killed her.
And yet, here she was—offering him warmth instead of hatred, understanding instead of fear.
He blinked rapidly, trying to push back the tears, but it was no use. His vision blurred, and when he finally lifted his gaze to look at Enya, it was through a shimmering veil.
“I’m sorry,” he choked out. His voice was raw, barely a whisper, but it carried the full weight of his torment. “God, Enya, I am so sorry for what I did to you.” His whole body trembled. “I—I don’t even have the words. I don’t know how to—” He exhaled shakily, his hands balling into fists before opening again, like he didn’t know what to do with them.
Enya just watched him, her eyes soft and understanding. She nodded, just barely, as if acknowledging the storm inside him. Then, without hesitation, she reached out and took his hand in hers, her touch impossibly gentle.

“I forgive you, Liam,” she whispered.
And that was it.
That was the moment when everything inside Liam shattered.
A sharp, broken sob tore from his throat as his body curled in on itself. How? How could she forgive him? How could she look at him—after everything—and still offer kindness instead of hatred? He had taken something from her, something that could never be undone. He had left bruises on her skin, had stolen the air from her lungs, and yet…
She forgave him.
His shoulders shook violently as he broke down, his body wracked with silent, gut-wrenching sobs. He pressed his forehead against their joined hands, as if he could somehow absorb her warmth, her kindness, as if he could convince himself he wasn’t beyond saving.
“I don’t deserve it,” he gasped between shuddering breaths. “I don’t—”
“Liam.”
Her voice was quiet but firm, grounding him.
“You do.”
And with that, he let himself fall apart completely.

Chapter Text

As Liam quietly closed the door behind him, he felt like the whole situation had drained every last ounce of strength from his body. His limbs were heavy, his head throbbed, and the weight pressing down on his chest made it hard to breathe. He felt like he could collapse at any second.
He lifted his gaze—and immediately locked eyes with Jayden.
Jayden stood a few feet away, his hands buried in his pockets, his posture tense but not aggressive. He didn’t look angry. Not really. More… exhausted. Like he was fighting himself to find the right words.
Liam froze. His heart pounded painfully against his ribs.
Jayden studied him for a long moment before taking a deep breath. His voice was quiet when he finally spoke. “She asked me not to be mad at you.”
Liam’s throat tightened. He swallowed hard. “She shouldn’t have to ask,” he muttered.
Jayden’s expression didn’t change, but something in his eyes flickered. “I know.”

Silence stretched between them. Not a heavy silence, not full of anger or resentment—just a quiet space between two people who were both drowning in their own thoughts.
After what felt like an eternity, Jayden ran a hand through his hair, exhaling slowly. “How are you holding up?”
Liam let out a dry, humorless laugh. “Not great.”
Jayden nodded, as if he had expected that answer. “Yeah… me neither.”
Another pause. Then, Jayden stepped forward—not in a confrontational way, but not entirely reconciliatory either. It was just a movement, a quiet acknowledgment that they were both struggling with what had happened.
Liam hesitated before murmuring, “She wants to see you.”
Jayden exhaled deeply, his jaw tightening for a split second before he nodded. “Good.”
As he moved past Liam, he slowed just enough to rest a hand on his shoulder. It was brief, fleeting—more a sign of understanding than of forgiveness.
“Get some rest, mate.”
Liam didn’t answer. He couldn’t. He just stood there, staring at the floor, listening to Jayden’s footsteps fade into the hospital room. And as he slowly sank back against the wall, he wondered if he would ever be able to forgive himself.

Liam sat slumped against the hospital wall, drained, empty, his mind running in circles. He barely noticed when someone crouched down beside him until he heard a soft voice cutting through the haze.
“Hey,” Lexy murmured gently. “Why don’t you come with us? You should try to get some sleep.”
Liam blinked, slowly turning his head to look at her. For a moment, he seemed confused—almost like he wasn’t sure he had heard her correctly. Sleep? The idea felt foreign, impossible. But then he realized… she was right. Jayden’s house would be empty, and the thought of being alone right now was unbearable.
But as soon as he considered leaving, another thought hit him.
“Gremlin,” he muttered, his voice hoarse. His eyes widened slightly. “He’s all alone.”
Before Lexy could respond, Michael chimed in from behind them. “We’ll stop by Jay’s place and pick him up,” he said firmly. “No idea how long Jay and Enya are gonna be here, so Gremlin’s better off with us anyway.”
Liam hesitated, but exhaustion was starting to win. He gave a slow, tired nod. “Okay.”

With that settled, they helped him to his feet, and together, they walked to the car—the same one Lexy, Danny, and Liam had used to rush Enya to the hospital. The drive was quiet, almost eerily so. No one spoke. Everyone was lost in their own thoughts, the weight of the night pressing down on them. The air felt heavy, thick with unspoken emotions.
When they finally pulled up to Jayden’s house, Michael got out and disappeared inside. A few moments later, he returned with Gremlin in tow. The dog’s tail wagged frantically, and as soon as he saw Liam, he pressed himself against him, his small body warm and comforting. Liam buried his fingers in Gremlin’s fur, exhaling shakily. The little dog nuzzled against him as if he somehow understood the turmoil raging inside him.
“Good boy,” Liam murmured, his voice barely above a whisper.

The drive to Michael’s house was just as silent as before, and by the time they arrived, exhaustion had settled deep in Liam’s bones. As they stepped inside, everyone scattered, each dealing with the night in their own way. Liam, however, stood frozen in the living room, unsure of where to go or what to do. He didn’t even know if he could sleep, let alone if he should.
So he sank onto the couch instead, Gremlin curling up beside him, offering whatever comfort he could. Liam absentmindedly stroked the dog’s fur, his mind a foggy mess.
After a while, Daniel appeared in the doorway. “Come on,” he said softly. “You can crash in my room.”
Liam hesitated. “I don’t know if I can sleep,” he admitted. His voice was barely there, rough from exhaustion and something deeper—fear. “And if I do…” He swallowed hard. “What if something happens again?”
Danny didn’t waver. He simply crossed his arms and said, “Then I’ll be there. You’re not alone, mate. You don’t have to worry.”
Liam looked at him for a long moment, searching his face for any sign of doubt—but there was none.
“…Okay,” he finally murmured.

Daniel led him to his room and helped him out of his clothes, passing him something more comfortable to sleep in. Liam moved on autopilot, not even thinking, just following Danny’s lead.
When they finally lay down, Liam stared at the ceiling for what felt like hours, his body stiff, his mind racing. Sleep terrified him. The idea of slipping back into unconsciousness, of losing control again, made his stomach twist.
But exhaustion was relentless.
Eventually, his eyes grew too heavy to keep open.
And for the first time that night, Liam drifted into a deep, dreamless sleep.

**

Liam woke up with a sharp inhale, his heart pounding too fast, his hands clammy. For a few seconds, he had no idea where he was. The bed beneath him felt unfamiliar, the darkness around him suffocating. Then his gaze landed on the slightly open door and the dim light spilling in from the hallway.
It took a moment for the memories to return—
The hospital.
Enya.
The horror of last night.
His stomach twisted painfully. He had no idea how long he had slept, but the silence in the room felt heavy. Carefully, he sat up, rubbing both hands over his face, taking a slow, deep breath. Daniel was no longer there.
Moving quietly, Liam got to his feet and left the room. His footsteps echoed against the hardwood floor as he made his way toward the kitchen.
As he pushed open the door, the smell of coffee and toast hit him—an absurd trace of normalcy in a world that felt anything but.
Michael, Lexy, and Daniel were already at the table.
Daniel was the first to notice him. His eyes immediately filled with concern. "Hey, mate… how are you?"

Liam stood frozen in the doorway. The question was simple, but he had no idea how to answer it. Instead, his gaze shifted to his sister.
"Lex, can you take me to Dr. Carter?" His voice was hoarse, barely more than a whisper.
Lexy didn’t hesitate. "Yeah, of course. I'll get ready." She set down her mug, stood up, and disappeared toward the bathroom.
Daniel sat motionless for a second, then exhaled quietly and sank back into his chair. He didn’t say anything, just picked up his fork and kept eating, though it was clear that his appetite had vanished.
Michael observed everything in silence before taking a sip of his coffee. Then, after a moment, he reached out and patted Daniel’s shoulder. It wasn’t meant to be comforting—just an unspoken acknowledgment that he’d seen what had happened.
A few minutes later, Lexy and Liam left the house.
The car ride was quiet. Every now and then, Lexy glanced at him, concern written all over her face, but Liam just stared out the window, as if he was afraid of seeing himself in the reflection.
When they finally pulled up outside Dr. Carter’s office, Liam let out a slow breath.
Then, without a word, he opened the door and stepped inside.

Liam and Lexy stepped into the quiet reception area, the scent of antiseptic and old paper hanging in the air. Behind the desk, a middle-aged woman with short, graying hair and an expression that suggested she had absolutely no time for nonsense looked up from her computer.
“Do you have an appointment?” she asked, her voice flat.
Liam hesitated. “Uh… no, but—”
“No appointment, no session,” she cut him off, already looking back at her screen as if the conversation was over.
Lexy blinked. “Excuse me?”
The receptionist barely spared her a glance. “Dr. Carter’s schedule is full today. If you want, I can give you the next available slot—let’s see…” She clicked a few times, then squinted at the screen. “Next Wednesday at 2 PM.”
Lexy’s expression darkened. “Next Wednesday? Are you joking?”
The woman let out a slow breath, clearly unimpressed. “If it’s an emergency, you should go to the hospital.”

Liam clenched his jaw and took a step back, wanting nothing more than to turn around and leave. But before he could, Lexy slammed both hands onto the desk, making the receptionist flinch.
“Listen,” she snapped, voice low and dangerous. “My brother is not waiting a goddamn week. He needs to see Dr. Carter now.”
The woman narrowed her eyes. “Miss, I don’t make the rules.”
“Then go get someone who does.”
The receptionist let out a frustrated sigh. “Miss, I understand you’re upset, but causing a scene won’t change—”
“Oh, you haven’t seen a scene yet,” Lexy shot back.
The tension in the room skyrocketed. Liam shifted uncomfortably, feeling every pair of eyes in the waiting area on them. He wanted to shrink into himself, disappear into the floor, but Lexy had no such reservations. She squared her shoulders, ready for war.
And then—

A door down the hall swung open.
Dr. Carter stepped out, brow furrowed. His usual easy-going demeanor was absent, replaced by mild irritation. “Alright, alright—what’s with all the yelling?”
His gaze landed on Liam, and immediately, his expression changed.
The sharp retort he’d been about to deliver never left his mouth. Instead, his eyes swept over Liam’s pale, trembling form—the dark circles under his bloodshot eyes, the way his hands clenched into fists as if he was barely holding himself together.
In an instant, all irritation vanished.
“Shit,” Carter muttered. Then, louder: “Come on in.”
Lexy shot the receptionist a victorious look before grabbing Liam’s hand and pulling him past the desk.
Dr. Carter held the door open for them, watching as Liam hesitated for the briefest of moments before stepping inside.
Then the door shut behind them, sealing them away from the rest of the world.

Chapter Text

Dr. Carter leaned against his desk, running a hand down his face as he exhaled slowly. Then, almost imperceptibly, he shook his head.
“Jesus Christ, Liam…”
The words hung heavy in the room, stretching into a silence that spoke volumes. A silence that carried the weight of just how utterly fucked this situation was.
Liam sat hunched forward, hands clenched between his knees. He didn’t dare look up. Beside him, Lexy was tense, like she was bracing for an explosion.
Dr. Carter finally straightened, running a hand through his hair before fixing his gaze on Liam. His expression was professional, calm—but there was something else in his eyes. Something raw. Empathy. Maybe even a flicker of pain.
“Okay,” he said at last, his voice steady but firm. “What happened?”
Liam didn’t answer.

Dr. Carter could see the way his breathing quickened, how his fingers dug into the fabric of his pants. It was as if just remembering what had happened was enough to push him to the edge of a panic attack.
“I—” His voice was barely above a whisper. “I almost killed her.”
Dr. Carter went still. Just for a fraction of a second. Like Liam had punched the air from his lungs. Then, a subtle tension settled into his posture.
“Tell me everything.”
But Liam was shaking now, his eyes glassy, his entire body wound so tight it looked like he might snap in half.
“I can’t…”
Lexy didn’t even hesitate. She reached for his hand, rubbing small, soothing circles over his skin as she took over.
“He was sleepwalking again,” she said, her voice steady but tight. “And he—he attacked Enya. He strangled her until she passed out. He would have—” She cut herself off, inhaling sharply. “He would have killed her if Danny hadn’t stopped him.”

She watched as Dr. Carter’s hands curled into each other, like he had to physically stop himself from losing his composure again.
Then she shook her head, and her voice turned sharp as a blade. “He doesn’t deserve this, Dr. Carter.”
Dr. Carter leaned forward, resting his elbows on the desk as he looked between them.
“No, he doesn’t,” he said, his tone grave. “But that doesn’t mean it didn’t happen.”
Liam’s stomach twisted violently.
Dr. Carter sat back, drawing in a slow breath before speaking again, quieter this time but no less firm.
“The question is: What are we going to do about it?”

Dr. Carter took a deep breath, his fingers slowly rubbing the edge of his desk. His gaze was heavy as he looked at Liam.
"Liam, I need you to understand something." His voice was calm but piercing. "You are not safe to be around right now. Not because you want to hurt anyone, but because you have no control over what happens when you sleep."
Liam stared at him like Carter had just punched him in the gut.
"So what? You're gonna lock me up?" His voice was sharp, tense, like he was already bracing for a fight.
Dr. Carter leaned forward slightly, elbows resting on the desk.
"It’s a real possibility. There are specialized clinics for cases like yours—places that can monitor you, analyze your sleep patterns, make sure this doesn’t happen again."
The air in the room felt thinner all of a sudden. Liam’s throat tightened, his whole body going rigid.
"No," he said immediately, shaking his head, his breath quickening. "No fucking way."

Dr. Carter raised an eyebrow. "Liam—"
"I said NO!"
Liam’s voice cracked, his hands trembling. The very thought of being institutionalized sent a wave of panic crashing over him, one he couldn’t control. Flashes of white walls, locked doors, cold, indifferent faces flickered through his mind. He couldn’t go there. He couldn't end up like Lexy had.
Dr. Carter didn’t break eye contact. "Then give me a better solution."
Liam clenched his jaw, his gaze dark, but he had no answer.
"Jesus Christ, Liam, you almost killed her."
The words hit him like a sledgehammer. Liam flinched, his body curling in on itself.
"You think I don’t know that?" His voice was hoarse, raw. "You think I don’t fucking hate myself for it?"
He shot up from his chair, running a shaky hand through his hair like he was trying to claw the panic out of his own skull.
Lexy had stood up too, her whole body tense. "Liam, please—"
"No!" He took a step back like he was instinctively pulling away. "I will NOT go to some loony bin!"
His eyes were glassy, his breathing shallow. He was seconds away from falling apart.

Dr. Carter let him spiral for a moment. Then, as silence settled into the room, he leaned back in his chair.
Lexy glanced between the two men, her hands clenched into fists. She knew exactly why Liam was reacting this way. He didn’t say it, but she could feel it.
So she stepped forward. "Dr. Carter, there are reasons why he doesn't want to go to a clinic."
The therapist studied her for a moment, his sharp gaze unwavering. Then, slowly, he nodded.
"Alright," he finally said. "Then we need to find another solution. But that means strict safety measures. No sleeping alone. Locked doors. Motion sensors. Someone watching over you at night."
Liam wiped a hand over his face, his body still stiff.
"And Enya?"
Dr. Carter exhaled deeply.
"For now, you need to stay away from her."
Liam barely flinched, but the words hit him like a physical blow.
"Not as a punishment," Dr. Carter added quickly. "But she also needs time to process this. And you need time to figure out what the hell is going on in your head."
Liam stared at the floor, his jaw clenched tight. Then, after a long, painful silence, he nodded.
Lexy placed a hand on his arm, a quiet comfort in the midst of all the chaos.
Dr. Carter watched Liam carefully for a moment, then said,
"So, where will you stay?"

Liam hesitated, his hands still clenched into fists. His first instinct was to say I don’t know, because for the first time in his life, he truly didn’t.
Lexy, however, answered for him.
"With Michael," she said firmly.
Liam’s head snapped up. "Wait—"
"Mikey won't mind," she cut him off before he could protest. "You know he won't."
Dr. Carter leaned back in his chair, considering it. "Michael's the drummer in your band, right?"
Liam gave a stiff nod.
"Can he handle this?"
Lexy scoffed. "Oh, trust me, he can handle a hell of a lot more than this."
Dr. Carter held her gaze for a moment, then turned back to Liam. "And after that?"
Liam swallowed hard. "I... I don’t know."
Lexy nudged his arm. "Then we’ll find you a place. Together."

He looked at her, searching for any trace of pity, but there was none—just quiet determination.
Something in his chest loosened just a little.
His voice was barely above a whisper when he said, "Okay."
For the first time since he had woken up that morning, Liam felt like he wasn’t completely lost.
"Good," Dr. Carter said, pushing his chair back. "Then let’s figure out how to make sure you don’t hurt anyone else—including yourself."

**

As they finally arrived home, everything felt surreal. The drive back from the hospital had been quiet, draining—like someone had hit the mute button on life. Jayden carried Enya’s bag, opened the door for her, and helped her out of her jacket, his movements automatic, almost overly attentive.
"Jay, I can do that myself," Enya murmured, her voice still hoarse from the night’s events.
"I know. But let me do it anyway."
He pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead before taking her hand and leading her to the bedroom. They were both beyond exhausted, every fiber of their bodies aching for rest.
"Lie down," Jay said when he saw her rub her eyes, barely able to keep them open.
"Only if you lay down with me."
There wasn’t a moment of hesitation. As soon as Enya curled up in bed, Jayden slid in next to her, pulling her gently into his arms. His fingers traced slow, absentminded patterns over her arm, a soothing touch with no real intent behind it. For a long time, they simply lay there in silence, breathing in sync.
After a while, Jayden murmured, "You know… promo starts in a few days."
Enya lifted her head slightly. "Oh?"
He grinned. "Yeah. And let me tell you… the new social media manager? Absolute genius. She’s doing exactly what I wanted. The fans are gonna lose their minds."
Despite everything, Enya smirked. "What did you do this time?"

Jayden chuckled softly, his thumb still stroking over her skin. "I may or may not have planned the most ridiculous cat-and-mouse game. You know how they love that shit. In a few days, they’re gonna be freaking out, coming up with a million theories. I can’t wait to see it."
The thought alone made him smile, already picturing the chaos he was about to unleash. But what excited him even more was reading through all the fan theories, watching them spiral, and laughing his ass off.
Just as his eyes started to droop, and the weight of exhaustion finally settled over him, his phone buzzed on the nightstand.
Jayden sighed, reaching for it without much thought. A message from Lexy.
Jayden squinted at his phone screen, his vision slightly blurred with exhaustion. Lexy’s message popped up:

Lexy: Are you guys still at the hospital? Liam and I need to talk to you. It’s important.
He rubbed his face and sighed before typing back.
Jayden: No, we’re back home. You can come over.
He sent the message and set the phone back down, just as Enya stirred beside him. Her voice was barely above a whisper. “Who was that?”
“Nothing important,” Jayden murmured, shifting slightly so she could get more comfortable. “Just go back to sleep, love. It’ll do you good.”
Enya hummed softly and laid her head on his chest, letting the steady rhythm of his heartbeat lull her back into sleep.
Jayden stayed awake. His fingers moved in slow, absentminded strokes over her arm as he stared up at the ceiling, his mind too restless to follow her into unconsciousness. The weight of the past twenty-four hours still sat heavy on his shoulders, but here, in this moment, with Enya breathing softly against him, the world felt a little quieter.
Time passed. He wasn’t sure how much. His mind drifted in and out of drowsiness, until—

Ding-dong.
The doorbell rang.
Enya didn’t even stir. Jayden carefully untangled himself from her, moving with practiced ease to avoid waking her. He pulled the blanket up around her before heading for the door.
When he opened it, Lexy and Liam stood on the other side.
Jayden’s stomach twisted. Liam looked awful—pale, hollow-eyed, and barely holding himself together. Like a walking ghost.
Jayden stepped aside. “Come in.”
They walked in silently, their presence adding a strange weight to the air. As they sat down in the living room, Jayden offered, “Something to drink?”
Both shook their heads.
Jayden exhaled and sank into the armchair opposite them. He leaned forward slightly, elbows on his knees, his voice gentle but cautious. “Alright… What’s this about?”
Liam didn’t answer. He just stared at the floor, his fingers loosely clasped together. His expression was eerily blank, like he wasn’t really there.
Lexy shifted beside him, took a deep breath, and cleared her throat. Then, with a steady voice, she dropped the bomb.

Lexy exhaled slowly before speaking. “We just came from Liam’s therapist,” she began, her voice steady but careful. “And he strongly advised that Liam keeps his distance from Enya for now. For her sake… and for his.”
Jayden’s jaw tightened. He already knew where this was going.
Lexy pressed on. “So, we talked, and we decided—Liam is going to move out for now. He’ll stay with Michael until we find him a place.”
Jayden leaned back slightly, running a hand through his hair. His emotions were a tangled mess—anger, frustration, but also something heavier, something he didn’t want to name. He still hadn’t processed everything that had happened, but the idea of Liam leaving hit differently than he expected. He understood why, of course. It was logical. Necessary, even. But it still sat uneasily in his chest.
After a moment, he sighed. “I get it,” he said finally. “It makes sense.” His gaze flickered to Liam, who still hadn’t looked up. “But… are you sure about this?”
Liam’s fingers tightened around each other, but he didn’t respond.

Jayden exhaled sharply. “You know this is gonna break her heart, right?”
A voice from behind them made them all freeze.
“What’s going to break my heart?”
They turned as one.
Enya stood in the doorway, still dressed in the oversized hoodie she had slept in. Her hair was slightly messy, her eyes heavy with sleep, but the way she looked at them—sharp, questioning—made Jayden’s stomach drop.
Lexy’s mouth opened, then closed. She glanced at Jayden, but he had no words either.
The silence stretched, thick with unspoken things.
And then, finally, Liam moved.
Slowly, he stood, turning to face Enya fully. His expression was unreadable, but his voice, when he spoke, was quiet.
“I can’t do this anymore,” he said. “I can’t stand being a danger to you.”
Enya blinked, confusion flashing across her face. “What?”
Liam swallowed hard. “I’m moving out.”

Shock flickered in her eyes, quickly replaced by stubborn refusal. “No. Absolutely not.”
Jayden and Lexy exchanged a quick glance, knowing this was about to get messy.
Liam exhaled shakily. “Enya—”
“No,” she cut him off, stepping closer. “You don’t get to just decide that. We’ll figure something out, we always do—”
“This is me figuring it out,” Liam interrupted, his voice rough with emotion. “I have to go.”
Enya’s breathing quickened, but before she could argue further, Liam turned to Jayden and Lexy. His next words came out barely above a whisper.
“Can you give us a minute?”
Jayden hesitated, his protective instincts flaring up, but Lexy gently touched his arm. With a last glance at Enya, Jayden gave a reluctant nod.
“Yeah. We’ll be in the kitchen,” Lexy murmured.
With that, they left the room, closing the door softly behind them.

Chapter Text

Enya's breath hitched as she stared at Liam, eyes shining with unshed tears. “No,” she whispered, her voice shaking. “I won’t let you do this.”
Liam clenched his jaw, forcing himself to stay calm despite the ache in his chest. He had expected this, but hearing the desperation in her voice made it so much harder. “Enya,” he said softly, trying to reach her through the haze of emotion. “You have to understand—”
“No, you have to understand,” she interrupted, stepping forward, her hands trembling at her sides. “You don’t have to do this. You don’t have to go.”
“I do.”
Her head shook furiously. “We’ll find a way. We always find a way. You don’t have to leave—”
“I do,” he repeated, his voice thick with emotion.
Tears slipped down her cheeks, her breathing erratic. “Why?” she whispered, barely able to get the word out. “Why are you doing this?”

Liam exhaled sharply, feeling his own composure begin to crack. He wanted to hold her, to promise her that everything would be okay, but that would be a lie. And he refused to lie to her. Not anymore.
“Because we both need space, Enya,” he said, his voice rough but steady. “You and I. We need distance from each other, so we can finally heal.”
Enya let out a choked sob and shook her head again, her fingers curling into the fabric of her sleeves. “You’re not the one who got hurt,” she rasped, her voice breaking. “You’re not the one who—”
Liam flinched as if she had struck him. “I know,” he admitted, his throat tight. “But I am the one who hurt you. And I can’t keep pretending that things can go back to the way they were.”
Enya stared at him, wide-eyed, her lips parted in disbelief.
“This—” Liam gestured vaguely between them, his hands unsteady. “This relationship between us… it’ll never be the same. Not after what I’ve done to you.”
A fresh wave of tears spilled from her eyes, her face contorting in pain. “You didn’t—”
“I did.” Liam's voice was firm, even though it killed him to say it. “I did, Enya. And you’re trying so hard to act like it doesn’t change anything, but it does.” His breath shuddered as he raked a hand through his hair. “You say you don’t blame me. Maybe you even believe that. But it doesn’t change the fact that I will never not blame myself.”

