Kai Langford -November 2120
My eyes feel heavy. Every time I force them open, darkness spreads through the room like ink bleeding into water, swallowing the edges of everything I can see.
It takes me a moment to understand where I am... my bedroom.
But how did I get here?
The last thing I remember is the shower. Steam, warm water, Ethan's presence close enough that everything else feels blurred at the edges... Then nothing.
My stomach tightens.
Ethan.
I shoot upright too fast, breath catching in my throat. The movement makes the shadows in the room twitch in response, curling along the walls and under the bed like something alive, unsettled.
Where is he?
Then I feel it, the weight around my waist.
Ethan is there, fast asleep, pressed against my side, one arm loosely draped over me like he will never let go. His breathing is slow and steady, completely at odds with the panic rising in my chest.
Relief hits so suddenly it almost knocks the air out of me. He is here and safe. I exhale shakily and just watch him for a moment, letting the sight of him steady me. His chest rises and falls evenly. His face is soft in sleep, tension gone.
I reach down carefully and brush a strand of hair from his face.
He looks fine... and so beautiful as always. The thought lands too softly in my chest, like it does not belong to something this sharp and fractured.
But then something shifts and my head feels like it splits open. Pain detonates behind my eyes, brutal and immediate. My hand snaps to my skull as I bend forward, teeth clenched hard enough to hurt.
The room wavers as the shadows jerk violently, climbing higher, reacting to something I cannot control.
I try to stay quiet. I can't wake Ethan. I can't make him worry again.
The pain pulses again, then again, each wave worse than the last. My vision narrows until everything feels distant, muffled, unreal.
And then It stops. Just like that.
Silence.
My head feels hollow now... Almost wrong. Like something important has been pulled out and left a gap where it should be. My thoughts slow, before they scatter...
.
.
.
...Where am I?
I stare at my hands like they belong to someone else.
...What was I just doing?
The question does not feel dramatic. It feels… blank. Like I am trying to grab smoke.
Why can't I focus?
The room shifts slightly. Even the shadows feel unfamiliar, no longer anchored to me properly. They drift lazily instead of responding, like they are waiting for instructions I cannot give.
"Kai!"
A voice cuts through the fog. Warm, sharp and real. Pressure touches my face and I blink. Ethan is in front of me, kneeling, both hands holding my cheeks. His eyes are wide, searching, frightened in a way that makes my chest tighten instantly.
How did he get there? He had just been fast asleep next to me.
"Hey," he says again, more urgent now. "Kai!"
Something inside me lurches back into place. My focus snaps together in uneven pieces, like glass fitting itself back into a frame.
I lift my hand slowly and place it over his, feeling the warmth of his skin. I lean into it without thinking.
"Ethan" I say, voice rough.
His eyes flick over my face like he is checking I am still here.
"Are you okay?" he asks.
I nod... I think I am. But even I feel the uncertainty in it and Ethan does not look convinced. His hands stay on my face. So I tilt my head and press a soft kiss into his palm.
"I'm fine now," I say, trying to steady my voice. "I'm fine, Ethan."
His expression shifts immediately. Something in his eyes breaks open. I don't like that look and I reach up and pull him into me. He collapses against my chest and grips my shirt tightly, like he has been holding himself together with effort I did not see.
"I was so worried," he says, voice shaking. "I was calling you, but you weren't answering."
My chest tightens.
He was calling me?... I didn't hear him.
I lower my head and press a kiss into his hair, holding him closer.
"I'm sorry," I murmur. "My head is just a bit foggy."
That is the closest thing I have to an explanation.
The shadows in the room finally settle, curling quietly instead of twitching violently, as if they are matching my breathing again.
I hold Ethan tighter.
"I'm okay now," I say, softer this time. "I promise."
Even after I say it, Ethan refuses to let go of my shirt. His fingers only tighten in the fabric, twisting it in his fists. I can feel the damp warmth of his tears soaking through my top, spreading slowly against my skin.
Guilt twists painfully in my chest. But beneath that guilt, hidden somewhere deeper and uglier, something else flickers too.
Relief.
