The mansion was silent when Lillian arrived.
Even the familiar hum of the heating system felt muted.
Her heels clicked softly against the marble floor as she stepped inside.
"Sebastian?" Her voice was careful, hesitant.
No answer.
She paused, listening.
Then—a faint sound.
Glass tapping against a table.
Her stomach twisted.
Lillian moved toward the living room, every step slow, cautious.
She stopped at the doorway and froze.
Sebastian was there.
Sitting on the edge of the couch, hunched forward.
A nearly empty whiskey bottle in his hand.
He raised it to his lips and drank straight from it, not noticing her presence at all.
His hair was slightly disheveled.
His shirt sleeves rolled up.
His blue eyes, usually sharp and commanding, were dull, distant.
She had only seen him like this once before—completely broken.
Her chest tightened.
"Sebastian…" she whispered.
He didn't look up.
Lillian stepped closer, kneeling in front of him.
Her hands rested gently on his knees.
"Hey… I'm here," she said softly.
Still nothing.
She lowered her voice further.
"You're not alone."
His head tilted slightly, almost imperceptibly, but he said nothing.
She reached for the bottle in his hand.
"Let me…"
He gripped it tighter, leaning forward until his forehead pressed against her shoulder.
Lillian froze.
"Sebastian... please."
The weight of him settled against her, heavy, but fragile.
She didn't pull away.
Instead, she rested one hand on his back, the other stroking the back of his head.
"Shhh… it's okay," she murmured.
"I've got you."
His body trembled.
A quiet sob escaped him, almost imperceptible at first.
"I… I failed… I failed… I failed him…" he whispered, over and over.
Lillian's heart tightened.
She didn't ask who "him" was.
She didn't push.
She simply leaned closer, keeping her hands steady.
"I know," she whispered softly.
"You're not alone. You're not. You're here. You're with me."
He shuddered again, gripping the bottle weakly before finally letting it fall to the floor.
"Sebastian…" she said, voice gentle.
"It's okay. It's done."
He didn't look at her. Didn't speak.
He just leaned harder against her shoulder, the tension in his body palpable.
He let out a shaky breath.
"I… I can't…" he muttered.
"You can," she said softly.
"You can lean on me. That's what I'm here for."
His head moved slightly, but his voice barely came out.
"Why do you care so much?"
"Because I love you," she said quietly, almost a whisper.
He flinched at her words, a shiver running through him.
She wrapped an arm around him, drawing him closer.
"Breathe," she said softly, one hand rubbing slow circles on his back.
"Just breathe. I'm right here."
A long silence stretched between them.
Then a shaky laugh escaped him.
"You… don't… get it," he whispered, voice cracking.
"I failed him. I… I let him down…"
"I don't need to understand everything right now," Lillian murmured.
"I just need you to know—you're not alone. Not for this."
His hands tightened in her lap.
"I… I should've… I should've…"
"You can't change the past," she interrupted softly.
"But you're here now. And you're safe now. We're safe now."
He let out a ragged breath, leaning back slightly, though still resting his forehead on her shoulder.
"You always… make it sound… simple," he muttered.
"It is," she said gently.
"Because you're not facing it alone."
Another pause.
Then, almost imperceptibly, he pressed a kiss to the top of her shoulder.
"I… I don't deserve this," he whispered.
"You deserve comfort," she said softly, stroking his hair.
"You deserve to be held. And right now… you are."
He exhaled shakily, the tremor in his body slowly easing.
"You… stay here…?" he asked, voice low and uncertain.
"I'm staying," she replied.
"As long as you need me."
He leaned back a little more, closing his eyes briefly, as if allowing himself to simply exist for the first time in days.
"I hate… feeling… this…" he admitted, voice quiet.
"I hate being… weak."
"You're not weak," she said firmly.
"You're human. That's all. Even you need someone to lean on."
Another long silence.
Then, finally, his lips brushed against her temple.
"I… I failed him," he whispered again, quieter this time.
"You haven't failed me," she murmured softly, heart aching.
"And right now, I'm all that matters. Let me be enough."
He shuddered against her again, the words lost in his chest.
"You… you really mean that?" he asked, his voice small.
"I do," she whispered.
"I'm not going anywhere."
He leaned a little harder into her shoulder, finally allowing himself to let go.
She adjusted, wrapping both arms around him.
One hand tracing the line of his neck, the other gently holding the back of his head.
"You're safe," she repeated softly.
"I've got you."
Minutes passed in silence, broken only by the occasional breath or small tremor of his body relaxing against hers.
"I… don't… know how to fix it," he murmured finally.
"You don't have to," she said.
"You just have to be here. Right now, with me."
He sighed, faintly, letting out a breath he had been holding for far too long.
"I… I can't… I can't do this alone," he admitted.
"You never have to," she whispered.
"Ever."
His forehead pressed against hers now, eyes closed, the weight of his emotions settling slowly into something quieter.
"I…" he began again, voice catching.
"I just…"
"You don't need to say anything else," she murmured, brushing a hand over his jaw.
"Just be here. That's enough."
Finally, he exhaled, letting go completely, melting against her.
And for the first time in days, Lillian felt him truly present.
No masks.
No control.
Just Sebastian—broken, human, vulnerable.
And she held him like he deserved.
Letting him lean on her.
Letting him be weak while she was strong.
Because right now, it wasn't about answers, or mistakes, or failures.
It was about being there.
For him.
And she would stay.