Enya let out a broken sound, something between a sob and a protest, and lunged forward, grabbing his wrists. “Then let’s fix it together,” she pleaded. “Please, Liam. We can fix this.”
Liam swallowed back the lump in his throat and gently cupped her face in both hands, tilting it up so she had no choice but to look at him. His thumbs brushed over her damp cheeks, and he forced himself to smile, even though it felt like his heart was being ripped from his chest.
“You’re not losing me,” he murmured, his voice tender despite the pain. “You will never lose me.” He let his forehead rest against hers, his eyes slipping shut for just a moment. “I will always be your friend.”
A sob shuddered through her as she clung to him, her fingers digging into his wrists. “Then don’t leave me,” she begged, her voice barely above a whisper.
“I have to.” His voice broke. “For both of us.”
Enya shook her head wildly, but her resistance was already crumbling. He could feel it in the way her body trembled against his, in the way her grip on him slackened ever so slightly.
A moment later, she collapsed against his chest, her sobs raw and unrestrained. Liam’s arms wrapped around her without hesitation, holding her as tightly as he dared, his own eyes burning as he buried his face in her hair.
And in that moment, he knew.
Jayden had been right.
He was breaking her heart.

**

Jay ran a hand through his hair, exhaling slowly as he leaned back against the kitchen counter. His fingers tapped absently against his mug, but he wasn’t drinking. His thoughts were still in the living room, lingering on Enya and Liam.
Lexy sat across from him, arms crossed, her expression tight. She looked exhausted. Not just physically, but in a way that settled deep into her bones. Jay studied her for a moment before asking, “Are you okay?”
Lexy let out a dry, humorless laugh. “Do I look okay?” She shook her head. “I’m worried sick about my brother. I mean…” She rubbed at her temple. “How the hell did we get here?”
Jay’s jaw tensed, his fingers tightening around his mug. “Maybe,” he said, voice measured, “this wouldn’t have happened if you and Danny hadn’t been so selfish and gone off to get high.”
Lexy’s head snapped up. Her expression twisted, first in confusion, then in sharp offense. “Excuse me?”
Jay met her gaze evenly, his own expression unreadable. “You left them alone, Lex. For what? A quick smoke? That’s what was so important?” His words were calm, but there was a clear undercurrent of irritation—passive-aggressive, accusatory.

Lexy’s shock quickly morphed into anger. “Are you seriously blaming me for this right now?”
Jay shrugged, setting his mug down a little too forcefully. “I’m just saying, maybe if you’d stayed—”
“Oh, fuck you,” she snapped, sitting up straighter. “We were gone for fifteen minutes, Jay. Fifteen. When we left, they were awake and talking. How the hell were we supposed to know this would happen?”
Jay’s eyes flashed with something unreadable. “You should’ve thought about that before leaving them alone.”
Lexy scoffed, leaning forward. “How dare you.” Her voice rose slightly. “You think this is my fault? You think I wouldn’t undo all of this if I could?”
Jay didn’t respond, his silence only fueling her frustration.
Lexy let out a sharp breath, shaking her head. “Unbelievable,” she muttered, pushing her chair back. “You know what? Screw this.”
She stood up abruptly, her chair scraping against the floor. “I’m not doing this with you.” Without waiting for a response, she stormed out of the kitchen, heading straight for the living room.
“Liam, we’re leaving—”
Her words died in her throat.
Liam wasn’t there.
Instead, she found Enya sitting alone on the couch, shoulders trembling, her face buried in her hands. A quiet, broken sob echoed through the room.
Lexy’s heart sank.
Shit.

Lexy’s frustration with Jayden evaporated the moment she saw Enya curled up on the couch, shoulders shaking with quiet sobs. Without hesitation, she crossed the room and sat down beside her, wrapping her arms around Enya in a firm but comforting embrace.
“Where’s Liam?” she asked softly, her voice barely above a whisper.
Enya sniffled, wiping at her wet cheeks. “In his room… packing some of his stuff,” she said, her voice trembling.
Lexy felt a pang in her chest. It was real now. Liam was leaving. There was no turning back. She held Enya a little tighter, gently rubbing her back in slow, soothing circles. “I’m so sorry,” she murmured.
Enya blinked, looking up at her in confusion. “For what?”
Lexy exhaled a heavy breath. “For everything,” she admitted. “For not seeing what was happening sooner. For not being here when—”
“Lex,” Enya interrupted, shaking her head. “You had nothing to do with this. It was… just a series of really, really awful circumstances.”
Lexy let out a dry, humorless chuckle. “Jayden seems to think differently,” she muttered under her breath.

Enya pulled back slightly, her teary eyes narrowing in confusion. “What do you mean?”
Lexy hesitated for a moment before sighing. “He thinks it’s my fault. That if Danny and I hadn’t gone outside to get high, none of this would’ve happened.”
Enya’s expression shifted instantly, disbelief flashing across her face. “What?”
Lexy gave a bitter half-smile. “Yeah. He basically accused us of being selfish.”
“That’s bullshit.” Enya sat up straighter, wiping at her nose before looking Lexy dead in the eye. “Jayden doesn’t know what he’s talking about. You were gone for what? Fifteen, twenty minutes? When you left, Liam and I were still awake and talking. It had nothing to do with you.”
Lexy let out a shaky breath. “Tell him that.”
Enya frowned, her frustration evident. “I will.”
Lexy studied her for a moment, then gave a small nod. “Just… don’t be too hard on him, okay? He’s still shaken up.”
Enya sighed. “Yeah, well… so are we all.”
The room fell into silence for a few moments, the weight of everything pressing down on them.
Then, from down the hall, they heard the sound of a zipper being pulled shut. Liam was ready to leave.

Liam emerged from the hallway, a duffel bag slung over his shoulder. His expression was unreadable, but his eyes—his eyes told the real story. He was struggling to keep it together.
He attempted a half-hearted smile. “Well… I guess this is it.”
The attempt at casualness was pathetic, and everyone in the room knew it.
Jayden exhaled sharply, rubbing the back of his neck before stepping forward. “Come here, mate.”
Without hesitation, he pulled Liam into a firm, brotherly hug, squeezing him tightly. Despite everything, despite the anger still simmering under his skin, Jayden couldn’t ignore the fact that Liam was still his friend. And right now, his friend was breaking.
Jay’s voice was low but firm. “You know you can call me anytime, yeah? If you need anything. Doesn't matter if it’s mental, financial, whatever. You’re not alone in this.”
Liam swallowed hard, his throat tight. He gave a small nod. “I appreciate it, man. Really.”

Lexy was already by the door, waiting patiently, giving Liam the space he needed to say goodbye.
Liam turned to Enya. His heart clenched painfully at the sight of her—red-rimmed eyes, arms wrapped around herself as if she were holding herself together by sheer force of will.
“Hey,” he said gently. “Don’t be sad, okay? It’s not like I’m disappearing off the face of the Earth.”
Enya let out a sharp breath through her nose, wiping at her eyes. “Yeah, yeah, you’ll be just around the corner. Whatever.”
A small, tired smile tugged at Liam’s lips.
She hesitated for a moment before stepping forward, but just as she was about to wrap her arms around him, she stopped. Her gaze searched his face, her voice barely above a whisper. “Is this okay?”
Liam didn’t answer with words. He simply nodded and opened his arms.
The hug was warm. Familiar. And despite the turmoil between them, Enya let herself melt into the embrace, pressing her face into his shoulder as she clung to him. It felt like closure. Like something breaking apart and mending at the same time.
When she finally pulled back, she cupped his face with both hands, pulling him down slightly before pressing a soft, lingering kiss to his lips. It wasn’t romantic. It wasn’t possessive. It was a goodbye.
Liam exhaled shakily as they parted. He forced a smirk, trying to lighten the heaviness in the air. “See you around, yeah?”
Enya nodded, her throat too tight to speak.

Without another word, Liam turned away, walking toward Lexy. She gave Enya one last glance before opening the door, and together, they stepped outside.
Enya followed them to the window, watching as Liam tossed his bag into the car while Lexy slid into the driver’s seat. She didn’t blink, didn’t move, as the engine roared to life and they backed out of the driveway.
She stayed frozen even as the car turned onto the road, taking Liam further and further away from her.
Then, just as he disappeared from view, warm arms wrapped around her from behind.
Jayden.
He didn’t say anything at first. Just held her, letting his presence speak for itself.
That was all it took for the dam to break.
A fresh wave of tears spilled down Enya’s cheeks as she turned in Jayden’s embrace, burying her face in his chest. His arms tightened around her, his lips pressing a soft kiss to the top of her head.
“Shhh, it’s okay,” he murmured, rocking her slightly. “It’s gonna be okay, I promise.”
But right now, it didn’t feel like it ever would be.

Chapter Text

The car crawled through the congested streets, wedged between honking vehicles and an endless row of red brake lights. The sky was gray, as if it had decided to match the mood inside the car. Not a word was spoken. Only the soft hum of the engine and the occasional squeak of the windshield wipers cut through the silence.
Lexy gripped the steering wheel tighter, her knuckles turning slightly white. Her eyes were fixed on the road, but in truth, she was miles away. Her thoughts raced in circles around the same terrifying subject—Liam. What was going to happen to him? To them?
Liam sat beside her, his head resting against the cold window. His gaze was empty, fixed on the buildings passing by, but inside his mind, a storm was raging. He forced himself to breathe evenly, forced himself not to think about what he had left behind. Not about Enya’s tears. Not about the look in her eyes. Not about the last kiss, which still burned on his lips.
But he couldn’t help it.

Her last words echoed in his skull, threatening to shatter him completely.
His jaw clenched. Fuck it. Fuck all of it.
He couldn’t keep going like this.
He took a slow, measured breath before speaking in a rough voice: “You got anything on you?”
Lexy blinked, confused. “What?”
He turned his head toward her, his eyes darker than usual. “Weed. Or something else. I don’t care. I just need to feel something. Or nothing. Just—anything but this.”
For a moment, Lexy didn’t say anything. Then she scoffed, gripping the wheel even tighter. “You’re joking, right?”
“Do I look like I’m joking?”
“Jesus, Liam.” She shot him a horrified look before turning back to the road. “You can’t seriously think I’d—No. Forget it. I’m not giving you anything.”
He let out a bitter laugh. “Of course not.”

“Of course not?” Now she sounded angry. “What did you expect? That I’d roll you a joint and say, Have fun ruining yourself?”
He shrugged. “Figured you might still have leftovers from the last session with Danny.”
“Fuck you, Liam.”
He scoffed. “Relax. No need to make it dramatic.”
Lexy sucked in a sharp breath, shaking her head. “Dramatic? You want to get high because you can’t deal with your shit, and I’m the one being dramatic? Are you serious right now?”
“Don’t act like you’re better than me,” he muttered.
“I—” She bit her lip, holding back a response because she realized he was trying to push her away. That he was shutting down because he knew she was trying to stop him.
A few seconds of tense silence passed before she said, voice carefully controlled, “Liam… you do know this is a stupid idea, right?”
He pressed his tongue against the inside of his cheek. “Yup.”
“And?”
No response.
The conversation was dead.

Lexy gave up. She knew she couldn’t reach him right now. Maybe later. Maybe… someday.
Instead, she sighed, pressed the gas pedal gently, and said, “I need to stop for gas.”
Without waiting for a response, she pulled into a gas station and parked. Liam leaned back in his seat, closed his eyes, and tried to calm the frantic beating of his heart.
But then came the next thought.
And this thought was even more dangerous than the first.
He waited until Lexy had inserted the fuel nozzle into the tank, then slowly grabbed his backpack and opened the car door. “I’ll pay for it,” he muttered, already walking toward the store before she could protest.
He knew exactly what he was about to do.

As Liam stepped into the store, the sterile chill of the air conditioning hit him. Fluorescent lights flickered over gleaming shelves stacked with everything from chips to candy to energy drinks. But he headed straight for the real reason he was here.
The alcohol section was behind a glass display near the counter. Rows of bottles, lined up like a collection of forbidden promises.
His gaze drifted over the labels as he slowly pulled open the fridge door. The moment his fingers wrapped around the cold glass of a vodka bottle, a strange calm settled over him.
As if he had just found the only thing that could silence the relentless noise inside his head.
His grip tightened, as though anchoring himself to the bottle, before he pulled it from the shelf. Another one followed. Just in case.
Then he grabbed a handful of snacks—some meaningless junk to make the purchase seem more casual. As the cashier scanned everything, Liam pulled out his wallet, tossed some bills onto the counter, and waited with feigned nonchalance as the receipt printed.
“All good, boss. Have a nice night.”

Liam nodded, muttered something unintelligible, and took the receipt—only to toss it into the nearest trash can a few steps later. Then, with controlled steps, he walked back outside.
When he got back into the car, he shut the door just a little too hard. Lexy glanced at him suspiciously.
“Well, would you look at that? My generous brother’s paying for me,” she quipped, her lips curving into a sarcastic smirk as she started the engine.
Liam just shrugged and stared out the window. The weight of the vodka bottles in his backpack was heavy, yet somehow, it felt comforting.
Silence returned. Heavy. Cold.
And this time, it was Liam who couldn’t stand it.

The hum of the engine and the faint whoosh of passing cars were the only sounds inside the car. Lexy focused on the road, while Liam stared out of the window, one hand buried loosely in his lap, the other resting on his backpack.
The silence felt like a heavy coat he was desperate to shake off. So he cleared his throat and said the first thing that came to mind:
“When’s Mikey taking Gremlin back?”
Lexy blinked, as if she had momentarily forgotten she wasn’t alone in the car. “Sometime today. Now that Jay and Enya are back, he can go home.”
Liam nodded slowly. “Hm.”
That was it. No big deal. And yet, something about it gnawed at him. Gremmy had always been such a damn good moral support. The little dog had a knack for just lying on him whenever he was down, staring at him with those big, dark eyes like he was trying to say: You’re not alone, dumbass.
But Enya probably needed that more than he did.

“Where am I even supposed to sleep?” he asked, still keeping his gaze fixed on the city passing by. “Mikey’s house only has three bedrooms, right?”
Lexy hesitated. A moment too long.
Liam frowned, turning his head toward her. “Lex?”
“You’ll take my room,” she said quickly. “I’m moving in with Michael.”
He blinked. “Oh.”
She must have sensed his look, because she immediately added, “Don’t freak out, okay? It’s not a big deal. It’s just temporary until we find a place for you.”
Liam pressed his lips together. Sure. No big deal.
He lowered his head slightly, staring at his hands. Then at his backpack.
Inside it was the solution to all of this. Or at least a damn good Plan B.

Lexy seemed eager to change the subject, so she asked in a deliberately casual tone, “Do you have any idea where we should look for apartments? Downtown? Something quieter? Or close to Michael or Jay?”
Liam scoffed. “As if I could afford any of that.”
Lexy rolled her eyes. “I didn’t ask what you could afford. I asked where you’d want to live.”
He took a deep breath, then shrugged. “I don’t care. As long as I can get around by bus and train and it’s not a total dump, it’s fine.”
Lexy glanced at him sideways but said nothing more.
The silence returned. But this time, it didn’t feel quite as suffocating.
Liam lowered his hand until his fingertips brushed against his backpack. The glass underneath felt cool and reassuring.
He had everything under control.
Absolutely.

Liam had grown increasingly restless. During the drive, his fingers tapped against his leg, or he absentmindedly fidgeted with the zipper of his hoodie. He felt uneasy, like his own body didn’t belong to him anymore. He couldn’t wait to finally arrive and… well, numb himself.
His gaze drifted to the backpack at his feet. Not directly to the alcohol—at least, not consciously—but he had known there was something in there that would bring him down. Something that would make all of this more bearable. His fingers brushed against his lips, tracing the spot where Enya’s kiss had lingered.
He clenched his jaw and turned his head toward the window.

When they finally arrived at Michael’s place, Liam had fallen eerily silent. He stepped out of the car, stretched his stiff limbs, and pulled his hood further over his head. Michael opened the front door, a slight frown tugging at his otherwise relaxed expression.
“Well, if it ain’t our favorite troublemaker,” Michael greeted him, his tone a mix of relief and concern.
“Would’ve been a shame if I didn’t show up. Then I’d actually have to miss you,” Liam shot back with a crooked grin.
Michael narrowed his eyes slightly but didn't push. Instead, he gestured toward the hallway. “Got your room set up. It’s not much, but you can make yourself comfortable.”
“That’s all I need.” Liam nodded in appreciation and followed him inside.
The room had been small but cozy. Fresh sheets, a tidy desk, a window overlooking the garden. Everything had been far too neat for Liam’s liking, but right now, it felt… safe.
“Thanks for letting me stay,” he murmured, tossing his backpack onto the bed.
“No worries, man.” Michael studied him for a second, as if debating whether to say more. But in the end, he just gave Liam’s shoulder a brief pat before stepping back.

Lexy, however, hadn’t moved. “I’ll stay for a bit.”
Liam exhaled softly. “Lex, I just need a moment alone. Okay?”
She opened her mouth to protest, but Michael rested a hand on her shoulder. “Let him be, Lex. Let him settle in.”
Reluctantly, she gave in. “Fine. But if you need anything…”
“I know.”
Lexy hesitated for another second before leaving with Michael.
Liam waited until their footsteps had faded down the hall before slowly closing the door.
Silence.
He stood in the middle of the room, his shoulders slumping. A deep breath, then he reached for his backpack. His fingers trembled slightly as he unzipped it and wrapped them around the cold glass bottle.

His gaze drifted to the window. The sun had been setting, painting the sky in warm hues of orange and red. So peaceful. So deceivingly beautiful.
His throat felt dry. Maybe it had just been in his head, but the weight in his chest—the suffocating heaviness that had been clinging to him all day—had seemed unbearable.
Slowly, he twisted the cap open. A soft crack as the seal broke.
He lifted the bottle, holding it in the air for a moment.
Then, a bitter smile tugged at his lips.
"To you, Ryan. You filthy bastard finally did it. You destroyed us all."
And with one deep pull, he drank.

Chapter Text

Lexy couldn’t sit still. She had tried. She had curled up on the couch with a cup of tea, put on some music, even told herself that overthinking wouldn’t change anything. But it didn’t work. Her thoughts kept circling around Liam—his unsteady steps, his swollen eyes, his half-hearted attempts to pretend everything was fine.
She sighed, running a hand through her hair.
Michael, who was standing by the door, pulling on his jacket, watched her with a frown. “If you keep pacing like that, you’re gonna wear a hole in the floor.”
“Haha,” she replied dryly.
He studied her for a moment, then nodded toward the door. “Come with me. I need to drop Gremlin off at Jay’s, but we can take him for a walk first.”
Lexy wanted to refuse, but she knew there was no point. Worrying herself sick wasn’t going to change anything, and fresh air wouldn’t hurt. So she grabbed her jacket and followed Michael outside.

The path led them into a nearby forest. Gremlin bounded ahead, sniffing every other tree and bouncing through the undergrowth like an overexcited rabbit. Michael threw a few sticks for him, and the dog proudly brought them back—at least until he decided it was more fun to chew them to pieces instead.
Lexy walked beside Michael, her hands buried deep in her pockets. The forest was quiet, apart from the rustling leaves and the occasional bark from Gremlin.
Neither of them spoke for a long time.
Michael gave her space. He knew she would talk when she was ready.
And then, after several minutes, she did.
“Do you think…” She hesitated. Took a deep breath. Tried again. “Do you think it’s my fault?”
Michael frowned. “What is?”
“What happened with Liam. And Enya. Last night.”
Michael stopped walking and turned to face her. “Why would you think that?”

Lexy avoided his gaze. “Jayden said so. He said Danny and I were to blame. That we were selfish.”
Michael was quiet for a moment. She could see him thinking—choosing his words carefully, not just throwing out an impulsive answer.
Then he sighed. “Lex… you know that’s not true, right?”
She shook her head. “I don’t know anything anymore.”
Michael crossed his arms. “Liam didn’t decide to attack Enya. He didn’t even decide to get up. He was asleep, Lex. Sleepwalking. He wasn’t conscious.”
“But if Danny and I had been there and not—”
“Stop.” Michael’s voice was calm but firm. “You didn’t put him in this situation. It was… a fucked-up chain reaction. The medication was supposed to help him, but instead, it threw him into a nightmare. No one saw that coming. Not even you.”
Lexy pressed her lips together. “But that's exactly why we were with him and Enya: to look after them both.”

Michael ran a hand through his hair. “Lexy, come on. Liam was going to need help sooner or later, with or without you. He was at a breaking point—this isn’t your fault. This is just… shitty, unfair reality.”
Lexy stayed quiet.
Michael nudged her shoulder. “Besides—if this was really all your fault, do you think I’d be out here walking Jay's dog with you instead of tying you to a tree until you got your head straight?”
She pulled a face. “Depends on your mood.”
“Fair point.”
Despite everything, Lexy let out a small, fleeting smile. Then she tilted her head back, staring up at the sky peeking through the trees.
“I want to help him,” she murmured. “But I feel like I’m only making things worse.”
Michael shoved his hands into his pockets, watching as Gremlin wrestled with a half-rotten branch.
“Then stop trying to do it alone,” he said finally. “And let him decide whether he wants the help or not.”
Lexy pressed her lips together. Deep down, she knew he was right.
But that didn’t make it any easier.

When Mikey and Lexy returned from their walk, Michael casually announced that he was going to drop Gremlin off at Jayden’s and would be back in half an hour.
Left alone, Lexy decided to cook something for everyone. Nothing too complicated—she wasn’t exactly a master chef. She rummaged through the kitchen, settling on something simple, when Danny suddenly appeared, leaning against the doorway with his usual easy-going grin.
"What’s cooking, Lexy Lex?" he asked, peeking over her shoulder.
"Something edible, hopefully," she muttered, stirring the pan.
Danny watched her for a moment, then casually said, "You look like something is bothering you."
Lexy stiffened slightly but nodded. "Jayden said it was our fault. That if we hadn’t been selfish, none of it would’ve happened."

Danny let out a sharp exhale, shaking his head. "Bullshit. That would’ve happened whether we were there or not. Maybe we would’ve stopped it sooner, but you think it would’ve been any less traumatic for all of us? Seeing Liam like that? Enya waking up gasping for air with us hovering over her?" He scoffed. "Nah. It wouldn’t have changed a damn thing. Besides, we’re not his babysitters."
Lexy bit her lip, her thoughts still tangled. "But what if—"
"Doesn’t matter," Danny cut in. "It happened. And blaming ourselves won’t undo it."
She knew he was right, but the doubt still gnawed at her. Instead of arguing, she changed the subject. "Have you checked on Liam? How’s he doing?"
Danny, completely unfazed, replied as if he were talking about the weather. "Oh yeah. He’s currently getting shitfaced."
Lexy’s eyes widened in alarm. "What?! Are you serious?" She immediately turned to storm toward Liam’s room, but Danny caught her wrist, stopping her.
"Let him," he said, his voice unusually firm. "If it helps him get through this, let him."
"But he’s on medication!" Lexy protested, her frustration rising.

Danny pulled a small pill bottle from his pocket and placed it on the counter. "Not this week, he’s not. His doctor told him to go off everything for a week to flush it out of his system before starting the benzos again. Until then, I’ll check in on him and make sure nothing happens… other than a well-deserved hangover tomorrow morning."
Lexy still didn’t like it, but at least she felt some relief knowing Danny was keeping an eye on him. With a sigh, she turned back to the stove, stirring absentmindedly.
Danny smirked, watching her. "So… how edible are we talking?"
"Shut up and set the table."

**

Just as Lexy finished cooking and she and Danny were about to start eating, the front door opened, and Michael walked in. He stretched briefly before leaning against the kitchen counter. “I smell food. Do I have to sing for my supper, or can I just dig in?”
“Only if it’s a lullaby,” Lexy muttered, sliding him a plate.
Michael let out a satisfied sigh as he dropped onto one of the chairs and started eating. As he chewed, Lexy examined him curiously “How’s Enya?”
Daniel shrugged. “What do you think?”
Michael exhaled a soft breath. “Her heart’s just as broken as Liam’s. The two of them really got screwed over.”
Lexy nodded slowly, pushing her food around with her fork. She could feel Michael watching her, like he was waiting for her to say more. But she didn’t know what else there was to say. So instead, she directed her next question at Daniel. “Is Liam coming down to eat?”
“Doubt it.” He leaned back, crossing his arms. “He’s too busy drinking himself into oblivion.”
Michael froze mid-motion, his fork hovering inches from his mouth. “Oh. Fantastic.”
Danny waved a hand dismissively. “I’ll take him up a plate later.”