A selfish part of me is grateful there is someone who loves me enough to cry over me. Someone who looks at me like losing me would tear the world apart. I hate that part of myself for thinking it.
My hand moves through his curls slowly, stroking them back from his face. They are soft between my fingers, warm from sleep.
Ethan mumbles something against my chest.
"What?" I murmur softly. "I can't hear you, Ethan."
He only presses closer and mutters something else, completely muffled by my shirt. A small breath almost escapes me despite everything.
"I still don't understand you."
He pauses for a moment before finally lifting his head enough to look at me.
His eyes are red and glassy, lashes clumped together with tears. He rubs at his nose with the sleeve of his hoodie before looking away briefly, embarrassed by how emotional he is being.
I reach up automatically and brush his hair away from his face again where they hang messily over his eyes.
"I said…" His voice wavers slightly. "I love you so much that sometimes it hurts."
The words hit me harder than the headache did. My chest tightens painfully as I stare into his eyes. They really do look like stars, so bright and warm.
And lately all I seem to do is make them cry.
I lean forward before I can think too hard about it and press a kiss softly against the corner of his eye, tasting salt from his tears. Then I rest my forehead against his.
"I love you too," I whisper quietly. "More than anything."
His breathing catches.
I hear the tiny sound he makes when he tries to force himself not to cry again, and I pull back just enough to wipe beneath his eyes with my thumbs before the tears can fall.
"You know I hate seeing you cry" I murmur with a small smile.
Ethan huffs immediately, frustrated.
"And you know I hate seeing you get hurt."
Fair enough. I do not really have an argument for that. So instead of replying, I reach up and aggressively ruffle his hair. He lets out a sound of offended protest instantly. By the time I finish, his curls are completely ruined.
Ethan stares at me in betrayal and I almost laugh.
Almost.
"Really mature" he mutters. His annoyed expression lasts all of three seconds before concern slips back into it again.
"Are you sure you're okay?" he asks quietly.
"Yeah."
"Really?"
"Really."
The second the word leaves my mouth, Ethan suddenly launches forward.
The force of it knocks me flat onto the bed with a surprised grunt as he lands on top of me. Before I can react, both of his hands are on my face again and he kisses me quickly.
Once.
Then again.
Then my temple.
My forehead.
My cheek.
Another cheek.
The kisses come fast and scattered, almost frantic, like he is trying to reassure himself I am still here beneath his hands. It is slightly ticklish, but I don't stop him.
"I missed you so much" he says breathlessly between kisses.
A small laugh finally escapes me despite everything, rough and quiet from disuse. He only kisses me again for it.
Eventually I wrap both arms tightly around him and pull him fully against me until his heartbeat presses against my chest.
"I missed you too" I murmur into his hair.
"You were asleep the whole time" Ethan mutters.
"That doesn't mean I didn't dream about you."
I mean it lightly. Almost teasing, but the second the words leave me, Ethan's breathing shakes again.
Damn it...
His face buries against my neck as tears start slipping free once more.
"Hey, hey" I whisper immediately, stroking slowly down his back. "Come here."
"Please don't ever do that again," he says quietly, voice cracking apart. "Please."
I close my eyes briefly and press a kiss against the side of his face.
"I was so scared," he whispers. "scared of anything happening to you. Or Noah"
The mention of Noah makes something cold twist sharply in my chest.
The thought of losing either of them feels unbearable. I would destroy myself a thousand times over if it meant keeping them safe. But I cannot say that out loud. Ethan already worries too much.
So instead I just hold him tighter.
"How could you do something that dangerous?" I ask softly after a moment. "Why didn't you wait for me to come back?"
Ethan shifts slightly on top of me, enough that I loosen my hold so he can lean back and look at me properly. His expression hardens with guilt immediately.
"I did it because I didn't want you going back there," he says quietly. "Back to the facility... Back to your dad."
My stomach twists. The shadows beneath the bed stir violently at the mention of him.
"But…" Ethan swallows hard. "Your dad already knew we were coming."
Ethan looks away after saying it, guilt settling across his face like a weight he cannot shake off. The room grows quiet again, but my mind does not.
