Chapter 155: Red ears
Chapter 154
Nolan
I tap Ciel’s back quietly as he snuggles into me. Jack is back at the party,he didn’t want to leave, but he to.So Jack went, jaw tight, eyes dark, and now it’s just us in the dim quiet of our rooms.
Ciel’s fingers are wrapped in fresh bandages. The handkerchief he had on, is folded on the table, the blood already dried to rust-brown stains.
"I’m such a failure, Nollie," he says, his voice muffled against my chest.
"You’re not, Ciel."
"Today was literally Jack and I’s first public appearance." His fingers curl into my shirt. "I messed up."
"No you didn’t."
He makes a sound,half laugh, half sob. "I literally collapsed into his arms and made him carry me out. That’s not messing up?"
I hug him tighter.
"You did not. In fact, you were very brave. I heard from Jack you acted completely cool."
"Only to break down after," he says dryly.
"But you didn’t cower." I pull back just enough to look at him. His eyes are red-rimmed, his face pale, but he’s looking at me. Listening. "Better than me. I would have punched him in the face. You and Jack have amazing patience."
He snorts. It’s wet, shaky, but it’s real.
We remain in silence.I stroke his back the way I used to when we were younger, when the world was too big and he was too small and the only thing that made sense was this.
"As long as we’re here," he says finally, "I’ll have to keep meeting them."
"Unfortunately," I agree.
"But look on the bright side." I shift in bed, pulling him closer until his head rests against my shoulder, his bandaged hand curled against my chest.
"You are not someone they can push around anymore."
I take his hand in mine, holding it softly. His fingers are still wrapped in bandages, the white silk a stark contrast against his skin, but they’re still now. Not shaking.
"What made those bastards so terrifying," I say, keeping my voice low, steady, "was not their cruelty. It was their power. That made it impossible to escape their clutches anywhere in Solmere."
He’s quiet.
"But can you believe it?" I let a little lightness creep into my voice, the same tone I used to use when we were kids, when I was trying to convince him to sneak out with me, to take a risk, to hope.
"The one higher authority they can’t touch is the royal family. So now they can only watch you helplessly, stomping their feet."
He doesn’t laugh, but his breathing evens out. The tension in his shoulders eases, just a fraction.
"Think about today," I continue. "What would have happened had it been any other instance? Any other place, any other time, before Jack?"
He’s quiet for a long moment. I can feel him thinking, can feel the weight of the memories pressing against him.
"He..." His voice is small. "He would have dragged me away. And no one would have stopped him."
"Exactly."
"You’re right," he says quietly.
I hug him tighter, and he snuggles closer, his face tucked against my neck, his breath warm on my skin. His bandaged hand rests against my chest, and I cover it with my own.
We lie like that for a while.
"Nollie," he says eventually.
"Yeah?"
"Do you think it will ever stop? The fear?"
I think about it.About everything he’s been through. About the years of running, the years of hiding, the years of being someone else’s possession. About the way he still flinches at certain scents, the way his body still remembers what his mind wants to forget.
I don’t know if that ever goes away. I don’t know if he’ll just wake up one day and be okay.
"I don’t know," I say, because lying to him has never been something I can do. "But what I do know..."
I take his hand again. His bandaged fingers curl around mine.
"...is that I’ll always be here."
He’s quiet.
"Forever," I add, softer.
He nods against my shoulder, and for a moment, I think that’s it. That’s enough. Just lying here, in the dark, with his hand in mine and his breath steady against my neck.
Then Lanny makes a sound.
It’s small,a murmur, a shift in his sleep. But I’m already moving, easing Ciel off my shoulder, sliding off the bed. My feet are quiet on the carpet as I cross to the crib.
Lanny is on his back, arms flung out, face slack. His lips move, forming silent words that only exist in whatever dream he’s having. His fingers twitch. His breathing is soft, even.
I watch him for a moment. The rise and fall of his chest. The way his red curls are plastered to his forehead. The way he looks so small in this big crib, in this big room.
He’s okay. He was just speaking in his sleep.
I smooth the blanket over him, tuck it around his shoulders, and stand there for a moment longer than I need to. Just watching. Just making sure.
When I get back to the bed, Ciel is watching me.
"What?" I ask, sliding under the covers.
"You’re an amazing dad."
I roll my eyes.
"I changed a blanket. That’s not—"
"It’s not about the blanket." He shifts closer, reaching for my hand again.
"Whatever." I say, feeling shy.
He leans up and kisses my cheek. Then my other cheek. Then my lips.
My heart does a somersault.
It’s a quick kiss, soft, barely there. But my face is burning, my ears are burning, my entire body is suddenly too warm and I don’t know what to do with my hands.
"You’re blushing," he says.
"I am not."
"You are. Your ears are red."
"They’re always red."
"They’re not."
I turn my face away, but he catches my chin, gently, and pulls me back.
"Nollie."
"What."
"Thank you."
"You don’t have to thank me," I mutter.
He smiles. It’s small, tired, but real. "I know. That’s why I’m doing it."