After that, they ate in quiet companionship, the occasional clatter of cutlery filling the room. When they finished and were about to head to the living room, they heard a door swing open upstairs. Unsteady footsteps rushed down the hallway, followed by the unmistakable slam of the guest bathroom door.
Danny sighed. “Well, so much for that meal.”
Lexy pulled a face as the sounds from the bathroom confirmed exactly what was happening. “Impressive how he’s managing to have his hangover breakfast before midnight.”
Michael rubbed a hand over his face. “I’d like just one night where I don’t have to worry about at least one person.”
“At least he’s not mixing his meds with alcohol,” Danny pointed out. “That’s progress, right?”
Lexy didn’t respond, but she was relieved Danny was keeping an eye on Liam. Even if her patience was wearing thin.

For a while, they sat in the living room, watching a show none of them were really paying attention to. Then Michael stood up and stretched. “I’m heading to bed. Jet lag’s killing me.”
Lexy nodded and got up as well. “I’ll come with you.”
Upstairs in Michael’s room, Lexy changed into one of her oversized shirts while he was already sprawled out in bed, watching her with a lazy smile. As soon as she joined him under the covers, he wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her close.
“I missed this,” he murmured into her hair, his voice heavy with exhaustion.
Lexy hummed in agreement, snuggling into his warmth. “Me too.”
For a moment, they just lay there, wrapped in the quiet comfort of each other. But then Michael’s fingers started moving—tracing slow, lazy circles over her hip before slipping under the hem of her shirt. His touch was warm, teasing, as he let his hand wander, brushing along her ribs.
Lexy exhaled softly, arching slightly against him. “Mikey…”

“Hm?” His voice was low, knowing. He pressed a kiss to the side of her neck, his lips grazing over her pulse point before trailing lower.
Lexy shivered, tilting her head to give him more access. “I know you said you wanted to make me…” She hesitated, her breath catching when his hand slid higher. “…come when you got back.”
Michael paused, his lips hovering just above her collarbone. “That was the plan.” His fingers traced the underside of her breast, feather-light. “Is that a no?”
Lexy exhaled, placing her hand over his to still his movements. “I just…” She sighed, resting her head against his chest. “I don’t think now is the right time. Not when Liam is just a few feet away, throwing up his guts.”
Michael let out a low, amused chuckle. “That does kill the mood a little.”
“A little?” Lexy gave him a pointed look.
Michael grinned, withdrawing his hand but keeping her close. “Okay, fine. It’s completely ruined. But that actually works out, ‘cause I’m pretty sure I’m gonna pass out for the next 24 hours.”
Lexy giggled softly. “Then good night, Mikey.”
He pressed a lazy kiss to the top of her head. “Good night, Trouble.”

Chapter Text

Liam woke up feeling like absolute shit. His head pounded with every sluggish heartbeat, his mouth was dry and tasted like something had crawled in there and died, and his entire body felt like it had been wrung out and left to dry in a gutter.
With a groan, he blinked blearily at his surroundings. His room. The heavy curtains still drawn. His clothes scattered on the floor. And—
Danny.
Sprawled out next to him, utterly relaxed, lying on his stomach, half the blanket kicked off his body. And naked, of course. Because of fucking course.
Liam swallowed hard. He wasn’t even surprised at himself when his body reacted.

Annoyed—at himself, at Danny, at the whole goddamn world—he pushed himself up with a groan and stumbled to the bathroom. He took his time pissing, then grabbed his toothbrush and scrubbed at his teeth until the taste of stale alcohol, vomit and regret faded.
When he looked up at the mirror, he froze.
Jesus.
His reflection looked like a corpse. Hollow cheeks, dark circles under bloodshot eyes, the kind of skin tone that screamed ‘unhealthy choices.’ He looked like absolute shit. Felt like it, too.
Maybe drinking hadn’t been the best idea. Sure, it had numbed him for a while, but the aftermath was brutal. There were better ways to check out. Ones that didn’t come with a pounding headache and the overwhelming urge to vomit.
He exhaled sharply through his nose, rubbing his face with both hands before turning back towards the bedroom.

Danny was still there. Still naked. Still utterly unfazed by the world. The blanket had slid down even further, revealing the lean muscles of his back, the curve of his ass, and—fuck.
Liam's dick twitched.
Annoyance surged up inside him, burning hot.
This was so fucking predictable.
A naked Enya. A naked Jayden. A naked Danny. It didn’t matter. His body reacted the same way every damn time, like some pathetic, desperate junkie chasing the next high.
His jaw clenched as he dropped onto the edge of the bed, sighing through his nose. Fuck it. He shoved a hand into his boxers, wrapping his fingers around himself and starting to jerk off, rough and impatient. Maybe if he just got it over with, his body would calm the fuck down.
And then—

A sleepy, low groan.
Liam tensed. His eyes flicked to Danny just as the other man shifted, his long lashes fluttering open lazily. Danny took in the scene before him—Liam, sitting there, stroking himself with an expression of pure frustration—and grinned.
"Hey," Danny murmured, voice thick with sleep and amusement. "Save me some for breakfast, yeah?"
Something in Liam snapped.
He let out a low, frustrated growl and reached out, grabbing Danny by the back of the neck. "Shut the fuck up," he muttered, pulling him in roughly.
Their lips crashed together, teeth clashing, the kiss messy and demanding. There was nothing sweet about it. Nothing tender. Just raw, unfiltered hunger.
Danny didn’t fight it. He never did. He just smirked against Liam’s mouth before parting his lips, letting Liam take what he wanted.
And Liam wanted.

Liam’s breath was heavy, uneven, as he devoured Danny’s mouth. His fingers dug into Danny’s hips, his grip almost bruising. Everything in him screamed for distraction, for an escape from the ache behind his ribs, from the toxic mix of self-loathing and restless need coiling inside his gut.
Danny arched against him, warm, familiar, completely open. He let Liam take, let him push, let him bite down too hard on his throat.
But even in his haze, Liam knew he needed to get him ready.
Not because he cared. Not really.
Just because he didn’t want to stop once he got started.
Still, he was sloppy. Too rushed. His fingers were slick, but not slick enough, and his patience was nonexistent. He stretched Danny open with two fingers, then three, his movements rough, uncoordinated, more about getting to the next step than actually making it good for either of them.
Danny let out a sharp breath, shifting beneath him. "Jesus, Liam," he muttered, voice edged with dry amusement. "If you’re gonna be an asshole, at least be a thorough asshole."
Liam ignored him.

He was hard, throbbing, desperate to sink into something that would shut him the fuck up—both mentally and physically. His jaw clenched as he pulled his fingers away, lined himself up, and pushed in without much warning.
Danny let out a strangled grunt, his fingers digging into Liam’s shoulders. "Christ—"
Liam didn’t stop. He didn’t give him time to adjust. He just slammed in, desperate for friction, for anything that could drown out the noise in his own head.
Danny hissed, his hands gripping onto Liam’s back, nails scraping down his skin. "You’re such a dickhead," he muttered breathlessly.
"Shut up," Liam growled, pressing his forehead against Danny’s.
Danny huffed out a strained laugh. "Then stop giving me reasons to talk, mate."
Liam didn’t respond. He just moved—fast, deep, relentless. There was nothing slow or gentle about it. He wasn’t thinking about Danny, about his pleasure, about anything other than the way it felt to lose himself for a few fucking minutes.
Danny let him, but not without commentary.

"Fuck—" He winced, shifting underneath Liam. "You know, for someone who's clearly got a lot of experience with this, you’re shit at pacing."
Liam just gritted his teeth and drove in harder, punishingly deep. Danny groaned, his head falling back against the pillow, his fingers flexing against Liam’s arms.
"Alright, alright," Danny muttered, breathless now. "I take it back—guess you do know what you’re doing."
Liam didn’t answer. Didn’t smirk. Didn’t gloat.
Because none of it mattered.
He was fucking. He was numbing himself. That was the only thing that counted.
And when it was over, when the pleasure finally burned through the last bit of coherent thought in his head, he collapsed onto Danny’s chest, heart hammering, breath ragged—
And felt just as fucking empty as before.

Liam rolled off Danny with a deep exhale, rubbing a hand over his face. His body still thrummed with the aftershocks, but the moment the high faded, the emptiness hit like a punch to the gut. His chest felt tight. His throat was dry. He needed—
Fuck, he didn’t know what he needed.
Without thinking, he swung his legs over the side of the bed, searching the floor for his boxers. His head was still pounding from the night before, his muscles aching, but at least for a few minutes, he’d managed to forget how fucking miserable he was. That had to count for something, right?
Danny, still sprawled out lazily, propped himself up on one elbow. His skin was still damp with sweat, his body completely at ease, but his eyes—those sharp, knowing eyes—were locked onto Liam with something dangerously close to amusement.

"Right," Danny drawled, stretching his arms behind his head. "Guess I should be flattered you didn’t just bolt straight out the door."
Liam huffed, forcing a smirk as he pulled his underwear up. "Oh, fuck off. Can’t even take a second to recover before you start running your mouth?"
Danny chuckled, low and lazy. "Mate, you fuck like you’re trying to win a war, then immediately act like none of it happened. ‘Course I’m gonna say something."
Liam shot him a look, reaching for his jeans. "Jesus, you always gotta analyze everything?"
Danny shrugged. "Not everything. Just the way you act like your dick’s a magic eraser for your problems."
Liam barked out a laugh, shaking his head. "You sound like a fuckin’ therapist."
"And you sound like someone who can’t sit with his own thoughts for five bloody minutes," Danny shot back, voice mild but firm.

Liam froze for half a second—just long enough for the words to land—before forcing another smirk. "Yeah, yeah. Real deep. You want a fucking medal?"
Danny exhaled, shaking his head with something that wasn’t quite amusement. "Nah. Just wondering how long you think you can keep this up before it eats you alive."
Liam’s jaw tightened. He yanked his shirt over his head, shoving his arms through the sleeves a little too roughly. "Well, good thing I don’t plan on finding out."
Danny just watched him, unreadable. Then, with a slow, deliberate motion, he rolled over, reached for his pack of cigarettes, and lit one without another word.
Liam felt something tighten in his chest. He didn’t know why.

"Good fuck, though," he said, forcing his voice into something light, something easy. Something normal.
Danny exhaled smoke through his nose, lips quirking just slightly. "Right. Because that’s all this was."
Liam grinned, all teeth, all bravado. "That’s all it ever is."
Danny let out a quiet laugh, shaking his head as he took another drag. "If you say so."
And fuck—the worst part?
That little shake of the head made Liam feel more naked than when he was actually naked.
Liam cleared his throat, stretching his arms over his head like nothing was out of the ordinary. “So,” he said, voice casual, “you want breakfast or what?”
Danny grinned, slow and knowing, as he dragged the cigarette from his lips. “Oh, I’ll take whatever you’re offering.”
Liam rolled his eyes, but before he could fire back, Danny swung his legs over the side of the bed and stood—completely bare, completely unbothered. Liam had barely adjusted to that when he caught the slow trickle of his own cum sliding down Danny’s thigh.
A wave of heat—equal parts embarrassment and something else he refused to name—rushed up his neck.

Danny stretched, muscles flexing, then let his gaze slide lazily back to Liam. “Gonna shower first, though. I expect something decent waiting for me on the kitchen table when I’m done.”
And before Liam could react, Danny landed a sharp slap on his ass, grinning as he strolled toward the bathroom.
Liam exhaled through his nose, shaking his head. “Unbelievable,” he muttered.
Still, as he pulled on his jeans and headed for the kitchen, he found himself a little lighter. Danny wasn’t pissed about how rough it had been. Wasn’t weird about it. He’d just… let it slide. That helped. A lot.
And if Liam had an ounce of gratitude in his emotionally-stunted body, he’d probably acknowledge that. Instead, he threw himself into breakfast.
He worked fast, hands moving on autopilot. Before long, he had a full spread—fluffy pancakes, perfectly crisped toast with sunny-side-up eggs, and fresh fruit that added just the right pop of color. The kitchen smelled insanely good, the kind of smell that could wake the dead.
Which, apparently, it did.

Danny was the first to appear, freshly showered and dressed, a tune humming under his breath as he entered. The moment he saw the food, his face lit up.
“That smells fantastic,” he practically sang, grabbing a plate and stacking it high with pancakes. He wasted no time digging in, groaning dramatically at the first bite.
Liam smirked. “Didn’t know you were such a breakfast guy.”
Danny grinned between bites. “Mate, after the fuck I just had? I earned this.”
Before Liam could respond, Michael appeared in the doorway, Lexy trailing behind him.
Lexy’s eyes flicked between Danny’s satisfied expression and Liam’s very particular brand of good mood. And, of course, because she was her, she clocked the situation immediately.
“Ohooo,” she sing-songed, slipping into a seat, “somebody’s in a great mood today. Wouldn’t have anything to do with those dubious noises coming from your room earlier, would it?”
Liam rolled his eyes, grabbing a plate for himself. “Fuck off, Lex.”

Danny, still mid-chew, muffled a laugh. Michael just shook his head, reaching for a piece of toast.
Lexy, clearly entertained, poured herself some coffee and settled in. The table fell into an easy silence—comfortable, warm, filled with the sound of clinking plates and soft hums of appreciation.
For once, Liam didn’t feel like he was crawling out of his skin.
Then, Lexy broke the quiet.
“When’s your next appointment with Dr. Carter?”
Liam didn’t hesitate. “Tomorrow morning.” He speared a piece of pancake, then glanced at her. “Think you could drive me?”
Lexy, mouth full, nodded.
Liam took that as a yes and continued. “After that, we could start looking at apartments. Got a few ideas.”
The shift in his tone—lighter, more hopeful—wasn’t lost on her.
Lexy brightened, matching his energy. “Hell yeah.”
And just like that, it felt a little less like a disaster waiting to happen.

Chapter Text

The morning light filtered softly through the curtains, casting a warm glow over the bed. Enya blinked sleepily, stretching her arms before turning her head toward Jayden. He was still completely knocked out beside her, his dark blonde hair a mess, mouth slightly open as he snored ever so faintly. A thin trail of drool glistened at the corner of his lips.
She bit back a laugh. Of course, even when he’s drooling, he still looks stupidly beautiful.
A sudden movement at the foot of the bed caught her attention. Gremlin, her loyal little gremlin of a dog, crawled toward her, tail wagging furiously. Before she could protest, he was already licking her face enthusiastically, his tiny paws pressing against her chest.
"Psst, Gremmy!" she whispered between giggles, pushing him away gently. "You're gonna wake Jay!"

Gremlin was utterly unbothered by her concerns and attempted another round of morning kisses. Enya rolled her eyes fondly and finally scooped him up, depositing him onto the floor before slipping out of bed herself. She shot one last glance at Jayden—who hadn’t even stirred despite the commotion—before making her way to the bathroom.
A shower would be quick, but the thought of sinking into a steaming hot bath was far more tempting. She turned on the faucet, watching as the water slowly filled the tub, then grabbed a bottle of her favorite bath soak. As soon as she poured it in, thick clouds of rose-scented foam blossomed over the surface, turning the water into a pink, dreamy haze.
Enya peeled off her clothes and stepped in, a sigh of pleasure escaping her lips as the heat wrapped around her sore muscles. She leaned back, closing her eyes, allowing herself to just be for a moment. No stress, no worries—just warmth, softness, peace.
Until a deep, sleepy voice broke through the tranquility.

"Good morning, darling."
Her eyes fluttered open, and there was Jayden, crouching beside the tub, looking at her like she was the most divine thing he'd ever seen. His hair was even more disheveled than before, his blue eyes still heavy with sleep, but the way he was gazing at her made her heart stutter.
A slow smirk tugged at his lips. "Should I wash your back?"
Enya smiled, nodding. "If you’re offering."
She barely finished the sentence before Jayden was yanking off his shirt, already working on his sweatpants with an almost comical amount of urgency. She couldn't help but giggle as he stripped at record speed, kicking away the last of his clothes before sliding into the tub behind her.
The warm water rippled around them as she leaned back against his chest, sighing contentedly when his arms circled around her waist.

For a long moment, neither of them spoke. They just existed together in the quiet, wrapped in each other’s presence, soaking in the comfort of finally being close again.
Then Jayden shifted, pressing a slow, lazy kiss to her bare shoulder before letting his lips trail up to her neck. His hands slid up her arms, massaging the tension from her muscles in steady, soothing strokes.
"I missed you so much," he murmured against her skin, voice low, reverent.
Enya shivered at the warmth of his breath, her fingers tightening around his hands. "I missed you too."
Another kiss, softer this time, just below her ear.
"Then let me make up for it," he whispered.

The warmth of the water, the feel of Jayden's arms wrapped around her, the slow, teasing kisses trailing along her shoulder—it was enough to make Enya feel completely weightless. She leaned into him, humming contentedly as his fingers continued their gentle massage down her arms.
Jayden exhaled against her damp skin, pressing another soft kiss below her ear.
"I love you so much," he murmured, voice still thick with sleep but laced with something deeper.
Enya smiled, tilting her head to the side to give him better access. "I love you too."
His hands slid down to her waist, thumbs stroking absentminded circles along her hips as his lips trailed lower, down the curve of her neck. She sighed at the sensation, arching into him just slightly, silently inviting him to keep going.
But then, just as quickly as his touch had deepened, he hesitated.

Jayden pulled back with a shaky breath. "We shouldn't," he said quietly, his fingers stilling against her skin. "You're still recovering, Enya."
She opened her eyes, looking up at him. "I am recovering," she agreed, turning in his arms so she could face him fully. "But I’m not made of glass, Jay."
Jayden frowned, brushing a strand of damp hair from her face. "I know. But I don’t want to push you too soon."
She studied him for a moment, then let out a soft giggle. "So what you're saying is… we need to get creative?"
He narrowed his eyes. "That is not what I said."
But the mischievous glint in her gaze made it clear she wasn’t going to let this go.

**

By the time they were seated at the kitchen table, fresh croissants, fruit, and coffee spread between them, Enya had made it her personal mission to test Jayden’s patience.
“So, hypothetically…” she mused, taking a small sip of her coffee. “If we were to, say, engage in certain activities—"
Jayden shot her a dry look over the rim of his mug. “Enya.”
She ignored him, toying with a slice of strawberry as she continued, “There are plenty of ways we could do it without me exerting myself. I mean, technically speaking, I wouldn’t even have to do anything.”
Jayden exhaled slowly, setting his coffee down. “You are relentless, aren’t you?”
Enya grinned. “I prefer the term determined.”

To anyone watching, Jayden might have seemed unfazed—his expression cool, his posture relaxed—but beneath the surface, his mind was already at work. You want to be spoiled, do you? he thought, eyes flickering to her lips as she chewed absentmindedly on a piece of fruit. Alright, darling. Let’s see how much you can take.

After breakfast, Enya got up to start clearing the dishes. She stood at the sink, humming softly to herself, when she felt Jayden move in behind her.
At first, it was subtle—just the warmth of his body pressing lightly against hers, his hands ghosting over her hips. Then his lips found the back of her neck, brushing a soft, lingering kiss there before trailing up toward her ear.
Enya smiled. “What are you up to?”
Jayden hummed against her skin. “You tell me.”
His arms wrapped around her waist, pulling her flush against him. She turned in his embrace, tilting her chin up to meet his gaze, and the look in his eyes made her breath catch. Slow. Intense. Calculated.
Then he kissed her.

It started sweet, teasing—just a gentle meeting of lips, a slow exploration. But as Enya melted into him, as her fingers tangled in his hair, as her soft sighs turned into quiet whimpers, Jayden’s restraint began to slip.
His hands slid up her back, gripping her closer, and before she could register what was happening, he lifted her onto the kitchen counter.
She gasped as he parted her thighs, settling between them, his mouth never leaving hers. The kiss deepened, his tongue sweeping against hers in a way that made her toes curl. His hands moved to the buttons of her blouse, undoing them one by one until the fabric slipped from her shoulders.
Jayden pulled back just enough to take her in. The way she looked—bare before him, breathless, eyes heavy with need—sent a shiver down his spine.
“You’re beautiful,” he murmured, voice thick with reverence.

Enya flushed under his gaze, but before she could respond, his lips were on her again—this time trailing down the curve of her jaw, her collarbone, lower still. He avoided her throat, mindful of the bruises, instead lavishing attention on the swell of her breasts.
His hands cupped them, thumbs flicking over her nipples as his mouth followed suit. He kissed, licked, sucked—drawing soft moans from her lips with every movement.
Enya arched into him, fingers tightening in his hair. “Jay…”
His only response was a quiet hum against her skin before he continued downward, his mouth mapping a path over her stomach, along the curve of her waist, until he reached the waistband of her sleep shorts.
He hooked his fingers beneath them, pulling them down slowly, deliberately, until she was completely bare before him.
And then, without hesitation, he devoured her.

The first stroke of his tongue had her head falling back against the cabinets, a sharp gasp leaving her lips. Jayden worked her expertly—long, slow drags of his tongue, teasing flicks against the most sensitive part of her, his grip firm on her thighs as he held her open for him.
Enya writhed beneath his touch, her breaths coming in ragged gasps as the pleasure built higher, higher—until finally, it snapped.
She cried out as the orgasm tore through her, her body trembling in his hold. But Jayden wasn’t done.
Before she could recover, his fingers joined the fray—sliding inside her with ease, curling just right as his mouth returned to its place between her thighs.
The second orgasm hit harder.

So hard that a strangled moan escaped her lips as she felt herself come undone completely—her body giving in, her release coating Jayden’s lips, his tongue, his face.
He groaned against her, drinking in every last drop, his grip tightening as he rode out her pleasure.
By the time he pulled back, Enya was a trembling mess, her chest rising and falling rapidly.
Jayden straightened, wiping the corner of his mouth with the back of his hand before smirking down at her. “Satisfied now, darling?”
Enya could barely form words, her body still pulsing with aftershocks.
Jayden chuckled, pressing a lingering kiss to her thigh before standing to his full height. He leaned in, brushing a final, teasing kiss against her lips.
“You wanted to be spoiled,” he murmured. “I hope I didn’t disappoint.”

**

Enya lay in Jayden’s arms, his fingers absentmindedly running through her hair. The TV played quietly in the background, but neither of them was paying attention. The silence between them wasn’t uncomfortable this time—it felt more like a safe space where words could slowly take shape.
“Jay?” Enya’s voice was soft, careful.
“Mhm?”
“I’ve been thinking.” She lifted her head slightly to look at him. “About us. About our conversation before you left for America.”
Jayden didn’t tense, but Enya could feel the subtle shift in his breathing. His hand in her hair stilled.
“The conversation about kids,” she added gently.
He sighed, leaning his head against the couch. “I figured this would come up eventually.”

Enya sat up a little, studying his face. “I know that was a huge shock for you. But I want you to know that I’ve thought about it a lot. And I think… you have too, haven’t you?”
Jayden gave a small nod. “More than I care to admit.”
“You talked to Liam and Daniel about it, didn’t you?”
His brow lifted in surprise. “How do you know that?”
She smiled softly. “Because you’ve never been good at keeping things like this completely to yourself.”
Jayden let out a quiet huff. “Yeah… I did. Especially with Danny. And he told me something that really helped me see things differently.”
Curious, Enya leaned closer. “What was it?”
His blue eyes met hers, steady and thoughtful. Then he quoted, “‘Either you accept Enya’s stance and learn to live with it, or you take a different path.’”

Enya held her breath.
Jayden ran a hand through his hair. “I knew he was right. I knew I had to make a choice.”
Maybe his voice sounded colder than he intended because Enya suddenly felt her stomach tighten. Her heartbeat pounded in her chest as she feared what decision he had made.
Jayden noticed her tension. His fingers found her hand, holding it firmly.
“I chose you, Enya.” His voice was soft, but firm. “You mean more to me than anything else in this world. And if that means living a life without kids, then so be it. I would rather never be a father than lose you.”
Enya blinked as emotions welled up inside her. Relief, gratitude, and something deeper made her chest tighten, and her eyes burned. “Jay…”

He pulled her into him, his hand stroking her back in a soothing motion. “It’s okay, Darling.”
She took a deep breath, resting against him, before whispering, “I said things back then that may have come across very differently than I meant them to. And I’m sorry for that.”
Jayden shook his head. “You don’t have to apologize.”
“Yes, I do.” She lifted her gaze, locking eyes with him. “Because I want you to understand me. If I ever did get pregnant by accident, I would want us to sit down and together decide whether it’s the right moment for us. And if it is… then I would be the happiest woman in the world to have your child.”
Jayden stared at her. For a moment, he didn’t say anything, as if he needed to process her words. Then, a small, genuine smile appeared on his lips.
“Thank you for telling me that.”
He pulled her close again, and this time, the silence between them was filled with understanding.