Everything still feels foggy, pieces of memory drifting in and out like broken fragments I cannot fully hold onto. Yet no matter how blurred everything else becomes, I cannot forget walking into that room.
Seeing Ethan tied to that chair.
Blood running down the side of his face from somewhere near his hairline while he struggled weakly against the restraints.
And Noah beside him.
Unconscious.
Bruised so badly I barely recognised him at first, blood staining his clothes and dripping onto the floor beneath him. And his hand...
My stomach twists painfully.
His finger was gone.
The memory hits me so hard that pain immediately shoots through my skull again. I suck in a sharp breath and press a hand against my head as the ache spreads behind my eyes. Around us, the shadows begin moving restlessly across the walls and floor, reacting to my distress before I can control them.
Ethan immediately turns back toward me, concern replacing everything else on his face.
"Kai?"
But when I look at him properly, my chest suddenly tightens.
Blood is running down his face again. Fresh blood trails from his hairline, sliding slowly over his cheek exactly the way it had in that room.
For a second I cannot breathe.
I reach up quickly, completely forgetting the headache as I cup his face between my hands.
"Ethan-"
But the second my fingers touch his skin, the blood disappears.
There is nothing there.
No wound. No blood. Just Ethan staring at me with worried confusion, his skin warm beneath my hands.
I freeze, my pulse hammering unevenly in my chest.
What was that?
The room suddenly feels colder than before. Maybe I am still exhausted. Maybe my mind is mixing memories with reality. I swallow hard and slowly lower one hand back to my head, trying not to let him notice the slight shake in my fingers.
"Sorry," I murmur quietly. "I think I'm still tired."
Ethan continues studying my face carefully, his expression tight with concern. He always notices more than I want him to.
Before he can ask anything else, I lean forward and press a soft kiss against the side of his neck. His skin is warm, grounding, real enough to pull me away from whatever my mind is doing.
"I swear I'm fine" I say softly against his skin.
He stays silent for a moment longer, clearly unconvinced, before finally letting out a quiet sigh.
"It's late," he murmurs. "Let's sleep a bit more."
I nod slightly.
He settles back against me, fitting himself naturally into my arms as I wrap them around him again. The tension in his body slowly eases once he is close enough, his breathing gradually evening out against my chest.
The shadows around the room calm with him, retreating back into the corners instead of twisting restlessly across the walls.
I rest my chin lightly against Ethan's hair and close my eyes, holding him a little tighter.
But even then, sleep refuses to come easily.
Every time I blink, I still see blood.
I do not know how long I lie there holding him.
Time feels strange now, blurred together beneath the quiet darkness of the room. I stay still with Ethan tucked against my chest, listening to the slow rhythm of his breathing while shadows drift lazily across the ceiling above us.
Eventually his breathing deepens.
His body grows heavier against mine as sleep fully pulls him under, his chest rising and falling in a slow steady rhythm. One of his hands still loosely grips my shirt even in his sleep.
The thought makes something ache quietly inside me.
Carefully, I glance down at him to make sure he is fully asleep. His face is relaxed now, lashes resting softly against his cheeks, curls falling messily across his forehead. The tension he carried earlier has finally eased from his expression.
Good.
I wait another minute just to be sure before I slowly begin slipping out from underneath him.
The movement is careful and deliberate, like trying to escape a trap built entirely out of warmth and guilt. Ethan stirs faintly when my arm leaves his waist, his brows pulling together slightly in his sleep, but he does not wake.
I gently move his hand from my shirt and place it against the pillow instead.
For a second I just stand there beside the bed, watching him.
He really is safe.
Relief mixes strangely with the lingering heaviness in my chest.
I rub a tired hand over my face and quietly step back from the bed. The shadows follow automatically, stretching across the floor behind me in thin restless trails.
I cannot sleep.
Ever since I woke up, my mind has felt wrong. Heavy and fuzzy. Like there is static trapped inside my skull that I cannot clear no matter how hard I try. Every thought feels slower than it should be, and every time I close my eyes, flashes of broken memories force themselves back to the surface.
My headache still lingers too, dull now but persistent.
Maybe fresh air will help.
Or maybe I just need to get away from my own thoughts for a while before they swallow me whole.