**

The sun hung low in the sky, casting a golden glow over the sprawling park as Enya and Jayden strolled hand in hand along the winding paths. The air was crisp but not cold, carrying the fresh scent of early spring. The distant laughter of children echoed around them, mingling with the rustling of leaves in the gentle breeze.
Ahead of them, Gremlin tore across the grass, ears flopping wildly as he chased after the tennis ball Jayden had just thrown. The dog skidded to a stop, snatched the ball up in his mouth, and trotted back proudly, tail wagging. Jayden took it from him with a chuckle and ruffled the pup’s ears.
“You’re such a little show-off,” he muttered, winding up to throw the ball again.

Enya squeezed his hand and leaned into him slightly as they continued walking at an unhurried pace. Everything felt easy. Light. Like the world had finally decided to give them a moment to just exist without chaos or heartbreak. They talked about nothing in particular—music, random childhood memories, a debate over which cereal was superior. Jayden’s laughter was warm and genuine, and Enya found herself memorizing the sound, tucking it away like a treasured keepsake.
At some point, they stumbled upon a small ice cream stand nestled under a canopy of budding cherry blossoms. The air smelled of sugar and vanilla, and the bright display of flavors was impossible to resist.
“I’m getting chocolate,” Enya announced decisively.
“Boring,” Jayden teased, scanning the options. “I’m thinking… caramel fudge.”
“You always pick the messiest one.”
“I do not.”

Enya gave him a knowing look, and Jayden rolled his eyes before ordering his ice cream. As predicted, it took less than two minutes for a glob of melting caramel to land on his shirt.
“Unbelievable,” Enya snorted, biting into her own ice cream. “You need a bib. Or better coordination.”
Jayden flicked his gaze to her with an arched brow. “You need to stop talking before I shove your ice cream into your face.”
“Ooo, so scary,” she taunted playfully.
Before Jayden could retaliate, Gremlin—who had been watching their exchange with intense focus—decided to leap up and enthusiastically headbutt Jayden’s leg. The impact sent him stumbling a step backward, his arms flailing slightly for balance. Enya nearly choked on her ice cream from laughing so hard.

Jayden slowly turned to glare at the dog, who sat down innocently, panting as if he hadn’t just betrayed his master.
“Et tu, Gremlin?” Jayden muttered, narrowing his eyes.
Enya wiped a tear from her eye. “That was the best thing I’ve ever seen.”
They finished their ice cream while lazily meandering through the park, eventually settling onto an empty bench beneath the soft shade of a tree. Gremlin flopped onto the ground at their feet with a contented sigh, his tail thumping occasionally.
Enya sighed as well, nestling against Jayden’s side, her head resting on his shoulder. “It feels like everything is exactly how it’s supposed to be,” she murmured.
Jayden pressed a kiss to her temple. “Mmm. Almost suspiciously so.”
She let out a quiet laugh. “Right? Like the calm before the storm.”

He made a thoughtful hum, staring dramatically into the sky. “Any minute now, a long-lost twin I never knew about is gonna show up and challenge me to a guitar duel.”
“Or Gremlin will reveal he’s secretly an ancient god.”
Jayden glanced down at the dog, who was currently licking his own paw with zero concern for anything. “Highly unlikely, but not impossible.”
Enya smiled, closing her eyes as she simply enjoyed the moment. No worries, no doubts, just the steady rhythm of Jayden’s breathing and the warmth of his arm around her.

The rest of the evening unfolded with the same ease. When they got home, Jayden picked up his guitar and strummed idly while Enya lay curled against him on the couch. The soft hum of the strings was hypnotic, lulling her into a peaceful state.
Somewhere between one note and the next, she drifted off, her head resting on his chest. Jayden glanced down, a small smile tugging at his lips. He carefully set the guitar aside and pulled a blanket over both of them, pressing one last kiss to the top of her head before closing his eyes.
For now, everything was perfect.

Chapter Text

Michael sat with his back against the headboard, his hands lazily running up and down Lexy’s back as she straddled him, moving at her own, torturously slow pace. He let his head fall back against the wall, exhaling sharply through his nose as he fought against the urge to grip her hips and set a faster rhythm himself.
"You’re enjoying this, aren’t you, Nyx?" he murmured, voice thick with amusement and restrained hunger.
Lexy smirked against his lips before kissing him deeply, her fingers tangling in his hair as she rolled her hips a little harder, testing him. "What, you don’t like it when I take my time?"
Michael chuckled darkly, his teeth grazing her bottom lip. "Oh, I love it," he admitted, sliding his hands down to cup her ass, squeezing just enough to make her gasp. "But let’s not pretend you don’t want more."

Lexy shivered, her body instinctively pressing closer to his. He was right. She was holding herself back, scared to lose control—but Michael wasn’t having it. He kissed her jaw, her throat, trailing open-mouthed kisses down to her collarbone.
"Just let go," he murmured against her skin, his lips warm and soft but his voice commanding. "Feel me."
A sharp inhale left her lips as she moved against him with more urgency, the knot in her stomach winding tighter and tighter. Michael could feel it—could feel the way she clenched around him, the way her nails dug into his shoulders. He was so close to breaking her, to making her fall apart in his arms—

Then, a scream.
A scream so raw, so full of terror that it cut through the moment like a blade.
Lexy’s body went rigid. Michael’s eyes snapped open.
"Liam," she choked out.
The fear in her voice was so visceral that Michael barely had time to react before she pushed herself off him so suddenly that pain shot through his chest where her nails had accidentally scratched him.
"Fuck—Lex!" he hissed, wincing at the sting, but she wasn’t even listening. She was already scrambling to pull on the first thing she could find, her fingers shaking as she yanked a hoodie over her head.

Michael, still catching his breath, ran a hand through his sweat-dampened hair, fighting back his own frustration. But when he saw the sheer panic in her eyes, the way she was already halfway out the door, all of that melted away.
"Lexy, wait—"
She was gone.
Michael swore under his breath, shoving his hands through his hair before reaching for his own clothes. Whatever had just happened to Liam... it wasn’t good. And the sick feeling curling in his gut told him this was about to change everything.
And not in a good way.

Lexy stumbled into the hallway, her breath coming in short, panicked gasps. Her pulse roared in her ears as she took in the sight before her—Liam, kneeling on the floor, his hands moving erratically through the air as if trying to grasp something invisible. His face was twisted in distress, his lips trembling as fragmented words tumbled out of his mouth.
She rushed toward him, reaching out, about to shake him awake—
And then he spoke.
"Lex, stay with me. Please!"
Her entire body locked up.
She hovered there, torn between waking him and trying to understand what was happening inside his head. He was dreaming—no, reliving something. The realization sent ice crawling down her spine.

Then Liam’s voice cracked, his next words spilling out in a desperate plea.
"Why did you do that? Please, hold on, Lex, help is coming. Fuck, I need you!"
Her heart stopped.
This wasn’t just any nightmare. It was that night. The night she tried to take her own life.
A sharp, crushing weight pressed against her chest as memories she had buried deep came crashing down on her. The desperation. The blade in her hand. The suffocating darkness. And that song—his song—echoing through her mind like a twisted lullaby.
They won't be missing you…
The words slithered through her brain, wrapping around her like chains, dragging her back into that moment.
She couldn’t breathe.

The walls were closing in, her vision tunneling, hands trembling as she pressed them against her temples. Not now. Not now. Not now. But it was too late—the panic attack hit her like an avalanche, crushing her beneath its weight.
Suddenly, strong hands cupped her face, forcing her to look up. Michael.
"Lex," his voice was steady, unwavering, grounding. "Breathe. Go sit down in the living room, okay? Just breathe. You hear me?"
His calmness cut through the noise, through the chaos.
Lexy nodded numbly, her legs feeling like jelly as she turned and staggered toward the living room, barely aware of her own movements.
Michael exhaled sharply before turning back to Liam, who was still kneeling on the floor, shaking. He crouched down beside him, gripping his shoulders firmly.

"Liam, wake up. It’s just a nightmare. You’re okay."
Liam flinched violently, his entire body jolting as if he had been yanked out of another world. His breath hitched, his unfocused, glassy eyes darting around until they finally landed on Michael.
A beat of silence.
Then the realization set in.
His expression crumbled.
"Oh no… not again," he whispered hoarsely, his voice filled with something between exhaustion and helplessness. He let his head fall into his hands, fingers digging into his scalp. "Is this ever going to stop?"

His breathing was shallow, his shoulders trembling as if he were struggling to anchor himself in reality.
“I…” His voice cracked. Then, barely more than a whisper, “I can’t take this anymore, Mikey…”
Michael crouched beside him, his eyes scanning Liam’s face. He saw the sheen of sweat on his forehead, the way his fingers twitched, the sheer exhaustion in his expression.
“It’s not getting better,” Liam murmured. “I… I don’t know if it ever will.”
Michael exhaled slowly, running a hand through his dark curls before speaking with calm determination. “It will. But you have to tell Carter about this, Liam. This—” He gestured vaguely around the hallway, at the invisible remnants of Liam’s nightmare. “—this is just a phase. We'll get this under control once you take your meds again.”

Liam barely nodded. Then, hesitantly, he lifted his head, his green eyes glassy. “Did I…?” He swallowed hard. “Did I scare Lexy?”
Michael’s jaw tightened. He wanted to lie. To say it was nothing, that Lexy had shaken it off easily. But Liam knew him too well.
“She’ll be fine,” Michael deflected, holding Liam’s gaze.
A bitter smile ghosted over Liam’s lips. “So that’s a yes.”
Michael didn’t respond. Instead, he reached out, squeezing Liam’s shoulder—a silent reassurance, a wordless I’m here.
After a long pause, Michael sighed. “Come on, mate. Let’s get you to bed.”

Liam let himself be pulled up, swayed slightly, but steadied himself quickly. Without another word, he followed Michael to his bedroom, sitting heavily on the edge of the mattress. He rubbed his face with both hands, voice muffled as he muttered, “I hate this.”
“I know.”
Michael waited until Liam slid under the blankets, then tugged the comforter up a little higher and patted his leg once. “Get some sleep, Li. I’ll stay for a bit.”
Liam rolled onto his side, mumbling into the pillow, “Thanks.”
Michael sat beside him for a while, listening to the way his breathing slowly evened out. He stayed just long enough to be sure Liam was truly asleep. Then, without a word, he settled onto the chair beside the bed—keeping watch, keeping him safe. Just being there.

After a while Michael entered the living room quietly, his steps cautious as he approached the couch. Lexy sat there, motionless, her hands resting on her lap, fingers curled so tightly that her knuckles had turned white. Her gaze was fixed on a distant point, unfocused, unseeing.
Michael exhaled through his nose. He’d seen her like this before—locked in memories, trapped in the past.
“Lex,” he called softly, lowering himself onto the couch beside her.
She didn’t react.
His brows furrowed. Gently, he reached out, fingertips grazing her forearm. “Alexandria.” His voice was firmer now, grounding.

Lexy flinched. A shudder ran through her, and her breath hitched audibly as she finally blinked—once, twice—before turning her head slightly, like she was just now realizing he was there.
“There you are,” Michael murmured. He kept his touch light, non-threatening. “Come back to me, Nyx.”
Lexy swallowed hard. She was still trembling, her body stiff, but her eyes—those stormy grey eyes—were regaining focus. He could see the gears in her head shifting, see her fighting to pull herself out of whatever hell her mind had just dragged her through.
Michael didn’t rush her. He just stayed close, steady, warm. “You're safe,” he reassured her. “Everything's okay. Liam’s okay. You’re okay.”
A shaky breath left her lips. Slowly, her fingers uncurled from her lap, lifting hesitantly—like she wasn’t sure if she was allowed to reach out.
Michael didn’t make her ask. He simply opened his arms.

Lexy didn’t hesitate anymore. She moved into him, curling herself into his chest as though she could disappear into his warmth. One hand clutched at his shirt, the other slipping around his back, her breathing shallow but slowly evening out.
Michael held her without a word. He let her take what she needed, let her bury herself in his embrace, let her ground herself in the steady rise and fall of his chest.
Her forehead pressed against his neck, and he felt the ghost of a breath against his skin.
For a long moment, neither of them spoke.
Michael tightened his arms around her, resting his chin lightly against her hair. “I got you,” he murmured. “Just breathe.”

They sat there, wrapped in each other, for what felt like an eternity. Neither of them spoke, neither moved. Michael could feel Lexy’s breathing against his neck, the way it had finally steadied, the way her fingers had loosened their grip on his shirt.
For a moment, he allowed himself to believe that she was okay.
But then he asked, “What did Liam say?”
Lexy tensed instantly. She stiffened in his arms, and before Michael could say anything else, she pulled away—abruptly, almost violently, as though his question had burned her.
“I… I need a minute,” she muttered. Or maybe it was an apology. He wasn’t sure.
And before he could stop her, she was gone, disappearing into the bathroom and shutting the door behind her.
Michael sighed, rubbing his hand over his face.
He debated following her. His hand even twitched, hovering near the doorframe, but in the end, he didn’t knock. He knew better than to push her when she was like this.
So he waited.

Inside, Lexy braced herself against the sink, her fingers digging into the cold porcelain. She forced herself to look up, to meet her own gaze in the mirror.
She barely recognized herself.
Her face was pale, her pupils blown wide, her lips pressed into a thin, bloodless line.
She turned on the faucet, splashed cold water onto her skin. Deep breaths. Slow. In. Out. But her heart was still racing, the weight of the past clawing at her like a living thing.
She knew Michael was standing outside.
She could feel his presence, steady and unwavering, just like always.
Lexy squeezed her eyes shut.
She didn’t deserve him. Didn’t deserve his patience, his kindness, the way he always stayed even when she ran.
And then, softly, his voice.

“Alexandria, please come out.” His tone was gentle, almost pleading. “If you don’t want to talk about it, that’s okay. You know I’d never force you to give me something you’re not ready to. But please… don’t shut me out.”
Lexy’s throat tightened.
She wanted to pretend she hadn’t heard him. She wanted to pretend she was fine.
But she wasn’t. And he knew it.
Old habits were hard to break.
She exhaled shakily, quickly splashed more water on her face, then straightened her spine and opened the door.
“Let’s just go to bed,” she said quietly.
Michael studied her for a moment, then nodded. He didn’t push, didn’t argue. He simply placed a hand on the small of her back and led her toward the bedroom.

Lexy climbed under the covers, turning onto her side, away from him.
She didn’t expect him to follow.
But he did.
Michael slid in behind her, warm and solid, wrapping an arm around her waist. He intertwined their fingers, his grip steady, grounding. He didn’t say anything. Didn’t expect anything.
He was just there.
Lexy swallowed hard, her chest aching.
She didn’t deserve this.
Didn’t deserve him.
But as exhaustion pulled her under, her last thought was the same as it had been for years.
I love you.

Chapter Text

When Enya woke up, she felt movement behind her. Her sleepy mind took a moment to catch up, to register the warmth pressed up against her back, the solid weight of an arm draped over her waist. Jayden.
She barely had time to smile before she felt it—his cock, already hard, rubbing slowly against the curve of her ass.
A breathy sigh betrayed her before she could stop it. Jayden huffed softly against her neck, the sound filled with amusement, like he’d just caught her red-handed.
"Good morning, darling," he murmured, his voice rough with sleep and something deeper—something undeniably needy.
Enya turned her head slightly, just enough to see the shadow of his face in the dim light. "Hey," she whispered back, only for him to dip down and press a lingering kiss to her cheek.
Before he could pull away, she caught his jaw in her hand, guiding his lips to hers. The kiss was deep, lazy, filled with warmth and the slow burn of desire. Jayden let out a low, satisfied hum when she finally broke away.

"Someone's needy," she teased, arching her hips back against him, deliberately pressing against his length.
"For you, always," he whispered, his lips tracing along her shoulder before sinking his teeth into her skin—just enough to make her gasp.
The sound sent a sharp jolt through him, his cock twitching against her thighs.
"So much for 'You need to rest,'" she murmured, barely able to hold back a grin.
Jayden only chuckled, nudging his cock between her thighs, sliding against her in a slow, almost lazy rhythm. The sensation sent a shiver up her spine.
"Maybe this is just a dream," he teased, voice dripping with mischief. "It's still dark outside, after all."

For a moment, the movement stopped. She heard the quiet creak of a drawer opening, the rustle of something being retrieved.
Curiosity flickered in her mind. What the hell is he up to now?
Before she could ask, she felt him pull back, slipping free from the heat of her thighs. A flash of disappointment sparked in her chest, but then—
The faint click of a bottle being opened.
Jayden almost smirked at the way Enya tensed slightly, like she was trying to piece together what he was planning.
Yeah, exactly like that, he thought with dark satisfaction, tipping the small bottle over his palm and letting a generous amount of lube spill onto his fingers before stroking it over his cock.
This needs to be just right—nice and slippery, so it glides perfectly.
He worked the gel over himself with slow, deliberate movements, relishing the slick warmth, the way anticipation curled low in his stomach.
Enya had no idea what he was about to do.
And fuck, he couldn't wait to see the look on her face when she figured it out.

Jayden stroked himself one last time, making sure he was thoroughly coated in the slick warmth before positioning himself back between Enya’s thighs. This time, he pressed in higher, his cock gliding not only between the soft press of her thighs but also against the aching heat of her pussy.
The added lubrication made everything so much better. The friction, the heat—it was unbearable in the best way.
A choked moan slipped from Enya’s lips, her hips twitching instinctively toward him. Holy fuck, that feels good.
But also—
It’s not enough.
She wanted him inside, stretching her open, filling her completely. But Jayden, the teasing bastard, kept toying with her, moving in slow, deliberate thrusts that left her desperate for more.
It was sweet torture, and she hated how much she loved it.
Jayden, on the other hand, was in heaven. The slick glide of his cock between her thighs, the way her soaked folds clung to him with every stroke—it was almost too much.
His pace quickened, hips rolling into her with steady, insistent thrusts. Each motion sent jolts of pleasure through them both, their breathing growing heavier, needier.
Then he heard it.
That sound.
The impatient, desperate little whimper Enya made when she was right on the edge of losing it.
Perfect.

His grip on her hip tightened, his movements slowing just slightly—not to ease up, but to prepare.
A sharp thrust, pushing his cock even deeper between her thighs.
A silent thank you to whatever higher power had ensured that Enya wasn’t wearing panties tonight, because otherwise—
This wouldn’t work.
With one hand, he grasped his cock as he pulled back, adjusting the angle ever so slightly.
And then—
He slammed into her in one deep, fluid motion.
A sharp gasp. A strangled moan.
"Oh fuuuuuck, Jayden!"
Her voice was pure, unfiltered pleasure, and fuck, that sound alone nearly finished him right there.
Jayden groaned against her neck, his fingers digging into her hip as he buried himself to the hilt, savoring the way her walls clenched around him, hot and wet and so fucking tight.
God, yes.
This was exactly where he wanted to be.

Jayden barely had time to savor the way she clenched around him before something primal took over.
Something raw. Possessive.
His fingers tightened on her hip, and without warning, he pushed her forward.
Enya barely had time to gasp before she found herself pressed flat against the mattress, her cheek against the pillow, breath hitching as Jayden’s body covered hers completely.
He caged her in, his weight pinning her down, the hard muscles of his chest and stomach pressing against her back. His cock pulsed deep inside her, twitching as he exhaled a low, almost feral groan against her ear.
"Fuck, baby… you feel so good."
The words were rough, almost slurred with lust. He couldn’t get enough of her—her warmth, her scent, the way her body fit so perfectly beneath his.
And fuck, she was trapped.
His hands slid up her arms, fingers lacing through hers before pinning them above her head, his grip firm, inescapable.
"Jayden—"
Her voice was breathless, needy.
He loved that sound.

Loved knowing that she was completely at his mercy, that she wanted to be.
A dark, wicked grin curled his lips.
"That’s it, love," he murmured, rocking his hips forward in a slow, teasing thrust that made her whole body tremble beneath him. "Let me hear you."
Then he snapped his hips forward, driving into her with enough force to make the bed creak.
Enya gasped, her fingers curling beneath his as a choked moan left her lips.
Jayden groaned at the way she clenched around him, his cock throbbing at the perfect mix of resistance and slick heat. Fuck, she was tight.
And now?
Now, she was his.
Completely at his mercy.
And he was going to ruin her.

Jayden could feel it—this insatiable, almost animalistic need to claim her, to take her so deeply she’d still feel him long after the night was over. The way she moaned beneath him, her body trembling and yielding to his every thrust, only spurred him on.
He had her completely pinned—his weight pressing her into the mattress, his hands gripping hers above her head, fingers laced together as if silently reminding her who she belonged to in this moment. His breath was hot against her ear, lips brushing over her sweat-damp skin as he drove into her with deep, ruthless strokes.
“Fuck, Enya,” he growled, his voice ragged with lust. “You feel so goddamn perfect like this.”
She whimpered, back arching slightly despite the weight of him keeping her caged. Every movement, every desperate attempt to push back against him, only made him snap his hips harder. The wet, obscene sounds of their bodies meeting filled the room, mixing with the breathless cries escaping her lips.

She was so close—he could feel it in the way her walls fluttered around him, the way her body shook underneath him. And fuck, he was close too. He buried his face in her neck, biting down just hard enough to make her whine.
“That’s it, baby,” he rasped, losing himself in the tight, wet heat of her. “Come for me. Let me feel you—”
Her body shattered beneath him, a strangled, needy moan ripping from her throat as she fell apart. And that was all it took—Jayden slammed into her one last time, growling as he emptied himself deep inside her, his entire body locking up as pleasure crashed over him like a tidal wave.
For a moment, they were utterly lost—breathing hard, tangled together in sweat and heat and the overwhelming high of their release.
But this? Oh, this was only the beginning.

Jayden didn’t rush as he shifted, his strong arms wrapping around her to guide her onto her back. His touch had changed—where before he had been all raw, desperate need, now there was something almost reverent in the way his hands roamed over her heated skin.
Enya’s breath hitched as he settled between her legs, his weight pressing her into the mattress, but this time it wasn’t about dominance. It was about something deeper. He cupped her face, thumb brushing over her swollen lips before he leaned down, capturing them in a slow, lingering kiss.
She could still feel the aftermath of their first release—her body sensitive, already thrumming with anticipation as Jayden aligned himself with her again. When he pushed back inside, it was excruciatingly slow, stretching her inch by inch until he was buried to the hilt.

Enya moaned into his mouth, her fingers threading into his damp hair, pulling him even closer. This wasn’t just sex. This was him, letting her feel every inch, every pulse, every shiver of pleasure.
“Fucking hell,” Jayden breathed against her lips, his voice low, reverent. “You’re so perfect.”
His thrusts were slow, deep—torturously deliberate. He was making love to her, drawing out every second, every sensation, until Enya felt like she was floating between pleasure and something far more dangerous—something intimate.
Their bodies moved together in perfect rhythm, every stroke sending waves of electricity through her limbs. His hands never stopped moving—tracing her sides, gripping her hips, tilting her just right so he could sink even deeper. His lips found her jaw, her neck, her collarbone—worshipping her with every kiss, every whispered moan of her name.

She was spiraling, overwhelmed by the contrast—how he could be so rough one moment and so unbearably tender the next. The coil of pleasure inside her wound tighter and tighter, each slow, deliberate movement pushing her closer to the edge.
Jayden must have felt it too because his thrusts grew just a fraction deeper, a fraction more desperate, his breathing ragged against her throat.
“Come with me,” he murmured, voice wrecked, almost pleading.
And when he finally reached between them, his fingers finding her clit with the lightest, cruelest touch—Enya shattered.
Her orgasm ripped through her like a slow-burning fire, stealing her breath as she clenched around him, pulling him under with her. Jayden groaned, his body tensing as he buried himself deep, spilling into her with a shuddering moan of her name.
They stayed like that, wrapped up in each other, panting, shaking, drowning in the aftershocks of something that felt far too big to contain.

Jayden groaned as he finally pulled out, still catching his breath as he hovered above her. But then he glanced down, eyes darkening as he took in the mess he had left between her thighs.
A slow, knowing smirk curled at his lips as he flicked his gaze back to Enya. One brow lifted in clear challenge.
Enya’s stomach dropped. She knew exactly what that look meant.
“Oh no,” she said immediately, attempting to snap her legs shut. “No, no, no—you are not about to—"
Jayden moved fast. One strong hand caught her chin, tilting her face up as he leaned in close, his breath hot against her lips.
"Darling," he rasped, his voice a sinful mix of amusement and pure, unfiltered hunger. "Just because your legs are shaking doesn't mean I'm done eating."
Enya whimpered. God fucking damn it.
Her resolve crumbled instantly. She groaned, rolling her eyes even as her thighs parted for him once more. “I hate you,” she muttered breathlessly.
Jayden grinned. “No, you don’t.”
And then he was gone—disappearing between her legs like a man on a mission.

The first swipe of his tongue against her oversensitive core had her jerking, a strangled gasp escaping her lips. It was too much. She was already so sensitive, overstimulated, but Jayden was relentless, determined, lapping up every trace of himself with wicked precision.
He groaned against her, his grip tightening on her hips as he held her open, savoring every moan, every tremble. His tongue moved slow and deliberate, teasing, torturing, his fingers joining the assault as he curled them inside her, coaxing out new, wrecked sounds from deep in her chest.
Enya was falling apart. Her body writhed beneath him, hands clutching at the sheets as wave after wave of unbearable pleasure crashed over her.
And just when she thought she might lose herself entirely—

"Did you like it?"
Her hazy mind barely registered his words, lost in the haze of his mouth and fingers until—until she processed them.
She blinked down at him, dazed. “W-What?”
Jayden lifted his head just slightly, chin glistening, eyes burning into hers. His fingers inside her never stopped moving, slow and deep.
"The night you let Liam fuck your ass," he murmured, voice low, testing. "Did you like it?"
Enya’s breath caught.
A rush of heat flared across her skin, but it wasn’t embarrassment—it was something darker.

She swallowed hard, pulse hammering. Jayden’s gaze held hers, patient but devastatingly intense. He wasn’t judging. He wasn’t teasing.
He was waiting.
And God help her, she couldn’t lie.
“…Yes,” she whispered.
That was all he needed.
Jayden smirked.
He didn’t ask for permission. He didn’t need to.
Instead, his fingers shifted—one slick fingertip pressing against the forbidden entrance, teasing, preparing. His mouth descended on her once more, his tongue working sinful magic while his hands explored exactly what he now intended to claim.

By the time Jayden had her on all fours—ass up, back arched, her face buried in the sheets—she was already begging.
"Please," she whimpered, her voice wrecked, desperate.
Jayden groaned, gripping her hips so tightly that his fingertips sank into her skin. Fuck, she was perfect like this.
"You want it, darling?" His voice was low, teasing, but dripping with primal hunger.
"God, yes—”
He didn’t make her wait any longer.
The first push was slow, careful, stretching her inch by inch until he was buried deep. She trembled under him, keening at the sheer filthy fullness of it. Jayden clenched his jaw, forcing himself to start slow, to let her adjust.
But when she relaxed around him?
He ruined her.

His grip on her hips tightened as he pulled back and slammed in again, setting a pace that was ruthless—deep, relentless, each thrust dragging broken moans from her throat. He was drunk on the way she took him, on the sounds she made, on the way she pushed back against him like she needed to be wrecked.
And just when she thought she couldn’t take any more—
Jayden reached over to the nightstand.
She barely registered the movement until she felt something press against her achingly overstimulated clit.
"Oh fuck—"
Before she could even comprehend what was happening, he turned it on.
The vibrations hit her like a shockwave.
A strangled scream tore from her lips, her body jerking violently as the relentless pulses of the Satisfyer shattered her composure.

Jayden growled. "Oh, you like that, darling?" His voice was strained, nearly as wrecked as hers.
Enya could barely breathe. It was too much. Too intense. The deep thrusts, the vibration, the way he owned every inch of her body—it was an overload of pleasure so powerful it bordered on agony.
Her fingers clawed at the sheets, her body locking up as the orgasm slammed into her with devastating force.
And then—
She broke.
The pressure that had been building erupted. A cry ripped from her throat as her body convulsed, pleasure crashing through her like a violent wave—and then, she squirted, uncontrollably, a rush of release soaking Jayden’s thighs, the sheets, everything.
"Holy fuck—" Jayden choked out, gripping her hips harder, thrusting deeper, losing himself in the absolute mess of her pleasure.
And that was it.

With a guttural groan, he buried himself deep one last time and came hard, spilling into her as his body shuddered violently, every muscle tensing before he collapsed forward, completely spent.
For a moment, neither of them moved.
The only sound in the room was their ragged breathing, their bodies tangled in sweat and blissful exhaustion.
Finally, Jayden managed a hoarse, breathless chuckle against her shoulder.
"Four."
Enya groaned, half-laughing, half-destroyed. "Shut the fuck up, Jayden."

**

As the aftershocks of pleasure slowly faded, Enya lay still beneath Jayden, completely spent, her body boneless and trembling. The weight of him, the heat of his skin, the steady rhythm of his breathing—it was perfect. Too perfect.
And suddenly, without warning, her eyes burned.
She tried to blink it away, but the overwhelming rush of emotions—the love, the intensity, the sheer depth of what had just happened—was too much.
A silent tear slipped down her cheek.
Jayden felt it before he saw it, the way her breath hitched, the way her body shuddered beneath him. Immediately, he pushed himself up on shaky arms, concern flooding his gaze.
"Hey—" His voice was gentle, raw from the night’s sins. He cupped her face, brushing his thumb over the dampness on her cheek. "Darling, did I—was that too much?"

His brows knitted together, guilt creeping in. Had he been too rough? Too lost in the moment?
Enya let out a small, breathless laugh, shaking her head.
"No, no—Jayden, it’s not that." Her voice wavered, and she sucked in a shaky breath, trying to steady herself. "That was just…" She swallowed hard, eyes shining, and whispered, "The best night of my life."
Jayden’s expression softened instantly. Relief washed over his face, followed by something even deeper—a kind of reverence that made her heart ache.
He exhaled a quiet chuckle, pressing a slow, lingering kiss to her sweaty forehead. "Jesus, you scared me for a second." His lips ghosted over her temple, then her cheek, then her lips, tender and unbelievably sweet.
"But I still need to take care of you, yeah?"
Before she could protest, he slipped out of bed—wincing slightly as exhaustion and pleasure pulled at his muscles.
"Don’t move, I got you."

Enya let herself sink into the mattress, watching as Jayden disappeared into the bathroom. When he returned, his arms were full—two bottles of water, a plate of snacks, a handful of cool, damp washcloths, and a clean sheet draped over his shoulder.
Her heart clenched.
"Jay…" She didn’t even know what to say.
But he just flashed her that signature grin, kissing her temple as he settled beside her. "Drink, love." He pressed a water bottle to her lips, watching her closely as she took a few careful sips.
Then, with ridiculous tenderness, he wiped her down—starting with her face, then her neck, then the sticky mess between her thighs. Every touch was deliberate, unhurried, a stark contrast to how wildly he had taken her just minutes before.
Once he was satisfied, he tugged at the rumpled, wet sheets, quickly replacing them with the fresh one before pulling her back into his arms.
She melted into him, completely enveloped in his warmth.
Outside, the first hints of sunrise painted the room in soft golds and pinks.
Jayden pressed his lips against her hair, murmuring against her scalp. "How are you feeling?"
Enya let out a long, contented sigh, nuzzling against his chest.
"Like I just had the best sex of my life."
Jayden chuckled, smug and satisfied. "Well, darling, I do love breaking records."
She swatted at him weakly, laughing into his skin, but her smile softened as she traced small circles on his back.
"Thank you," she whispered.
Jayden kissed her again—slow and full of everything words couldn’t say.
"Always."

Chapter Text

It was already late in the morning when Michael finally got up and started getting ready for the day. He had originally planned to spend the entire day with Jayden at the studio, working on the new album — which was now significantly behind schedule due to everything that had happened over the past year.

When he returned to the bedroom, he cast a glance at Lexy, still fast asleep. Exhaustion was written all over her face. Her tousled hair spilled across the pillow, her chest rising and falling with each breath — and he felt a faint tug in his chest.
The night had been intense. Emotionally. Physically.
Whatever Liam had said in his sleep had completely knocked her off balance. It had taken him forever to pull her out of her panic, and once she had calmed down, she’d shut herself off emotionally — the way she always did when she was overwhelmed.

Michael sighed quietly. He had been trying to reach her for so long now, offering everything he could to earn her trust. To get her to open up to him. But all his efforts seemed to vanish into thin air.
Would that ever change?
For a while, he had thought she felt the same way about him as he did about her. But then she'd made it more or less clear that he was just her fuckbuddy. A dirty little secret. A way to blow off steam when the pressure got too much. Michael wasn’t sure how much longer he could keep doing this.
In the end, she would never return his feelings — and he'd be left with a broken heart. So why keep holding on?
At some point, he would have to sit down and have a serious conversation about all of this.
But not now. Not today.
Right now, Lexy needed rest — time to recover from everything that had happened last night.

Michael heard sounds coming from the kitchen and figured it must be Liam, probably making breakfast. He took one last look at Lexy, gently brushing a strand of hair from her face, then quietly left the room, carefully closing the door behind him to give her the peace she so desperately needed.

In the kitchen, the smell of strong coffee hung in the air. Liam stood at the counter in nothing but sweatpants and a loose T-shirt, his hair a mess, eyes half-lidded with sleep, as he mindlessly stirred sugar into a steaming mug.
Michael leaned against the doorframe of the kitchen, quietly, arms crossed as he watched Liam shovel cereal into his mouth with that look on his face — the one that said "don’t even try to start small talk." Still, he gave it a shot.
"You ready for your appointment with Dr. Carter?" His voice was casual, like he wasn’t secretly gauging Liam’s emotional state every damn second.
Liam didn’t even look up. “I’m ready to leave this goddamn world if I have to. Does that count?”

Michael exhaled slowly through his nose. For most, it would’ve passed as a dark joke — a little dramatic flair to mask exhaustion. But Michael knew better. Knew the weight behind Liam’s words wasn’t all sarcasm. There was always that edge now, that quiet recklessness sitting just under the surface.
He didn’t say anything, though. Didn’t call him out. He knew Liam hated pity, hated being treated like glass. So instead, he just gave a crooked little smirk and nodded. “Close enough.”

He took a sip of water before setting the glass down. “Hey, listen... I know Lexy was supposed to take you to your appointment today, but I figured she could use a bit more rest after last night. So, I’ll drive you instead.”
Liam raised a brow but didn’t protest. “You sure? Thought you had studio plans with Jay.”
Michael shrugged. “Yeah, I did. But this feels more important right now. Besides, we’re all still playing catch-up from... well, everything.” He gave a pointed look, half joking, half serious.
Liam gave a small, sheepish chuckle. “Fair.”
There was a beat of silence between them, both nursing their drinks — one tired, one quietly observant.
“And hey,” Michael added, more gently now, “you don’t have to put on the brave face all the time. We’re not keeping score here.”
Liam just offered a faint smile. “I know.”
But deep down, the guilt simmered. Especially when it came to Lexy. And now Michael, too.
He hated lying to them. Hated how easy it had become.

**

The car ride was quiet, except for the gentle hum of the engine and the mellow guitar track playing from the speakers. Liam sat in the passenger seat, elbow resting against the door, his fingers drumming absently against his thigh. His gaze was distant, unfocused—like he wasn’t really seeing the streets of London passing by outside.
Michael threw a glance over. “You good?”
Liam gave a lazy shrug. “Peachy.”
Michael didn’t buy it. But he didn’t push. Not yet.
Instead, Liam pulled out his phone, unlocking it with a swipe of his thumb. He scrolled past a couple of unread messages until he got to the one that mattered.
Phantom.
The contact name alone made his lips twitch into a smirk. He tapped out a quick message.

Liam:
You alive?

Phantom:
Barely. Thought you’d forgotten me, sweetheart.
Missed our morning banter. 😩

Liam:
Didn’t forget. Just didn’t need anything.
But that’s changed.

Phantom:
Oho? Someone’s spiraling again.
Need your usual green, or are we playing in the big leagues today? 😜

Liam:
Looking for something stronger.
Something that keeps me up for a couple nights.

Phantom:
Mmm. Sugar it is.
How many bags?

Liam:
Three.

Phantom:
You throwing a rave I don’t know about? 🤔

Liam:
Not exactly. Just don’t feel like sleeping.

Phantom:
Figures.
Alright, sugar lips, usual spot at 3?

Liam:
Yeah. See you then.

Phantom:
Don’t die on me before that, yeah?
You’re one of my prettier clients. Would be a shame. 😜

Liam let the corner of his mouth twitch upward in amusement and locked his phone again just as Michael spoke.
“Anyone interesting?”
“Yeah,” Liam replied smoothly, without missing a beat. “Just a friend. We’re grabbing a quick drink after therapy, nothing special. You don’t have to wait or anything—go be Lexy’s emotional support.”
Michael raised an eyebrow but didn’t comment.
“Alright. Just don’t disappear on us, yeah?”
Liam flashed him a lopsided grin, all charm and deflection. “Would I ever?”
Michael didn’t answer. He just shifted gears and merged onto the next street, his gut telling him something wasn’t right—even if Liam wore the perfect mask.

**

The blinds were drawn halfway, letting in muted light that made the office feel more like a cocoon than a clinical space. Dr. Carter sat in his usual armchair, notebook on his lap, his pen resting between his fingers. Across from him, Liam slouched on the couch, hands buried in the pockets of his hoodie, shoulders tense beneath the fabric.
Carter watched him for a long moment before speaking.
“You look tired.”
Liam gave a half-shrug. “Didn’t sleep much.”
“Still having nightmares?”
A beat. Liam licked his lips. “Yeah. Last night was bad. Lexy again.”
Carter leaned forward slightly, his voice soft. “You want to talk about it?”

Liam hesitated, eyes flickering to the floor. “She killed herself. In the dream, I mean. I tried to stop her, but it was already too late. There was so much blood, and—”
His voice cracked, just slightly. “I couldn’t get it off my hands.”
Dr. Carter nodded slowly, taking a note. “Did you sleepwalk?”
“Yeah. Apparently. Michael said I freaked out. Screaming, sweating. But he managed to calm me down pretty quick, so… progress, right?”
Carter gave a small smile, though his eyes remained serious. “It’s something. But that kind of dream—it’s your subconscious trying to make sense of something deeply buried. You know that.”
Liam didn’t respond. He just rubbed his hands together, and Carter noticed the faint tremble in his fingers.
He reached over to the desk beside him, opening a small drawer and pulling out a prescription bottle.

“I think it’s time we consider restarting your medication,” he said, holding it out to Liam. “With a mild dose benzodiazepine. You’ll take half a tablet before bed. Every night.”
Liam raised an eyebrow, turning the bottle over in his hand. “Only half?”
“They’re strong. Too strong to mess around with. You take more than prescribed and it can knock you out for a day—or worse.”
Liam gave a short, humorless laugh. “Noted.”
Carter didn’t smile. “This isn’t a crutch. It’s support. But you have to stick to the dosage. No improvising, Liam. Promise me.”
Liam met his gaze, reluctantly. “Alright. I promise.”

Satisfied—for now—Carter sat back. “I also think we need to shift our therapeutic approach.”
“Shift how?”
“The talk therapy—it’s good for some. But in your case, it’s not enough. You’re keeping too much buried, and it’s festering. So I want to try exposure therapy.”
Liam frowned. “What the hell does that mean?”
“It means controlled confrontation. You face the things you’re avoiding. Memories. People. Situations. Not all at once, not recklessly—but deliberately. With guidance.”
“So… you want me to walk straight into the fire.”
“I want you to learn how to stop running from it.”
Liam leaned back, jaw tight. He didn’t say anything.
Carter watched him for a moment longer before closing his notebook.
“One more thing before you go.”

His voice had dropped, lower now. Calmer. “Be careful with yourself. I mean it. You’ve gotten good at hiding the damage, Liam—but I see it. And if I can see it, chances are the people who love you can too.”
Something in Liam’s expression twitched—just a flicker. He looked away.
“Whatever you’re carrying, it’s going to break you eventually. So unless you want to destroy everything good in your life—don’t wait until it’s too late to ask for help.”
Liam stood, grabbing the prescription bottle, stuffing it in his jacket pocket.
“I’m fine,” he muttered. “Always am.”
Carter didn’t argue. He just offered a parting nod. “We’ll see, won’t we?”

**

The city noise felt distant as Liam stepped out of Dr. Carter’s office.
Everything felt distant, actually.
Muted. Off.
People passed him on the sidewalk, moving fast, laughing, arguing, rushing—living. But Liam drifted through the crowd like smoke, Carter’s words still echoing in his skull.
You’ve gotten good at hiding the damage.
It’s going to break you eventually.
Don’t wait until it’s too late.
His fingers closed tighter around the bottle in his pocket. The little orange container felt like both a lifeline and a trap.

By the time he reached the alley behind the café in Shoreditch—their usual spot—his heartbeat had dulled into a quiet thump. He leaned against the wall, lit a cigarette with shaking hands and exhaled slowly, watching the smoke curl into the grey sky.
“Darling,” came a smooth voice behind him, “you look like shit.”
Liam didn’t turn around. “Morning, Phantom.”
A few footsteps, then Phantom appeared beside him. Dressed in tailored slacks and a pressed coat, he looked more like a corporate consultant than a drug dealer. His salt-and-pepper hair was perfectly styled, his scent expensive, and his smile lazy—dangerously so.
Phantom tilted his head, giving Liam a quick once-over. “Therapy went well, I take it?”
Liam let out a dry laugh. “Oh, yeah. Life-changing.”

“Well, you look like someone in desperate need of a pick-me-up.” Phantom leaned in, just enough to brush Liam’s arm. “Lucky for you, I’m in a giving mood.”
“Are you ever not?”
“Not when it comes to you, honey.”
Liam rolled his eyes but didn’t move away. Phantom took that as an invitation.
“So,” the older man purred, “same as we discussed? Three bags of Sugar?”
“Yeah. Strong shit I hope. I need it to knock the world out of focus.”
Phantom reached into the inner pocket of his tailored coat and pulled out a small, sealed bag. “Here you go, just the way you like it.”
Liam took it without a word, his grip a little too tight—like the plastic might dissolve under the pressure. His expression didn’t flicker.

“What do I owe you?” he asked, voice low and dry.
Phantom gave him a lazy grin. “Two-fifty. But hey—” He leaned in, tone dripping with faux innocence, “—you don’t have to pay me right now, baby. Maybe next time, when you're feeling... generous. I’m very open to alternative arrangements.”
Liam’s jaw tensed. He hated this game. Hated the veiled suggestions, the smug way Phantom always pushed boundaries just to see what he could get away with. But mostly, he hated how familiar it felt. Like he’d built his whole damn life surrounded by people who only saw his edges when they could use them.
“Just give me your PayPal,” he muttered, already pulling his phone out.
Phantom chuckled. “You’re so cold to me, dewdrop. It’s hot.”

Then, casually, he rattled off an email address that sounded boringly professional—something like wellness_consulting.ltd@... Liam typed it in, entered the amount, and hesitated a split second at the ‘Note’ section before typing:
Consulting services – urgent project assistance
He hit send. A second later, the little confirmation checkmark appeared. Money gone.
“You’re no fun today,” Phantom said, mock-pouting as he checked his notifications. “But damn if you’re not efficient.”
“Yeah,” Liam muttered, shoving the packet into his jacket. “I’m a fucking joy.”
Phantom didn’t stop smiling. “Try not to overdose before our next date, buttercup. You know where to find me.”
Liam didn’t answer. He was already turning away, his steps heavy and disconnected. Phantom watched him go with a smirk, lighting a cigarette he hadn’t even wanted—just to feel the pause of the moment stretch out a little longer.

Chapter Text

Lexy stirred awake sometime around midday, the weak February sunlight peeking through the curtains. Mikey’s side of the bed was cold – long since abandoned. She stretched groggily and rubbed her eyes before noticing the small note on the nightstand. His handwriting was easy to recognize.
“Took Liam to his session with Dr. Carter. Heading to the studio after. Don’t wait up or worry. Get some rest, okay? – M.”
Her heart ached as she folded the note back in half and placed it on her lap. She hadn't meant to fall apart like that last night. And she certainly hadn’t meant to shut him out again. But she had. Just like she always did when things got too real. Too close.

Dragging herself into the kitchen, she brewed a cup of coffee, clutching the warm mug like it might ground her. But her thoughts spiraled anyway.
The flashbacks from last night. The memory that had sent her crashing into a full-blown panic attack. The way Michael had held her, grounding her without asking for anything in return. And yet, she’d pushed him away again the second she could breathe.
She didn’t deserve him.
Hell, she didn’t deserve Liam either. Not after everything. The guilt clung to her ribs like vines, pulling tighter with every breath. She’d failed him so many times. Had been too blind, too self-absorbed, to see what he needed.
And Enya... god, sweet Ny-Ny. What had happened to her was something Lexy would never forgive herself for. She should’ve protected her. Should’ve seen the signs. Should’ve done something.

Her spiraling was broken by the front door creaking open. She blinked and turned, heart skipping a beat, expecting to see Michael.
But it wasn’t Michael.
Daniel stood in the doorway of the kitchen, looking like he’d just rolled out of a bar. His hair was a mess, his eyes bloodshot, and he wore the kind of dazed expression that suggested he hadn’t yet realized what time it was.
“Morning,” he mumbled, voice rough. “Where’s everyone? And... why you look like you’ve seen a ghost?”
Lexy didn’t answer immediately. She couldn’t meet his eyes. The concern in his voice was too much. Too close to unraveling her all over again.
Daniel blinked slowly, his brow furrowing as he took a few steps into the room. “Lex? What happened? Is Liam okay?”
She sighed, her voice barely above a whisper. “He had another nightmare. A bad one. Was sleepwalking again.”

Daniel paled slightly, sobering up just enough to understand the weight behind her words.
“Is he—?”
“He’s alright,” she cut in quickly. “Michael’s with him. Took him to see Dr. Carter.”
Daniel exhaled, a visible tension leaving his shoulders. “Good. That’s good.” He paused, swaying slightly. “I, uh... I think I need to lie down.”
Lexy gave a small nod and offered a half-hearted smile. “Yeah. Go sleep it off, Rockstar.”
He chuckled faintly, already heading toward the guest room.
Once the door shut behind him, Lexy exhaled shakily and took another sip of her coffee, still clutching the note like a lifeline.

After Daniel had disappeared into the guest room, Lexy lingered in the kitchen, sipping slowly from her coffee. The silence of the house wrapped itself around her like a blanket—one she wasn’t sure was comforting or suffocating.
Eventually, she stood and stretched, her limbs still a little heavy from the emotional hangover of the night before. She figured she should probably start getting ready. The plan had been to meet up with Liam after his therapy session and go apartment hunting together. Even if the idea of facing the outside world still felt a little overwhelming, she knew she couldn’t keep hiding in her pajamas all day.
She padded back to her room, threw on a pair of jeans and a loose sweater, then tied her hair back into a messy ponytail. A glance in the mirror told her she looked like someone who hadn’t slept well—and she hadn’t—but she gave herself a weak smile anyway. At least she was trying.

Back in the kitchen, she rummaged through the fridge and cabinets. Her stomach growled in protest, reminding her she hadn’t eaten anything since yesterday. She pulled out some eggs, bread, and a few vegetables. As she began preparing herself a modest brunch, she paused, glancing toward the guest room.
Daniel would wake up eventually. And when he did, he’d probably feel like death.
With a sigh, she doubled the portion and set about making a proper hangover breakfast for him too—scrambled eggs, toast, a little avocado, and some greasy veggie sausages she knew he liked. She plated his portion neatly and covered it, setting it aside for when he resurfaced from the depths of sleep and regret.

Just as she was about to sit down and eat, her phone buzzed on the counter. A message from Liam lit up the screen:
Liam:Sleeping Beauty, you awake yet or still waiting for true love’s kiss? Let me know when you’re ready for some questionable rental choices.
Lexy huffed a laugh, her fingers already moving across the screen.
Lexy:You sound unusually chipper for someone who kept me up all night. Should I come get you? Or are we meeting somewhere?
His reply came almost instantly:
Liam:Meet me at “Maple & Bloom” in Soho. First coffee’s on me. Might even throw in cake if you pretend you missed me.
Lexy:Wow, cake? You’re really trying to bribe me today.
Liam:Always. Guilt tastes better when it’s layered in frosting.
She smiled down at the screen. His words felt lighter than usual—no sharp edges, no silent weight behind the jokes. It was nice. Even if it was probably just a mask, she was grateful for the effort.
Lexy:Alright, Prince Charming. Be there in 30. Don’t eat my cake.
She tossed her phone into her bag, slipped on her shoes, and shrugged into a jacket. With a final glance at Daniel’s untouched plate, she grabbed her keys and headed out the door.

**

The smell of warm cinnamon, fresh espresso, and melted butter hit Lexy the moment she stepped inside. A bell above the door gave a cheerful jingle as she entered the small café tucked away in a quiet corner of Soho. Sunlight streamed through the large front windows, casting a soft golden hue across the wooden tables and exposed brick walls.
She tugged her sleeves down over her hands as she scanned the room. There he was—hoodie up, hunched slightly over a cup of coffee like a caffeinated goblin. Liam didn’t look up until she was halfway to his table.
“Well, well,” he smirked. “Look who finally rose from the dead. Sleeping Beauty graces us with her presence.”
Lexy gave him a flat look as she slid onto the bench opposite him.
“I didn’t rise, thank you very much. Michael decided to let me sleep in. Apparently, he’s my new sleep manager.”

Liam leaned back with a dramatic sigh.
“Oh, what a guy. What a prince charming, isn't he? Tucking you in, letting you rest, driving your emotionally unstable brother to therapy like some sort of tattooed saint.”
Lexy’s cheeks turned a soft pink. She avoided his eyes and reached for the menu. “Shut up,” she muttered. “Where’s the damn cake you promised me?”
Liam grinned and waved toward the counter.
“Coming right up. Two slices of serotonin with a side of not talking about our feelings.”
The barista brought over two steaming cups of coffee and two very generous slices of cake—chocolate caramel for Liam, lemon raspberry tart for Lexy.

They both took a bite at the same time and sighed in unison.
“This is…” Liam began.
“...ridiculously good,” Lexy finished.
A pause followed. Not uncomfortable, but thoughtful.
“Remember when we used to do this all the time?” Liam asked after a moment, watching the people bustle outside. “Whenever Mum and Dad were tearing each other’s heads off, you’d grab me and drag me to the bakery down the street. Said sugar was your cure for trauma.”
Lexy smirked. “Still is.”

For a few minutes, they ate in silence. Not the awkward kind, but the kind shared by people who know each other too well to need to fill every space with words.
Then Liam set down his fork and looked at her, a little more serious this time. “Hey… about last night. I know I scared you. I’m sorry.”
Lexy’s fingers tightened slightly around her mug. “You don’t have to apologize. It’s not your fault.”
“It felt real, though,” Liam said quietly. “You were gone. I tried to save you, but I couldn’t. It… it fucked me up more than I expected.”
She reached across the table and rested her hand on his. “You didn’t wake up alone. That’s what matters.”
Liam gave a small nod. “Dr. Carter put me back on meds. Benzos. Just half a pill before bed. Says they’re strong. Dangerous if I take too much.”

Lexy looked at him closely. “Well, maybe it’s a step in the right direction. You’ve been through hell, Liam. It’s okay to need help getting out.”
“I just… I really hope this is it. I’m tired, Lex.”
She squeezed his hand. “We’ll get through it. One day at a time.”
He smiled faintly.
“You know… you didn’t have to drop everything for me. But you did. You left your life behind. Your job. Your friends. Everything.”
Lexy shrugged. “You’re my brother. That comes first.”
“I know I don’t always say it. Hell, I know I can be a real dick sometimes. But I do see it. Everything you’ve done. Everything you’re still doing.”
She gave him a small smile. “I’m self-employed. I’ve got some flexibility, but yeah… I probably need to start thinking about going back at some point. I’m not exactly making money by being your emotional support human.”
Liam chuckled softly. “Could’ve fooled me. You’re doing a damn good job at it.”

Lexy reached for her phone and pulled up a browser tab.
“Well, since we’re being honest today, I found a couple of listings nearby. Wanna go check them out?”
“Sure,” Liam said, perking up. “Let’s find me a place to have anxiety attacks in peace.”
As they left the café and walked toward the car, two teenage girls passed by, giggling and whispering. One of them called out, “Hey! Are you and Vessel, like, a thing?”
Liam didn’t even look at them. “Jesus,” he muttered under his breath, speeding up his pace.
Lexy blinked. “Okay... what was that?”
“Freaks who call themselves fans,” he grumbled, shaking his head.

**

The rhythmic thud of drums echoed faintly from the studio room, filling the empty corridors with a steady beat. Michael sat behind his kit, lazily drumming a random groove while chewing on a piece of gum, his hair disheveled, his eyes still tired from the lack of sleep.
After a few minutes, he dropped his sticks onto the snare drum and stood up with a low groan. "Fuckin' tired, man," he muttered to himself as he shuffled into the control room.

The room was warm and cozy, despite the sheer amount of technology. A desk with a few worn notebooks sat next to a mix of professional monitors and empty coffee cups. In the corner was an old couch, in front of it a small table, with the legendary mini-fridge underneath.
Michael yawned heartily, opened the fridge, and grabbed a can of Red Bull. The metallic clang echoed briefly through the room. He took a deep swig, belched shamelessly, and flopped backward onto the sofa as if he'd just turned thirty years older.

He pulled his phone from his pocket, unlocked it, and glanced at the clock.
"Where the fuck is Jay?"
He briefly considered whether he should be worried. Jayden was usually more German than a German watchmaker when it came to punctuality. Michael scrolled through his contacts, searching for Jayden's name, his thumb already hovering over the call icon—
The door opened. Jayden entered, yawning, his hair disheveled, his hoodie smelling of sleep—and considerably more.

"Sorry, I'm late," he mumbled in a raspy voice, "overslept."
He flopped down on the couch next to Michael, stretched his legs, and rubbed his eyes.
Michael sniffed briefly, then snorted in surprise. "Jesus Christ, Jay! You smell like someone's still inside you!"
Jayden burst out laughing. “Fuck off, man.”
"No, seriously," Michael said with dramatic seriousness. "You smell so much like sex, I'm about to pop a boner. What the hell, do you two ever sleep? Or do you just recharge while fucking?"
Jayden leaned back, grinning.
"Apparently, I sleep after fucking. Not my fault you're the one who chose celibacy like a monk."

Michael rolled his eyes and sipped his Red Bull again. “I’m not celibate, I’m just… emotionally blackmailed.”
Jayden raised an eyebrow. “Lexy again?”
“Who else?” Michael groaned and threw his head against the back of the couch. "She drives me insane, man. And not the fun kind of insane."
Jayden laughed again, this time quieter, softer. “At least you don’t smell like me.”
"Yeah, thank God for that. I'd have to bleach my entire soul."

Jayden chuckled, scrubbing a hand through his messy hair.
“I don’t even remember falling asleep last night. One moment I was on top of the world, next thing I know I’m waking up ten minutes before I was supposed to be here.”
Michael gave him a side-eye.
“On top of the world or on top of Enya?”
Jay shot him a deadpan look. “Why not both?”
They both burst out laughing, their voices echoing in the otherwise empty studio.

Michael shot him a look. “You seriously slept after sex? Not very rockstar of you.”
Jay smirked. “You try staying awake after four rounds with her.”
Michael groaned and took another sip of his Red Bull. “You’ve got five seconds before I stuff my drumsticks in my ears.”
But Jay was already warming up. “It’s just… She’s perfect, you know? Like—how the fuck is that even fair?” He gestured aimlessly. “One second I’m all over her like some feral animal, the next she’s curled up against me and I swear I feel like I’m living in a goddamn Nicholas Sparks novel.”
Michael narrowed his eyes. “You’re dangerously close to saying the word ‘soulmate’ right now.”
Jay laughed. “Don’t tempt me. And fuck, man—she’s just so into it. Like, I swear, she could teach pornstars a thing or two.”
Michael blinked. “Don’t—”
Jay grinned wider. “You ever been with a girl who can squirt like that? I’m talkin’—”
“Nope!” Michael cut him off, holding up a hand. “We’re done. That’s enough. Too much information.”

Jay burst out laughing. “What? You asked!”
“I did not ask for a 4K play-by-play of your wet-and-wild adventures, Jay. Jesus,” Michael muttered, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I’m gonna need holy water for my ears.”
Jay snorted and leaned back, clearly amused. “Come on, admit it—you’re just jealous.”
Michael rolled his eyes. “I’m jealous of the sleep you got. The rest I could do without.”
Jay’s smile softened. “Yeah, well… it’s not just the sex. It’s everything. I look at her and it’s like... my whole goddamn world makes sense.”
Michael looked at him for a long second, then nodded. “That’s real. I’m happy for you, man.”
Jay nudged his leg. “You’ll get there too.”
Michael scoffed. “Not if I have to hear about squirting first.”
Jay grinned, unapologetic. “Your loss.”

After a few beats of comfortable silence, Michael leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees.
“Seriously though… how’s she doing? Enya, I mean.”
Jay’s expression softened instantly. “She’s… okay, I think. Holding up, all things considered. She’s been through a lot, you know that. But she’s strong.”
Michael nodded slowly, his gaze drifting to the floor. “Yeah. She always seemed like the quiet type, but you could tell there’s fire in there. She just hides it better than the rest of us.”
Jay smiled faintly. “Exactly. She doesn’t always talk about how she feels, but when she does… you better listen. Because that’s when it’s real.”
Michael smirked and leaned back again, folding his arms behind his head.
“Guess you’re turning into a proper poet, huh?”
Jay gave him a playful shove. “Fuck off.”

“No seriously,” Michael grinned. “I can’t tell if I should be impressed or puke. Your voice goes all soft when you talk about her. It’s like watching a Disney prince.”
Jay shrugged, a bit sheepish now. “Well, I love her.”
Michael snorted. “Yeah, no shit.”
Then a beat.
Jay turned toward him slightly.
“What about you and Lexy?”
Michael sighed through his nose, his smile fading just a little.
“Still complicated.”
Jay didn’t say anything, just waited.

“She’s… keeping her distance,” Michael finally said. “I know she cares, I know she does, but it’s like she’s scared of letting me get too close. And I get it. I do. But it’s driving me crazy, man.”
Jayden reached for a bottle of water from the mini-fridge and tossed it to him.
“She’s trying to protect herself. Or you. Or both.”
Michael caught the bottle mid-air, twisted off the cap and took a sip. “Yeah. That’s what makes it worse. Because I’m still here. Waiting.”
Jay nodded quietly. “And she knows that. Don’t underestimate what that means.”
Michael didn’t answer immediately, just sat there for a while. Then:
“Anyway. Enough of the emo shit. You gonna help me lay down this drum track or what?”
Jay chuckled. “Let’s get to it, Prince Charming.”

Michael tapped a few keys on the console, a smug grin on his face as he queued up a track.
"Alright, Romeo, shut up for a sec. I reworked some of the drums on Track 8. Tell me what you think."
Jay, still lounging with his feet on the coffee table, raised an eyebrow. “I didn’t know you were still tweaking that one.”
Michael snorted. “Yeah, well, some of us don’t spend all night having Olympic-level sex and forgetting studio appointments.”
Jay smirked but leaned forward with interest as the beat kicked in. The room filled with heavy, pulsing drums—raw, aggressive, tighter than before. Jay’s head bobbed along, his expression slowly shifting into one of focused approval.
“Damn,” he muttered. “That hits hard. Like, end-of-the-world hard.”
Michael grinned. “Good. That was the vibe.”
Jay gave a nod. “Okay, okay. You win. I’ll stop talking about Enya for five minutes.”
“Thank fuck.”

Jay stood, stretching before stepping into the booth. He adjusted the headphones and ran through a few warmups, then launched into a verse. His voice came through rich and clean, full of power. He nailed two takes, stumbled on the third.
They moved through a couple of other tracks—some flowed easily, others got under his skin.
By mid-afternoon, he was pacing behind the mic, visibly frustrated.
"This fucking chorus just isn’t working, man," he groaned, tossing his lyric sheet onto the floor. "I’ve rewritten it three times and it’s still shit."
Michael leaned back in his chair. “Which song is that?”
Jay let out a sharp sigh. “The personal one, you know. I still don't have a name for it. It's supposed to be this really emotional, raw piece—soft verses, explosive chorus. But nothing I write feels... honest enough.”
Michael looked thoughtful. “You’re overthinking it.”
Jay shot him a look. “Says the guy who once rewrote a snare fill for three days.”
„Touché.“
They kept working, the hours blurring past. The sun dipped outside, casting long shadows through the studio windows. At some point, Michael tossed Jay a protein bar. Jay ignored it. He was in the zone again, recording harmonies, scribbling new lines, half-singing, half-cursing.

It was just after six when Jay’s phone lit up.
Enya.
He picked up, a tired but warm “Hey, love,” already on his lips.
But her voice was clipped. “Jayden? Quick question—do you know a Scarlett Kensington?”
He froze. Every muscle in his body tensed. “What? Yeah. She’s—she’s our new social media manager. Why?”
There was a pause. “Because she’s here. Said you had a meeting scheduled?”
Jay swore under his breath. “Shit. Shit. That was today. I totally forgot. I was supposed to meet her half an hour ago to go over the single launch.” He ran a hand through his hair, pacing now. “Enya, don’t—don’t talk to her, okay? Just... give me ten minutes, I’ll be home. Please.”
Enya’s confusion cut through the line. “What do you mean ‘don’t talk to her’? She’s standing in our doorway.”
“I know. Just—please. I’ll explain everything. Don’t let her in.”
The line went quiet for a second before Enya answered, clearly annoyed, “Jayden, what do you want me to do? Leave her outside with a clipboard until you show up?”
He didn’t respond. Just ended the call.

Michael, who’d been half-listening, turned his head. “What happened?”
Jay grabbed his hoodie and bolted for the door. “Scarlett. She’s at my place. And Enya’s there.”
Michael sat up straight. “Wait—what? You didn’t tell her Scarlett was working for us?”
Jay paused, just long enough to glare at himself. “I was going to. Fuck, Mike—I forgot. And now they’re face to face.”
Michael muttered something that sounded suspiciously like a prayer. “Well, fuck me sideways.”
“Not the time, Mikey.”
“Just saying, man. If that girl pulls some of her old shit, it’s not gonna end with a passive-aggressive Instagram story.”
Jay was already out the door.

As soon as the studio door clicked shut behind Jay, the room fell into a strange sort of silence. Michael stood in it for a few seconds, letting the quiet settle around him before sighing.
He rolled his shoulders, cracked his neck, and started tidying up—coiling cables, saving project files, wiping down the drum pads. His mind was still buzzing from the day: Jay’s chaos, his relentless rambling about Enya, and then that sudden emergency with Scarlett.
“Goddamn soap opera,” he muttered to himself, tossing a pair of drumsticks into his backpack.
Once everything was shut down and packed away, he slung his bag over one shoulder and stepped out into the evening air. The sun had disappeared behind the skyline, leaving the streets bathed in that cold, blue-grey glow of early night. A breeze cut through his hoodie, sharp and biting.
“Fuckin’ chilly,” he grumbled, rubbing his arms as he crossed the street.

Just a few doors down from the studio, warm light spilled out of a cozy little café—Moonstruck Cafe. Without thinking, Michael veered toward it and pushed the door open, welcomed instantly by the gentle hum of indie music and the smell of espresso.
“Evenin’,” said a cheerful voice from behind the counter.
Michael blinked at the barista—a young guy with warm brown eyes, honey-toned skin, and a mop of dark curls that looked like they refused to obey gravity. His nametag read Mateo.
“Latte macchiato,” Michael said, voice a little hoarse.
“Coming right up.”
Michael leaned on the counter, watching absentmindedly as Mateo worked. His movements were fluid, confident—each step from espresso shot to milk froth practiced to perfection. Michael’s gaze wandered, lazy from exhaustion, and before he could even register what he was doing, his eyes were locked squarely on Mateo’s ass as he reached for a syrup bottle on a lower shelf.

He only snapped out of it when Mateo turned back with a crooked grin.
“Like what you see?”
Michael choked on air.
“I—what? No, I—I’m sorry. That was—shit. That was rude. I didn’t mean to—”
Mateo placed the to-go cup on the counter in front of him, smirking.
“Relax. If I minded, you’d know.”
Michael stared, completely thrown, the tips of his ears turning bright pink. He fumbled his phone out for Apple Pay and mumbled a quiet “Thanks,” as he took the cup and backed away like Mateo might say something else that would short-circuit his brain.
He slipped out the door into the cold, holding the warm coffee cup between both hands.
“What the hell was that?” he muttered to himself, still pink-cheeked as he shook his head. “Did that guy just flirt with me?”
He took a sip. Goddamn. The coffee was perfect.

As he made his way to the car, he pulled out his phone and typed out a message to Lexy.
You guys find anything yet? Any luck with the apartments? You back home?
He climbed into the car, tossed his bag onto the passenger seat, and jammed the key into the ignition.
His phone buzzed just as he turned it.
Lexy:
Nothing yet. But we’ve got more lined up for tomorrow. Just got home and grabbed pizza. If you hurry, there might be a slice left for you.
Michael smiled at the screen, one corner of his mouth quirking upward.
“Pizza. Now we’re talkin’.”
He started the engine and pulled out of the parking space, heading home.

Chapter Text

When Enya came home from work that afternoon, she was greeted at the door by a bundle of sunshine named Gremlin. The little whirlwind danced around her feet, tail wagging like mad, as if he hadn’t seen her in a hundred years. His eager jumps and excited little yips instantly brought a smile to her face.
“Hey you,” Enya chuckled as she slipped off her shoes and sat down right there in the hallway, rewarding him with all the well-deserved belly rubs and ear scratches.
“So, what did you get up to all day?” she asked as she got back to her feet and padded toward the kitchen. “Trying to take over the world again? Or did you just sleep through the revolution?”
Gremlin barked enthusiastically, followed by a very dramatic little “Awooo,” just to emphasize his stance.
“No way!” Enya gasped, mock-shocked. “You know, for a dog, you lead a remarkably fascinating life.”

She laughed softly and filled up his water bowl with fresh, cool water. Gremlin immediately threw himself at it like he hadn’t had a drop in days, slurping away with pure devotion.
Meanwhile, Enya headed to the bathroom to wash her hands and change out of her work clothes. She pulled on a pair of soft, cozy sweatpants and an oversized hoodie—one that used to belong to Liam. He had given it to her months ago, and even now, it was still her go-to comfort piece. A little stretched out at the sleeves, slightly worn, and absolutely perfect.
Without thinking, she brought the cuff of one sleeve to her nose and inhaled deeply. It still smelled a little like him. That faint, warm scent that clung to memories she wasn't ready to let go of.
How was he doing now?

A quiet wave of sadness washed over her as she slowly made her way to the living room and let herself fall onto the couch with a heavy sigh. She missed him. His laid-back attitude. That cheeky grin. The way he could lighten the mood with just one sarcastic comment.
Her hand wandered to her neck, tracing over where the bruises had almost completely faded. It didn’t hurt anymore—at least not physically.
Oddly enough, the incident hadn’t left the kind of emotional scar she would’ve expected. Not like the time he’d slammed her against the fridge during one of his sleepwalking episodes. That moment had burned itself into her memory far more clearly.
Maybe it was because she’d been awake then. Aware. Present.
When he’d choked her, she’d been asleep—and unconscious for most of it. It had happened in a haze, distant and dreamlike, and her brain hadn’t quite processed it the same way.

She didn’t know if that made her lucky or just deeply conflicted.
What she did know was that she would do anything to take away the guilt Liam was carrying. To tell him that it was okay. That she wasn’t afraid of him.
But she also knew he wouldn’t believe her.
Another sigh escaped her lips. She was overthinking it again.
Her therapist had told her to stop living in the past. To stop making herself responsible for other people’s healing.
Liam’s mental health wasn’t her job. He had to figure that part out on his own.

Trying to push the thoughts away, Enya reached for her phone and opened Reddit.
Her thumb absentmindedly scrolled through the Sleep Token subreddit, where fans were once again in full theory mode, speculating about when the next release would finally drop.

📌 Thread Title:
Are Sleep Token already late with new music? 🕯 👀
📃 Post Body:
Okay, hear me out – I was looking at the release dates and realized something kind of interesting (and maybe slightly alarming, depending on how impatient you are 😅
⏰ Sundowning – 2019
⏰ This Place Will Become Your Tomb – 2021
⏰ Take Me Back to Eden – 2023
That’s a pretty clear 2-year cycle.
Which means… if the pattern holds: 2025 is album year.
And guess what? It’s almost March already.
So far: no cryptic countdowns, no teaser singles, no weird Vessel-shaped smoke clouds over London (I mean, not that we know of). Just tour announcements and some vague vibes.
Do you guys think we’ll get another surprise drop à la TPWBYT?
Or is this the first time they’re breaking their own cycle?
Maybe they’re taking a longer break on purpose?
Or... wild theory time: what if the next album is already done and they’re just waiting for the perfect moon phase to drop it? 🌗
Curious to hear your thoughts.
Are you:
a) Patiently waiting like a monk?
b) Secretly checking Spotify every Friday?
c) About to summon Vessel in a ritual circle made of merch?
Let the speculation begin.

👤 VesselOfMyPatience
Honestly, I think they’re cooking something big. Like really big.
Maybe that’s why it’s taking longer. Bigger concept? New sound? Movie tie-in? Who knows.
Just hope it’s worth the wait.

👤 JustDropItAlready123
Bro they are LATE.
We’re almost in Q2 of 2025. Where’s the teaser? Where’s the cryptic Instagram post?
I’m sick of being mentally ill to the same 3 albums.

👤 MaskedInTheFog
What if TMbtE was the end of a trilogy and they’re reinventing the whole thing now?
New lore. New symbols. Maybe even a new “Vessel”? 👀

👤 MercifulAnon
Can we not pressure them though? Art takes time.
They’ve given us so much already. Let them breathe.
Go touch grass. Meditate. Hug a tree.

👤 VesselsEx
Wild theory: They’re gonna drop the next album with no warning during the eclipse.
Total blackout, boom – new single.
I’m calling it now.

👤 DanielLikesFeet
Imagine they just fake disbanded and the next album is a side project under a secret name.
I wouldn’t even be mad. Just confused and full of reverence.

👤 SundowningStan
Every Friday I check Spotify like it’s Christmas morning and get disappointed like a kid who asked for a PS5 and got socks.
Please... please just give us something.

Enya couldn’t help but laugh. She loved how seriously some fans took their theories—while also being wildly creative and just a little unhinged. It was weirdly comforting. And somewhere, deep inside, she felt a quiet sort of pride that she got to witness it all from so close.
She clicked on another subreddit called "Sleep Token Unmasked." She absentmindedly scrolled through the threads until a headline caught her attention.

📌 Thread Title: "Pretty sure I saw Jayden walking his dog today in Dulwich 😳🐕"
📄 Post Body:
Not gonna lie, I’m still shaking.
I was walking home from the gym and I swear it was him. No mask, just sunglasses and a hoodie – but the dog? That little pookie of a fluffball gave him away ?
He looked kinda… quiet? I don’t know. Not sad, just like, deep in thought. He was walking slow, had his hands in his pockets most of the time.
I didn’t want to bother him (respect etc.), but I did manage to sneak a couple pics from behind and the side.
Posting them here for proof (pls don’t come for me lol).
📸 [uploaded images: Jayden from a distance, walking through a park, leash in hand; one close-up where he’s glancing at his phone; one shot where he’s just turning a corner near a street Enya instantly recognizes]

🧵 Top Comments:
👤 TheVoiceInTheFog
Why does he look so melancholic? Like he’s carrying the weight of the entire album on his shoulders 😢

👤 VesselWife69
I'm sorry but WHY is this man built like a Greek god even in baggy clothes. I want to be that leash.

👤 EthicallyUnwell
Imagine being that dog. Just. Imagine.

👤 TouchGrassAndRepent
Okay but can we NOT post stalker pics? Man’s just tryna live. Let him walk his dog in peace ?

Enya stared at the last picture.
The street. The front door. That was...
No.
Yes.
She was sure – it was right around the corner. Just a few meters from their house.
An unpleasant tingling sensation ran down her spine. Suddenly, she no longer felt as undisturbed as she had just a few minutes ago.
She slowly stood up and walked to the window, carefully pushed the curtain aside, and looked out.
Nothing. No paparazzo. No fan. No shadow behaving suspiciously. Just an empty sidewalk, a few parked cars, and a neighbor's cat, lying serenely on a car roof, grooming itself.
Enya exhaled softly and let go of the curtain. Still, the feeling remained. That someone might know more than they should. That she was being watched. Or worse – that Jayden was being watched.

Just as Enya let the curtain fall back into place, there was a knock at the door.
She flinched.
That was fast.
Pizza? No, they’d already eaten. Jayden? He would’ve texted.
Gremlin perked up immediately and trotted to the door, tail wagging with excitement.
Enya followed more cautiously.
When she opened the door, the last thing she expected was her.
Tall. Platinum blonde. Dressed in an effortlessly stylish blazer and high-waisted jeans that looked designer but screamed “I just threw this on”.
A soft smile curled her glossy lips, and her manicured fingers clutched a small designer handbag with the kind of ease that came only from habit.

“Hi,” the woman said brightly. “You must be Enya.”
Enya narrowed her eyes slightly. “Sorry, do I... know you?”
“Oh, of course not. We haven’t met.” The woman offered her hand as if they were old friends at a garden party. “Scarlett Kensington. I’m the new social media manager for the band. Jayden and I have a meeting scheduled today to go over the promo campaign for the upcoming single.”
Enya didn’t shake her hand. She looked her up and down, then glanced over her shoulder as if expecting cameras to pop out from behind the bushes.
Scarlett didn’t seem to notice the hesitation. “He said he’d be home around now. I know I’m a bit early, but I figured I’d stop by instead of waiting in the car.”
“I see,” Enya said, her voice neutral. Her instincts were already on edge from the Reddit thread, and now this… surprise visit from someone with perfect hair and a tablet pc?
Scarlett smiled again, glancing into the apartment like it belonged to her. “Lovely place, by the way. Very... humble.”
Enya’s jaw tightened.

“I’m gonna call Jayden real quick, if you don’t mind,” she said politely but firmly, stepping back and starting to close the door.
Scarlett gave a breezy shrug. “Of course. I’ll be right here.”
As soon as the door clicked shut, Enya pulled out her phone and dialed.
It rang once. Twice.
“Hey, love,” Jayden answered, cheerful.
“Jayden? Quick question—do you know a Scarlett Kensington?”
His voice changed instantly. From warmth to ice.
“What?” he said, caught off guard. “Yeah. She’s—she’s our new social media manager. Why?”
“Well, she’s here,” Enya said, keeping her voice steady. “Said you had a meeting scheduled?”

Jay swore under his breath. “Shit. Shit. That was today. I totally forgot. I was supposed to meet her half an hour ago to go over the single launch.”
There was a pause. Then, quickly: “Enya, don’t—don’t talk to her, okay? Just... give me ten minutes, I’ll be home. Please.”
Enya frowned. “What do you mean ‘don’t talk to her’? She’s standing in our doorway.”
“I know. Just—please. I’ll explain everything. Don’t let her in.”
A beat of silence passed.
“Jayden,” Enya said slowly, clearly annoyed, “what do you want me to do? Leave her outside with a clipboard until you show up?”
No answer.
He hung up.

Enya stared at her phone, stunned. Jayden had never ended a call like that. Not with her. Not without a word.
For a moment, she just stood there. Then she let out a slow breath, turned around, and opened the door again.
Scarlett was still there, scrolling idly through her phone, completely unbothered.
“Sorry for the wait,” Enya said tightly, stepping aside. “You can come in.”
“Thanks,” Scarlett replied with a sugar-sweet smile. “I was starting to think you’d forgotten I was here.”
She stepped over the threshold like she belonged there.
Gremlin barked once, low and suspicious.
Enya couldn’t help but agree with the sentiment.

Enya gestured toward the living room with a polite smile. “Would you like something to drink? Water? Tea?”
Scarlett followed with a gracious nod. “Tea would be lovely, thanks.”
As Enya led her into the kitchen, Scarlett took her time walking behind her, her gaze flicking from room to room with quiet curiosity—photographs on the walls, the plants on the windowsill, the subtle touches of domestic life. She didn’t say anything, but her slow steps and lingering glances said enough.
Enya caught her looking and resisted the urge to comment.
“Make yourself comfortable,” she said instead, motioning toward the small kitchen table. “So… how did you end up working with the band?”
Scarlett sat down gracefully, crossing one leg over the other. “Oh, pretty traditional way, actually. Applied through the label. I’ve worked on campaigns for a few of their artists before, and this one just... fell into place.” She smiled. “Right place, right time, I suppose.”
Enya nodded, busying herself with mugs and teabags, but kept half an ear tuned.

Scarlett glanced around the kitchen again, then let out a soft, almost amused snort through her nose.
Enya looked up immediately. “What?”
Scarlett blinked, then gave a faint shrug, her tone deliberately casual. “Nothing. It’s just… I never thought I’d see the day Jayden settled into something so... domestic. A house? A dog? Coordinated furniture?” She chuckled softly. “He was never the type.”
Enya frowned, her posture stiffening slightly. “You speak like you’ve known him a long time.”
Scarlett tilted her head, her smile slow and measured. “Oh… we go way back. School days, actually. We were pretty close for a while.” She stirred the tea Enya had placed in front of her, eyes fixed on the swirling liquid.
Enya didn’t answer at first. Something in her chest tightened.

Scarlett sipped, then looked up innocently. “Funny how people change, isn’t it? Jayden always had a bit of a wild streak, but I guess some people really do mellow out with age. Or maybe he just needed the right woman to tame him.”
The words hung between them like perfume—sweet, but cloying.
Enya’s mouth tightened, her fingers tightening ever so slightly around the mug in her hands.
She didn’t respond, but her eyes never left Scarlett’s face.
And Scarlett just smiled.

Scarlett set her cup down and leaned forward slightly, fingers loosely laced.
“So, Enya, right? What do you do? I mean, aside from playing house with Vessel.”
She gave a light laugh, like it was just a harmless joke—but there was a definite click beneath the surface.
Enya sat across from her, keeping her tone relaxed. “I work at a kindergarten. I really enjoy it.”
Scarlett raised a perfectly shaped eyebrow. “A kindergarten? That’s… sweet. You must have the patience of a saint.”
She took another sip of tea before adding casually, “Jayden always said he couldn’t handle kids. Too loud, too messy. But I guess he’s changed more than I thought.”
Enya’s heart ticked up just slightly, but she gave a soft chuckle. “Well, he gets along great with Gremlin. That’s something.”

“The dog,” Scarlett nodded vaguely. “He always wanted a husky. Funny he ended up with something smaller. Maybe it’s part of the whole domestic rebrand.”
She glanced around the kitchen as she said it—rebrand landing just a little too deliberately.
Enya stayed quiet for a second, then asked directly, “You seem to know him pretty well.”
Scarlett’s gaze slid back to her, her smile narrowing. “Like I said—we go way back. Jayden and I used to spend a lot of time together. Back before all this.”
She gestured lightly, encompassing the house, the life—Enya.
Then, leaning in with an air of friendly curiosity, she added, “But I guess he never mentioned me, did he?”
Enya shook her head slowly. “Not really.”
“Hmm,” Scarlett set her cup down again, more thoughtfully this time. “That’s interesting. I mean… we were pretty close. But maybe he just didn’t think it mattered anymore.”
She gave a careless shrug, then smiled again. “No hard feelings. The past is the past, right?”
“Right,” Enya replied, steady but watching her more closely now.

Scarlett’s eyes dropped to the hoodie Enya was wearing. “That hoodie—his, I’m guessing?”
Enya gave her a small, polite smile. “Nope. It’s mine.”
Scarlett blinked once, surprised for a split second—then laughed, light and airy. “Oh, my mistake. Jayden used to love giving his hoodies away. Said it made girls feel special.”
Enya tilted her head slightly. “Or maybe he just likes seeing people he cares about comfortable.”
Scarlett laughed again, but there was something too knowing about it. “Of course. Jayden’s always been… very good at making people feel cared for.”
And just like that, the air between them changed. Scarlett’s words dripped with honey, but there was something sharp in the aftertaste.

Trying to steer the conversation away from the strange tension building in the room, Enya cleared her throat softly.
“So… as the social media manager, are you mainly focused on promo campaigns, or do you also handle stuff like inappropriate fan posts? Like moderation?”
Scarlett perked up, clearly enjoying the spotlight. “Oh, I do a bit of everything. I’m kind of the go-to girl when it comes to anything online. A whole bag of talents, if you will.”
She winked, like she was letting Enya in on some cheeky secret.
Enya ignored the tone and pressed on. “There was this Reddit post earlier. Someone took pictures of Jay while he was walking Gremlin in the park. But it wasn’t just that—it looked like they followed him close to home. The whole thing felt… invasive.”
Scarlett’s brows lifted as she reached for her phone, her voice syrupy with concern. “Oh wow. That sounds awful.”
She tapped around, then frowned dramatically at her screen. “Ugh. People have no boundaries these days. Poor Jayden.”

Enya watched as Scarlett scrolled, clicking her tongue and tilting her head in overdone disbelief.
“I’ll flag this and talk to the label’s legal team tomorrow morning,” she promised, still staring at her screen. “We don’t tolerate stalker behavior in our community. Promise I’ll get it handled.”
Relieved, Enya offered a small smile. “Thank you. I really appreciate that.”
Scarlett finally looked up, beaming. “Anything for Jayden.”
Enya sat back in her chair. Maybe… maybe she’d misjudged her. Maybe Scarlett really was just doing her job.
But as she watched the other woman flick a perfectly manicured nail against the edge of her phone case, a quiet knot formed in her stomach again.
Something didn’t sit right.
And she’d learned to trust that feeling.

Chapter Text

Just as Scarlett was scrolling through her phone, probably checking her reflection in the black screen more than the actual Reddit post, the front door opened. Gremlin bolted toward the sound, barking excitedly.
“Jayden?” Enya called out.
Seconds later, Jayden stepped into the hallway, keys in hand, hair a little windswept, cheeks slightly flushed from the chill outside. His eyes landed on Scarlett, who gave him a perfectly polished smile—but his gaze slid right past her and settled on Enya.
Without a word, he crossed the space and kissed her. Deeply. Passionately. His hand cupped the side of her face, the kiss lingering just long enough to send a very deliberate message.
Enya blinked, startled but warm with affection. “Hi,” she whispered when they parted.
Jayden brushed a lock of hair behind her ear. “Hey, darling.”

Behind them, Scarlett let out a theatrical sigh. “Wow. That was… intense.”
Jayden’s smile faded instantly. “Scarlett.” His voice was flat, professional. “You weren’t supposed to come here.”
She raised a brow. “You weren’t answering your phone. I called twice. I figured I’d catch you here before you got home.”
“I was at the studio,” he said, annoyed. “Exactly where I said I’d be. You could’ve waited or sent a message through the team.”
Scarlett gave a sweet, fake little laugh. “Well, clearly you're home now. And besides, your girlfriend was gracious enough to invite me in.”
Jayden looked at Enya apologetically. “Babe, would you mind taking Gremlin out real quick? I just need to go over some scheduling stuff with Scarlett—ten minutes, max.”
Enya hesitated, feeling that uncomfortable twist in her stomach again. “Sure,” she said eventually, grabbing the leash and clicking it onto Gremlin’s collar. “We’ll be back in a bit.”
Jayden mouthed a silent "thank you" as she passed him.
The moment the door closed behind her, Scarlett’s smile sharpened.

“So,” she said, stepping closer. “Was that kiss supposed to be a statement... or was that genuine?”
Jayden’s jaw tightened. “What do you think?”
Scarlett shrugged and trailed a perfectly manicured nail along the back of one of the kitchen chairs. “I think you’re trying very hard to convince someone of something.”
He crossed his arms. “What do you want, Scarlett?”
She tilted her head. “You know, I was too curious. I didn’t expect her to look like that. She’s very... wholesome.” Her tone dripped with condescension. “Not your usual type.”
“She’s exactly my type,” Jayden said coldly.
Scarlett smirked. “Please. You and I both know you used to go for women who challenged you. Who matched your energy. That girl looks like she knits sweaters for stray cats in her free time.”
Jayden stepped forward. “Watch it.”

Scarlett held up her hands. “Hey, I’m just saying—it’s cute. You’re settling down. Playing house.” Her voice softened, insincere. “But you know that’s not you, Jay. Not really.”
He didn’t respond. He just stared at her, expression unreadable.
Scarlett took a step closer and lowered her voice. “I know you, Jayden. Better than she ever will.”
He didn’t even blink. “You don’t know me at all anymore.”
The words hung in the air like ice.
Scarlett slowly circled the kitchen like a cat assessing its territory. She ran her fingers along the countertop, taking in every detail with that same smug smile.
“I mean, honestly…” she mused, then turned to face Jayden. “Red hair? Really? That just screams Pick Me energy. What is it, some kind of rebranding strategy? Going for the quirky indie girlfriend vibe now?”

Jayden’s expression hardened. His jaw clenched so tight, his molars ached. “You need to leave.”
Scarlett raised an eyebrow, unbothered. “Relax. I’m just making conversation.”
“I’m not,” he snapped. “You came here uninvited. You crossed a line. If you’ve got something to discuss, do it at the studio. Don’t ever show up here again.”
She rolled her eyes dramatically. “Wow. Guess that wholesome act of hers really has you wrapped around her finger, huh?” Then, with a venomous little smirk, she added, “Must be hard though—dating someone who probably thinks ‘doggy style’ means walking the dog together.”
Jayden’s entire body went rigid. His eyes darkened.

He stepped forward, slowly, until they were nearly nose to nose. His voice dropped to a low, dangerous growl.
“You know what, Scarlett?” he hissed. “At least she doesn’t start crying when I fuck her in the ass.”
The silence that followed was instant and absolute. Scarlett’s lips parted in a mix of shock and rage, but no sound came out. Her cheeks flushed deep red—whether from humiliation or fury was impossible to tell.
Jayden didn’t move. He stared her down, every word that followed laced with venom.
“Get. Out. Of. My. House.”

Scarlett stood frozen for a beat, eyes wide, trying to process what had just been said to her. Then she scoffed and grabbed her handbag off the counter.
“Fine,” she muttered through gritted teeth. “Send me the goddamn music sheets for the Instagram post. Email’s fine.”
She stormed out, heels clicking furiously against the floor, and slammed the door shut behind her.
The moment Jayden heard the lock click into place, he let out a heavy breath and collapsed onto the couch. His hands ran down his face as he growled under his breath, furious at himself, at her, at all of it.
“Fucking Scarlett…”
He stared up at the ceiling, mind racing.
What the hell did she say to Enya while I was gone?

**

Enya walked slowly down the quiet street, the dog trotting ahead on its leash. Her thoughts were louder than the sound of her footsteps.
Jayden had never asked her to leave the house before—especially not during a meeting. It wasn’t like she was some outsider. She knew about Sleep Token. She knew the people, the work, the pressure. So why had he wanted her out of the room? What was so secret about this conversation that she couldn’t hear?
Her thoughts spiraled.
Scarlett had said they’d known each other from school. That they were “close.” What exactly did that mean? Had they been a couple? Had he loved her once?
And if so… what now?
Was he secretly glad to have her back in his life? Was this something he didn’t want to admit to her? Was he still attracted to her?
Enya's chest tightened.

But just as she was about to fully sink into that whirlpool of doubt, something—or rather someone—snapped her out of it.
Scarlett.
She saw her up ahead, striding down the sidewalk like a woman possessed, car keys clenched in her fist. Even from a distance, Enya could almost see the storm cloud over her head, like her anger had a physical form.
Enya hesitated, but then called out, “Scarlett? Everything okay?”
Scarlett turned, her face twisted in irritation. Her eyes raked over Enya from head to toe, a look that made Enya's stomach twist with unease.
And then—just like that—Scarlett's entire demeanor shifted. The mask slid back on. That same polished, professional façade returned like a flip of a switch, along with a sly, almost triumphant smile.

“You know, Enya…” she began sweetly, opening her car door with a practiced hand, “I really hope you’re not too emotionally invested in Jayden.”
Enya blinked. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
Scarlett tilted her head, her tone light but laced with venom. “Jayden’s a bit of a playboy. Always has been. Always looking for a new toy to play with. Monogamy? Not really his thing. Eventually, he’ll start sneaking other little bunnies into your bed. That’s just who he is.”
With that, she slipped into the driver’s seat and slammed the door shut without another word.
Enya stood frozen on the sidewalk, her heart pounding in her chest as the car engine roared to life. Scarlett peeled off down the street, leaving behind nothing but exhaust fumes and a thousand poisonous doubts.

Jayden sat on the couch, his face buried in his hands. He didn’t even hear the door click shut behind Enya. Not until he caught the soft sound of her footsteps on the wooden floor. Then he felt her presence—before she even said a word.
“Hey.” Her voice was gentle, soft. “Everything okay?”
Jayden lifted his head. His eyes were red, his brow furrowed with worry.
“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I didn’t want you to be alone with her, I just—fuck, Enya, I wasn’t thinking. I don't even know how she got the address. That woman is always causing trouble.”
Enya didn’t respond right away. She just sat down next to him, pulled her legs up on the couch and leaned her back against the armrest. Then she patted her thigh.
“Come here, drama queen.”

He hesitated for a second, but the soft smile playing on her lips made the decision for him. He crawled over, collapsing half on her lap, half beside her, resting his head against her chest, arms clinging to her like a koala.
She wrapped her arms around him, one hand gently burying itself in his hair, pulling him a little closer. “You smell like anxiety and guilt. Very on brand today.”
He let out a quiet laugh against her hoodie. “That’s my signature scent.”
“I like it.” She leaned her forehead against the back of his head.
“But you really need to stop beating yourself up over everything. You didn’t do anything wrong. She was... pretty offensive. Said you two were close in school.” Enya paused. The next question made her nervous. “Were you a couple?”

Jayden snorted softly, his body vibrating against hers.
“Yeah, we were. Didn’t exactly end well. And no, I don’t want to talk about it. I just—god, I hope she didn’t say anything awful to you. I can’t stand the thought of her getting into your head.”
“She tried,” Enya admitted with a shrug, even though he couldn’t see it. “But I trust you. And she’s just noise. You’re real.”
Jayden turned his head slightly to look up at her. “How do you always know exactly what I need to hear?”
“It’s my superpower,” she said, gently stroking his cheek. “That, and knowing what leftovers we have in the fridge without checking. Equally impressive.”
She ran her fingers through his hair in slow, calming circles, her nails just enough to make him melt. If it worked on Gremlin, it would definitely work on Jayden. She smiled as she heard the deep, guttural sigh escape him, his whole body relaxing in her arms.

Jayden smiled too, shifting just enough to curl in even closer to her. “Can we stay like this for a while? I don’t want to move. Ever.”
“You’re crushing my legs,” she muttered playfully, “but sure. I’m sure we’ll regret this tomorrow when we both have to apply for disability benefits because our backs are ruined.”
“Worth it.”
She grabbed the throw blanket off the back of the couch and pulled it over the both of them, fingers gently stroking his back in slow patterns. For a moment, everything was still. Just their breath, his heartbeat, the warmth between them.
Then Jayden murmured, “You know... I love you. Even more than coffee.”
Enya’s eyes widened dramatically. “Whoa. Don’t say things you can’t take back.”
He grinned sleepily.
“Too late.”

Enya chuckled softly, the sound vibrating against Jayden’s cheek. “You’re lucky I like you. That coffee comment was dangerously close to blasphemy.”
Jayden hummed, content. “You’ll forgive me. Eventually.”
She didn’t answer right away. Her fingertips kept tracing slow, lazy patterns along his back — the kind of touch meant to soothe, not seduce. His breathing had long since settled, heartbeat calm and steady against her ribs.
“You’re really not gonna move, are you?” she asked eventually, her grin creeping into her voice.
Jayden shook his head against her. “Nope.”
“Well, in that case…” She reached for the remote, just within arm’s length, and turned on the TV.
“Let’s see what trash Netflix wants to rot our brains with tonight.”

He tilted his head up slightly to glance at her. “Can I veto anything involving serial killers or teenage love triangles?”
“So you’re saying you don’t wanna watch that documentary about a vampire cheerleader who murders her exes?”
Jayden groaned. “Why is that even a thing?!”
“Because the world is a terrible place and we deserve to suffer,” she replied dryly, scrolling through the suggestions. “Okay… maybe something cozy. British baking show?”
“Deal,” he mumbled.
The familiar intro music filled the room. Neither of them said anything for a while. Enya pulled the blanket higher over them both, while Jayden absentmindedly started fidgeting with the hem of her sweater — like a sleepy child grounding himself. The kind of moment where nothing really happens, but everything feels right.

After a while, he whispered, eyes barely open: “You know what scares me?”
“What?”
“That I don’t know how to live without this anymore. Without you.”
Enya felt her chest tighten — in the good kind of way. That ache of too much love all at once.
She leaned down, kissed his forehead gently, and whispered:
“Good. Because I’m not going anywhere. I’ll be sticking to you like caramel.”
A small smile tugged at his lips as he curled deeper into her arms.
A few minutes later, his breath deepened. He’d fallen asleep — fully wrapped around her, like she was the anchor in a storm he hadn't even realized he was caught in.
Enya looked down at him for a long time, her heart nearly bursting with warmth.
She brushed a hand over his hair, and whispered into the quiet:
“You know, I love you more than coffee, too.”

Chapter Text

The weeks that followed settled into a rhythm that felt almost… normal. Almost.
Liam had finally found a place of his own – a small flat in Hackney, nothing fancy, just a couple of rooms with creaky floorboards and a permanent draft near the window. But it was his. After weeks of couch-surfing and crashing at Michael’s, being a nomad in his own life, this was the first step toward something resembling stability.
Lexy moved in with him temporarily, though she never used that word out loud. After explaining it to Michael – carefully, gently – she packed a few things and promised it was just to help Liam adjust. To be there in case the nightmares came back, in case the darkness returned. Michael had accepted it with clenched teeth and a heavy heart. Because he knew Lexy. Knew that, no matter what, family always came first for her.
He didn’t blame her. But that didn’t mean it didn’t hurt.

As the days turned into weeks, Michael felt himself fraying. Torn between understanding and resentment. He wanted to be patient, to be supportive, to believe that love could wait. But deep down, a quiet voice had begun whispering that maybe he was just a placeholder. A soft place for Lexy to fall when things got too heavy – but never the place she’d choose to stay.
Elsewhere, things had gone eerily quiet.
To Enya’s surprise, Scarlett had actually kept her word. The disturbing Reddit post with the stalker-like photos of Jayden had been taken down within days, and since then, she’d remained almost... invisible. No more unannounced visits. No more flirty comments or passive-aggressive games. Her communication with Jayden was limited strictly to studio hours – cold, professional, distant. And although Enya still watched her with quiet suspicion, she couldn't deny the shift.
It was almost disappointing. Like waiting for a storm that never came.

And Liam? Liam seemed better.
His sleepwalking episodes had vanished entirely, and Lexy credited it to the recent medication change. He hadn’t screamed at night in weeks, and the dark circles under his eyes were fading. He even smiled more. She started to believe he was really healing.
But she didn’t know.
She didn’t know that Liam hadn’t been sleeping much at all – that most nights he sat in front of his console, twitching with restlessness, high as a kite on cocaine and cold silence. That he only slept when she wasn’t home. That his quiet wasn’t peace – it was avoidance.
She didn’t know.

But in her gut, she knew:
Something was off. Something was coming.

**

London shimmered in the afternoon light. The streets still glistened from a light spring rain that had passed just moments ago, leaving behind the fresh scent of petrichor and a sky as clear as glass. The buzz of the city hummed beneath them like a comforting vibration, as if London itself was quietly breathing.
Lexy and Enya had taken the day for themselves — no obligations, no men, no drama. Just the two of them, roaming through Notting Hill, laughing too loud, stopping for cocktails in bars that played soft soul music, and soaking in the kind of lightheartedness that only comes in rare, precious doses.
Enya was a little tipsy. Not drunk, but just enough for her smile to stretch wider and her laughter to linger longer than usual. They had just settled into a small street café, tucked away in a quiet corner, with two cappuccinos warming their hands and the breeze gently tugging at their hair.

“You’re seriously telling me he stepped on your foot during your first kiss?” Lexy laughed in disbelief.
Enya chuckled, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. “He was nervous! It was adorable. I didn’t even feel it at the time — I was too busy kissing him.”
“You romantic little nerd. I swear, if you don’t mention that in your wedding vows, I will.”
“Only if you promise not to tell the story about punching that guy in the elevator for calling you by your first name.”
“He deserved it,” Lexy said with a grin.
Enya laughed again, letting the sound melt into the golden air around them. She leaned back on the bench, took a sip of her coffee, and let her gaze drift across the street.
And then it happened.
“Holy shit,” Lexy muttered.
Enya blinked and looked over. “What?”
But Lexy didn’t answer right away. She narrowed her eyes, peering over the rim of her sunglasses like she couldn’t quite believe what she was seeing. Her hand lifted slowly, like she was pointing at something dangerous.
“What the hell is that bitch doing here?” she hissed. “I thought she moved to L.A.”

Enya followed her gaze — and her stomach dropped just slightly. Tall. Blonde. Flashy coat. Artificial pink nails. There was no mistaking her.
“Scarlett?” Enya asked, keeping her voice even. “She’s the new social media manager for the band.”
Lexy’s head whipped around so fast it was a miracle she didn’t pull a muscle. “You’re kidding me. He agreed to that? After everything she did to him?”
Enya shrugged, suddenly unsure of her footing. “I mean… I know they dated. But that’s all he told me. Just that it ended… badly.”
Lexy gave a dry, humorless laugh. It wasn’t the kind of sound that belonged to a lighthearted afternoon. It was sharp and bitter, and it cut through the air like a razor.
“That’s the understatement of the century,” she said quietly.
Enya frowned, the tension in her shoulders rising. “Lex… what do you mean?”

Lexy leaned forward on her elbows, her voice dropping in both pitch and volume. “If Jay didn’t want to tell you, I respect that. But you deserve to know. And since she clearly isn’t going to crawl back under whatever rock she came from…” She gestured toward Scarlett across the street. “That woman isn’t just some ex. She’s the ex. The one who almost destroyed him.”
Enya blinked. Her grip around the coffee cup tightened. “What do you mean, ‘destroyed’?”
“I mean she manipulated him for years,” Lexy said. “She made him feel like he was nothing without her. She gaslit him, cheated on him, isolated him from everyone. And when he finally found the strength to leave, she flipped the narrative. Went on podcasts, gave interviews, played the victim. Made him out to be controlling, emotionally abusive — even violent. All lies. All performance. She edited videos, twisted his words, weaponized his silence. He was at the very beginning of his career back then. What could he have done?”

Enya sat frozen, heart thudding.
“And then,” Lexy continued, “when the hate started pouring in — when fans started turning against him, when strangers began spitting on his name online — Jay locked himself in his room and took a bottle of sleeping pills.”
The breath left Enya’s lungs like someone had punched her in the chest.
“They found him in time,” Lexy added softly. “He lived. Obviously. But something broke in him that day. And I don’t think it’s ever really healed.”
Enya stared across the street at Scarlett, who was now chatting animatedly with someone on her phone. The light from a nearby window caught on her platinum hair like a spotlight. She looked completely unbothered. Effortlessly put-together. Like she hadn’t nearly cost someone their life.
“Oh my God,” Enya whispered. “Why didn’t he tell me?”
Lexy’s voice softened. “Because he’s in love with you. And he wants to be strong for you. He doesn’t want you to look at him and see the broken pieces she left behind.”
Enya swallowed hard. Her fingers were white against the ceramic of her cup. She watched Scarlett step into a black cab, oblivious to the storm she’d just conjured across the street.
“Well,” Enya said quietly. “She’s not going to get another chance to hurt him.”
Lexy smiled faintly. “I didn’t think she would. Not with you around.”

Scarlett’s taxi disappeared around the corner, the hum of the engine fading into the distance. Lexy and Enya sat in silence, both staring into their nearly empty cappuccino cups. Neither said a word. The only sounds were the soft clinking of cutlery and the distant chatter of tourists at a nearby table.
“Fucking Scarlett,” Lexy muttered eventually, finishing the last sip of her cappuccino in one go. She set the cup down with a quiet clack and straightened up. “Come on, Ny-Ny, let’s go somewhere pretty and treat ourselves to the premiere of Emergence. I’ve had enough reality for one day.”
Enya’s face lit up instantly. “Oh my God, yes. That’s exactly what I need right now.”
She had been buzzing with excitement for weeks. While everyone else devoured teaser clips, mysterious Instagram reels, and Reddit theories, she had waited. Patiently. Not a single preview. No leaks. Not even Jayden’s studio demos.
“I want to experience it properly,” she had said.
Jayden had just smiled at her, shaking his head with amused affection.
“If you say so, darling,” he had replied, gently closing his laptop.

Lexy quickly paid the bill and the two of them stepped out into the soft glow of the early evening. The spring air was fresh and light, and the London streets shimmered in hues of pink and gold.
They walked back to Lexy’s borrowed car – a beat-up little Toyota that had seen better days but still ran like a champ. With the windows down and music low, they drove toward a scenic overlook on the outskirts of the city.
On the way, they hit a McDonald's drive-thru, stocked up on fries, nuggets, milkshakes, and more sugar than was legally advisable, and finally pulled into a quiet little spot with a breathtaking view of the skyline.
The city sprawled out before them, bathed in violet and amber light.

“How’s Liam doing?” Enya asked gently, dipping a nugget in her sauce.
Lexy took a slow sip of her strawberry milkshake before answering.
“I’m not really sure,” she said, honestly. “I think he’s physically doing better – thanks to the new meds. He hasn’t sleepwalked in weeks. And I haven’t heard him scream from nightmares in a long time either.”
“That’s great,” Enya said with a smile – one that didn’t quite reach her eyes.
“Yeah… it is.” Lexy stared out at the view. “But he’s been acting really strange lately. Like, his moods are all over the place. One minute he’s completely down, and the next he’s bouncing off the walls. And sometimes he gets... I don’t know. Kind of angry. For no reason.”
Enya nodded slowly as she listened. “Do you think it’s the medication?”

Lexy let out a long sigh and leaned her head back against the seat. “I think there’s something else going on. But he won’t talk to me anymore. And honestly? I don’t even know why I’m still there. He clearly doesn’t want my help.”
Enya turned to her, her expression soft and worried. “Don’t say that, Lex. Maybe he’s just going through a rough patch. He still needs you – even if he doesn’t know how to show it right now.”
Silence settled between them again. They both gazed out at the sprawling lights of the city below, lost in thought.

Then, out of nowhere, Enya sat up straight, her eyes wide.
“It’s time!” she announced excitedly, fumbling for her phone and opening Spotify.
“Oh my God, it’s up! Emergence!”
Lexy grinned and tossed her empty fries container onto the back seat. “Alright then. Let’s hear how our boys are welcoming spring.”
They shared a quick glance, then pressed play at the same time.
For a fleeting, perfect moment, the world outside didn’t matter. There was no pain, no confusion, no Scarlett.
Just sound. And heart. And hope.

**

The sky had already turned a deep indigo when the girls drove back through the city, the new Sleep Token single playing softly in the background. The streets of London glowed in warm gold and cool neon, the perfect backdrop for two giddy women who had just spent an unexpectedly perfect day together.
Enya was practically bouncing in the passenger seat, eyes shining. "Oh my god, that breakdown in the bridge? Are you kidding me?!"
Lexy laughed, one hand on the wheel, the other wrapped around a nearly-empty McDonald’s milkshake. “And Gabi's saxophone solo? Literal chills, Ny-Ny. Fucking chills.”
“I know!” Enya squealed. “I’m so glad I waited to hear it like this. Just—ugh. That was everything.”

As they pulled up in front of Jay's house, both were still glowing from the high of the music and the laughter.
“That was such a good day,” Enya sighed, stretching with a content smile. “We really should do this more often.”
Lexy nodded, the same warmth in her voice. “Yeah. It was nice… not worrying about anyone else for once. Just you and me, being ridiculous.”
Enya leaned back in her seat with a dreamy smile, but before the moment could turn sentimental, Lexy nudged her playfully with her elbow. “Alright, alright. Now go seduce your Vessel already. You’ve earned it.”
Enya snorted. “As if! I’ve been teasing him for days. Letting him stew in it.”
Lexy raised a brow, intrigued. “Oh really? Has the golden boy been naughty?”

Enya laughed, shaking her head. “Actually… no. He’s been insanely sweet. That’s the fun part. I love edging him just long enough until he loses control and turns into some kind of wild animal.”
Lexy let out a low whistle, impressed. “Damn, Ny-Ny. Didn’t think you had it in you.”
Enya smirked. “Turns out I’m full of surprises.”
“Well hey,” Lexy grinned, unlocking the doors. “Who am I to judge?”
Enya stepped out of the car and Lexy, never missing a chance for mischief, gave her a playful smack on the ass. “Attagirl. Go on, edge your husband until he devours you—skin and hair!”
Both of them burst into laughter as Enya waved her off and disappeared inside.

Still smiling, Lexy turned the keys and drove off into the night.
The moment she stepped into Liam’s flat in Hackney, however, the warmth of the evening was instantly ripped away.
She froze.
There, in the living room, was Liam—bent forward against the couch, his expression one of pure desperation. Behind him stood a man Lexy recognized all too well: Phantom. His body pressed tightly against Liam’s, his hand shoved down the back of Liam’s jeans, his hips grinding into him with disturbing familiarity.
It was as if time stopped.
Lexy couldn’t move. Couldn’t breathe.
And then, finally—her voice found its way out of the haze of shock and horror.
“What the fuck is going on here?!”

**

Liam was high. Again.

Time had lost all meaning. The days blurred into one another, the light outside was sometimes golden, sometimes gray – but in his small apartment in Hackney, it was always the same: dull. Silence, broken only by the occasional thrumming in his head and the flickering screen of the television that had been on standby for hours.

He hadn't slept. Not really. Maybe dozed off for a few minutes, but that didn't count. Sleep meant dreams. And dreams meant them. Blood, voices, screams. He couldn't bear it anymore.
Liam was pacing restlessly, his heart pounding as he tried to steady his breathing. He had just gotten off the phone with Phantom, and the shift in the dealer’s tone still echoed through his mind.
The usual cocky flirtation was gone—replaced by something far more serious, far more dangerous.
“I’m a very patient man, Liam. You know that. But even I have my limits. I’m nearby. By the time I get there, you’d better have my money. Or… an alternative form of payment ready.”
The line had gone dead.

Liam had stood there for a long moment, frozen in place in the silence of his overpriced Hackney flat.
Shit.
What the hell was he going to do?
He didn’t have the money. Hell, he didn’t have any money left at all. Rent had gutted his account, and the rest had gone into coke, booze, and mindless games to keep the demons at bay.
Panic began to crawl under his skin. His fingers twitched. His jaw clenched.
Was this really happening?
An hour passed like a slow-motion nightmare, each minute dragging him closer to something he couldn’t quite bear to name.
Then came the knock. Sharp. Casual. Too casual.
Liam flinched.
No way out now.
With heavy steps, he moved to the door and opened it.

Phantom stood there, grinning like a wolf in designer leather. “Liam, my best boy,” he drawled as he walked in without waiting for an invitation. “You look pale. Everything alright?”
Liam closed the door behind him, swallowing hard. “Fine,” he muttered.
“Oooh, well if that’s the case, I’m sure you’ve got a nice stack of crispy bills for me, yeah? Ready to settle your little tab?”
Liam stared at the floor, his voice barely audible. “I don’t have it.”
Phantom’s smile twisted into something sharper. “That’s not the answer I wanted to hear, Li-Li.”
But then, as if someone had flipped a switch, his expression melted into a more familiar, predatory charm.
“But don’t worry your pretty little head about it, sweetheart,” he purred. “You know I offer special terms to my favorite clients.”
Liam turned slowly, walking toward the couch like he was underwater, every step heavier than the last. He braced his hands against the back of it, dizziness clouding his vision.
He could hear Phantom stepping closer. Too close.

Liam knew it was wrong. That he had to lie to hide all this from Lexy. But it was so much easier to blow away the trembling in his hands with a line than with a therapy session. So much more immediate. So much… quieter in his head.
And Phantom wasn't just the dealer. He was a creeping poison that seeped into every fiber of his weakness. He said all the right things. Gave him what he wanted. And sometimes—in the moments when Liam couldn't feel himself anymore—he just let it happen.
Just like now.

His hands were on the back of the couch, his head hanging low, sweat running down his temples. He felt hollow, empty and too full at the same time. Phantom was standing behind him, much too close, his hot breath on his neck, his hand already far too far into an intimacy that felt like a loss of control.
Liam wanted to say something, anything—maybe "Stop," maybe "Wait," maybe just "No"—but his tongue was stuck to the roof of his mouth. It was all a blur. A torment.
A warm breath against his neck.
“Don’t think too much,” Phantom whispered, voice soft as silk. “I’ll be gentle. Promise.”
Liam closed his eyes.
Fuck.
How had it come to this?

He was spiraling, and he knew it. This wasn’t some rock bottom. This was the dark, rotting soil beneath it.
He felt Phantom’s hand slide down his back, fingers curling at the waistband of his joggers.
Just breathe. Just get through it.
He bit down hard on the inside of his cheek. The pain helped. A little.
He didn't hear the front door. Didn’t hear the footsteps. Didn’t hear the sharp intake of breath from behind.
“What the fuck is going on here?!”
Lexy’s voice cut through the air like a whip. Sharp. Horrified. Disbelieving.
Liam flinched as though struck, his eyes flying open.
Phantom didn’t move.

Lexy stood frozen in the doorway, keys still in one hand, her mouth parted in shock as her gaze locked on the scene in front of her—on Liam, bent slightly over the couch, and Phantom standing behind him, one hand buried in Liam’s waistband, the other holding onto his hip like he owned him.
Liam's heart stopped.
His throat dried up completely.
“Lex…” he croaked, unable to breathe. “I—”
She blinked slowly, once, twice. Processing.
Her voice, when it came, was quiet. Cold. Trembling with fury.
“Get your fucking hands off him.”
Phantom’s grin returned in full force, and he withdrew his hand leisurely, as if he had all the time in the world. He didn’t even flinch. Didn’t even blink.
“Well, well,” he said, licking his teeth. “Didn’t know we had an audience. You’re interrupting something private, sweetheart.”
Lexy didn’t even blink.
She walked forward, her boots hitting the floor with purpose, until she stood between them. Her gaze burned holes into Phantom’s smug face.
“You’ve got five fucking seconds to get out of this flat before I bury your teeth in your own throat.”

Liam’s eyes were still glued to the floor when Phantom, entirely unfazed by Lexy’s sudden appearance, calmly turned toward her with that same damn grin plastered on his face.
“Easy, lady,” he said casually. “Nobody forced anyone here. Your brother…” — he nodded toward Liam — “...owes me money. And when I offered him an alternative form of payment, he didn’t say no. If you ask me, it was strictly business.”
Lexy stood there like she’d just been punched in the gut. Her jaw clenched, fists tightening at her sides. The air around her felt electric — about to snap.
Then it did.
“Business?” she spat, voice trembling with fury. “You disgusting, greasy fuck! He had no fucking choice, you sick bastard! That wasn’t consent — that was desperation! You blackmailed him, you twisted piece of shit!”

Silence fell like a hammer between them. Then Lexy, her voice suddenly razor-sharp: “How much?”
Phantom blinked. “Come again?”
“How much does he owe you?”
He gave a lazy shrug, like he was pricing out sneakers. “About… seven hundred.”
Without hesitating for even a second, Lexy pulled out her wallet. She flipped through the notes briskly, like she’d already decided this was happening before he even gave her a number. Then she shoved the stack of cash hard against Phantom’s chest. He caught it instinctively.
“There. That covers his fucking debt.”

Phantom's smirk faltered.
He looked at Liam, who still hadn't moved. Still frozen.
Then back to Lexy.
“You’ve got bite,” he said slowly, adjusting the collar of his coat. “I like that. Dangerous women make life interesting.”
Lexy leaned in close, her voice now like ice slicing through steel.
“If I ever see you near him again — or near me — I won’t just call the police. I’ll dig up every filthy little secret you’ve got and I will make it my mission to bury you with them. You have no idea how nasty I can get when I want to.”
Phantom stared at her for a moment — maybe looking for fear.
He didn’t find any.
He finally shrugged, slipped the cash into the inside of his coat, and turned for the door.
“Suit yourself, princess.”
He gave Liam a final, almost affectionate pat on the shoulder—Liam shuddered—and turned to leave, whistling softly to himself as he strolled out the door like nothing had happened.

Silence. Thick and suffocating.
Lexy stood frozen, fists still clenched, chest heaving with restrained rage.
Then she turned slowly to look at Liam, who hadn’t moved. He was still hunched over slightly, white as a sheet, shoulders trembling just barely. He couldn’t bring himself to look at her.
He couldn’t say a word.
Lexy let out a bitter, hollow laugh — the kind that sounds more like a sob.
“What the fuck, Liam. What the actual fuck.”
Liam still couldn’t look at her. His chest heaved as he tried to form words. Tried to make sense of anything.
But the shame… the humiliation…
It was unbearable.

Liam was still frozen in place, barely breathing, eyes fixed on the door that had just clicked shut behind Phantom. He looked like a shell of himself — pale, vacant, trembling.
Lexy stood a few steps behind him, her chest rising and falling rapidly, still trying to make sense of what she’d just walked into. She took a small step forward.
“Liam…” she said, her voice soft, cautious. “Hey… it’s okay now. He’s gone.”
She reached out, slowly, trying to place a comforting hand on his shoulder.
But the second her fingers brushed him, Liam jolted like she'd shocked him with a live wire.
“Don’t fucking touch me!” he barked, spinning around with eyes full of fire. “What the fuck was that, Lexy?!”
Lexy blinked. “I—Liam, I was just trying—”
“You ruined everything! I had the situation under control!”
“Under control?!” she shot back, eyes wide. “That guy had his fucking hand in your pants, Liam! And you're telling me you had it under control?!”

Liam laughed bitterly, pacing like a caged animal. “Oh, give me a fucking break. You don’t know shit about what’s going on.”
“I know enough,” she snapped. “I know that you were about to sell your body to pay for drugs, and don’t you dare act like that’s normal!”
“I didn’t see you stopping me before, did I?” he spat. “You think I want to be in this fucking situation?! I’m doing what I have to!”
“No, you’re doing what’s easiest!” Lexy’s voice broke now, with desperation more than anger. “You're running from everything! From your pain, your past, yourself—”
“Oh, fuck off!” he shouted, finally rounding on her. “I’m a goddamn adult, Lexy! I can do whatever the fuck I want with my life!”
Lexy’s mouth dropped open. The audacity. The complete, willful ignorance.

Liam kept going, the words tumbling out of him now like fire. “If I wanna drink myself into the ground, if I wanna snort lines until my nose bleeds, if I wanna fuck my dealer to get high—that’s my fucking choice! It’s my life!”
Lexy’s voice trembled, but her rage only grew stronger. “Then why the hell am I even here, Liam? Why the fuck have I been wasting my time trying to help someone who doesn’t give a single shit about himself?!”
He looked at her then, wild-eyed, trembling.
“Because you think you can fix me,” he hissed. “Because you need someone more broken than you are so you don’t have to look at your own mess.”
Her hand flew to her mouth like she’d just been slapped. But before she could react, Liam delivered the final blow — soft, venomous.
“And maybe next time you try to off yourself… cut lengthwise, not across. Then maybe it’ll actually work.”

Silence.
A silence so loud it crushed the room.
Liam's face collapsed a second later, the horror of what he’d said catching up to him.
“Lexy…” he whispered, already reaching for her. “Lex, I didn’t mean—”
“Don’t.” Her voice came out hoarse and shaking. “Don’t you fucking dare touch me.”
She took a step back, fists clenched. Her whole body trembled with fury and pain.
“Do you have any idea what you just said to me?” she hissed. “Do you have any fucking clue what it’s like to live with those thoughts every damn day? And now you—you, the one person I thought would never use that against me—throw it in my face like a weapon?”
“I—” Liam’s voice cracked.
“Fuck you, Liam!” she screamed. “You wanna destroy yourself? Go ahead! But don’t you dare expect anyone to stand by and watch you burn without getting scorched.”
She turned and grabbed her bag, storming toward the door. Liam reached for her again, a broken whisper leaving his lips.
“Please—Lex, I didn’t mean it. I’m sorry—”

But she was already halfway through the doorway.
“Live with it,” she spat without turning around. “You're a goddamn adult, right? Then live with the consequences.”
And with that, she slammed the door behind her.
Leaving Liam alone.
Drenched in silence.
Buried in the weight of his own words.

**

Lexy stormed down the street, her boots hitting the pavement hard, arms clenched at her sides like she was trying to hold herself together with sheer force. The cold London air stung her cheeks, but she didn’t care. Her vision blurred — whether from fury or tears, she couldn’t tell.
How dare he?
The words echoed in her skull like a scream she couldn’t let out.
"Cut lengthwise."
Her breath caught, and something inside her cracked.
A strangled sob escaped her lips as she turned the corner, stumbling blindly into a quieter street, far from the main road. Her knees buckled, but she stayed on her feet. Barely. She found an alleyway between two old buildings and slipped into its shadow, hidden from view.
Her back hit the cold brick wall and she slid down until she was crouched on the concrete, arms around her knees, heart beating like a drum against her ribs.

The rage was eating her alive. Not just the anger at Liam — no, it was older than that. Deeper. It was everything. All the pain, the helplessness, the guilt, the fear, boiling over until she could barely breathe.
Her fingers trembled as they clawed at the sleeves of her jacket. She needed an outlet. Something sharp. Something to make it stop.
"No. No. No." Her voice was barely a whisper.
She clenched her fists, nails digging into her palms. The urge was screaming now. She could almost feel it — that bittersweet sting, the relief of pain turning into silence. But this time, she refused to give in.
"The anger doesn’t control you," she whispered to herself, rocking slightly.
"You control the anger."

Breathe in. One, two, three, four.
Hold.
Breathe out. One, two, three, four.
"You control it."
Again.
And again.

She pressed her forehead to her knees, repeating the mantra until the trembling slowed, until her thoughts stopped clawing at the inside of her skull like wild dogs.
The urge didn’t vanish — not completely — but it receded enough for her to think.
To feel.
And what she felt now was hollow. Raw. Exhausted.
She sat there for another minute, still breathing, still whispering to herself. When her heart finally slowed, her hand went to her phone, pulling it out with shaky fingers.
Michael.
His name on the screen was like a lighthouse in the storm.
She didn’t need to read through their old messages to know he’d be there in a heartbeat.
She didn’t want pity. Didn’t want to talk.
She needed release.
But not the kind she used to seek when she was breaking apart. This was different.
Controlled.
Safe.
Held.
Someone who knew how to take her pain and turn it into something she could survive.

Lexy stared at her phone with trembling hands, the contact name glowing on the screen like a lifeline. She didn’t want to write. Words felt too distant, too weak.
She needed to hear his voice.
She pressed the call button.
It rang once.
Twice.
Three times.
Then Michael picked up.
"Lex, it’s late. What’s—"
His voice was tired, a little gruff. He’d probably just come back from rehearsal. But the moment she opened her mouth to speak, everything inside her broke again.
"H-Hey…" Her voice cracked like glass. "Can I… can I come over?"
A pause.

Then a complete shift in his tone — soft, alert, concerned.
"Lexy? What’s wrong? Are you hurt? Do you need me to come get you?"
She shook her head even though he couldn’t see it, struggling to hold herself together.
"No, I… I’ll get an Uber. I just—"
She swallowed hard. "I need a session. Please. I… I really need it."
Michael exhaled slowly. Not out of frustration. It sounded more like quiet heartbreak.
"Alright," he said gently. "Come to me, Trouble. I’ll be here. I’ll get everything ready, okay?"
Lexy nodded, pressing the phone tighter against her ear, as if she could crawl through the sound of his voice.
"Thank you."
"Don’t thank me," he said, his voice a warm balm to her fractured nerves. "Just come home safe. I’m not going anywhere."

Chapter Text

The faint glow of the TV flickered across Michael’s face as he mashed buttons on his controller, his brows furrowed in frustration.
"Fucking hell, Dan! Again?!"
Daniel snorted beside him on the couch, not even looking up from the screen. "Mate, you keep rushing the corner. That’s literally the dumbest move in the entire game."
"Yeah, well maybe I like dying spectacularly. Ever think of that?"
Daniel chuckled, then launched into another combo that wiped Michael off the screen with brutal precision.
Michael threw the controller onto the coffee table with a huff. "I hate you."
"You love me."

Before Michael could grumble back, his phone buzzed. He glanced at the screen — Lexy.
His entire posture shifted in an instant. From slouched and annoyed to straight-backed and focused. A strange unease coiled in his gut.
He answered.
"Lex, it’s late. What’s—"
Then he heard her voice. Fragile. Breathless. Barely keeping it together.
"H-Hey… Can I… can I come over?"
Everything inside him stilled.
"Lexy?" he asked, already rising to his feet. "What’s wrong? Are you hurt? Do you need me to come get you?"
"No, I’ll get an Uber. I just— I need a session. Please. I… I really need it."
He closed his eyes. Shit.
"Alright. Come to me, Trouble. I’ll be here. I’ll get everything ready, okay?"
"Thank you."
"Just come home safe."

As the call ended, Michael stood frozen for a moment, phone still pressed to his ear.
Daniel tilted his head at him. "Everything okay?"
Michael ran a hand over his face. "Lexy’s coming over. It’s… serious. I think she’s not doing well."
Daniel’s playful smirk faded instantly. "You mean like… session-serious?"
Michael nodded slowly. "Yeah. And not the playful kind. The tone in her voice…" He trailed off, jaw tightening. "This is gonna be a heavy one."
Daniel stood, already reaching for his jacket. "You want me to vanish for the night?"
"You don’t have to—"
"No offense, mate, but if you’re about to do what I think you’re about to do, I really don’t want to be here for that." He gave a lopsided grin to soften the tension. "I’ll crash at a mate’s. You two take your time."
Michael gave him a grateful look. "Thanks, Dan."
"Just take care of her, okay?"
"I will."

**

The room was quiet except for the sound of soft rustling as Michael moved about, preparing everything.
He didn’t know exactly what Lexy would need. But the tremor in her voice, that desperate edge — it told him enough. It wasn’t just about release. This was damage control. This was survival.
He opened the drawer beside the bed and pulled out his gear — leather cuffs, rope, gags, clamps. Neatly arranged on the dresser.
His hands moved mechanically, each motion guided by experience and care.
Then his fingers brushed against the edge of a box — long forgotten, dusty, tucked in the back.
He hesitated.
No… please no.
He opened it anyway. Inside, a velvet-lined case of piercing needles — clean, sterile, arranged by gauge.
A relic from another life.