The world had changed around Ocean in ways that he couldn't quite understand, even though he had watched it happen with his own eyes. Months had passed since Skyler had come into his life, and yet, somehow, it felt like everything was teetering on the edge of something uncertain. The walls Ocean had spent years building were still there, but they were weakening, slowly crumbling under the weight of Skyler's persistent presence.
It scared him. More than anything.
He wasn't used to this. The closeness. The warmth. The way someone could stay without asking for anything in return. Ocean had learned long ago to keep quiet, to never speak too much, never reveal the things that haunted him. Silence had always been his shield, his defense against the world's betrayals. He had learned to carry his burdens alone, deep inside where no one could touch them.
But lately, something had shifted. Skyler was always there—patient, never pushing, never demanding more than Ocean could give. And that terrified him.
Sitting alone on the bench in the art room, Ocean could hear the distant sounds of students in the hallway. The laughter, the chatter—it all felt like background noise to the storm brewing inside him. He stared down at his hands, twisting his fingers together, his mind heavy with thoughts he couldn't quite put into words.
He had been carrying this weight for so long—this constant fear that everyone who ever got close to him would leave. His father had left, his childhood friends had moved on, and anyone he had tried to trust before had only ever let him down. It was safer to keep his distance, to never let anyone in far enough to hurt him.
And yet, here he was. With Skyler.
Skyler, who somehow had broken through those walls without Ocean even realizing it. Who had managed to stay, despite Ocean's silence, despite the way Ocean had tried to keep his heart locked away.
But it wasn't easy. The fear was always there, gnawing at the edges of his mind. What if Skyler left too? What if this—whatever it was between them—fell apart? It always did, eventually. Ocean knew better than to expect anything else.
The door to the art room creaked open softly, and Ocean didn't need to look up to know who it was. Skyler had a way of entering a room that was both quiet and calming, like the sound of the ocean lapping at the shore. He didn't say anything, didn't ask how Ocean was or what was wrong. He never did, not when Ocean was like this.
Instead, Skyler walked over and sat beside him, close enough that Ocean could feel his presence, but not close enough to intrude. They sat there in silence, the quiet between them heavy but not uncomfortable. Skyler didn't try to fill the space with meaningless words, didn't ask Ocean to explain the storm that was raging inside him.
And that was why Ocean stayed.
Because Skyler never pushed. He just sat there, quietly offering his presence, as if saying without words: I'm here. You don't have to talk. I'm just here.
Ocean's thoughts continued to swirl, the fears and doubts flooding him like a wave he couldn't escape. His life had changed so much in the last few months, and he didn't know how to handle it. He had spent so long avoiding this—avoiding the closeness, the vulnerability. And now that it was here, with Skyler sitting beside him in this quiet room, he didn't know what to do with it.
What scared him most wasn't just the idea that Skyler might leave. It was the idea that he had begun to hope—really hope—that maybe this time, someone would stay. That maybe Skyler wouldn't walk away like everyone else had. But hope was dangerous. Hope only led to disappointment, to broken promises.
Ocean clenched his fists in his lap, his chest tightening with the familiar weight of fear. He couldn't say it. He couldn't put it into words, because saying it out loud would make it real, and real things could be broken. So, he stayed silent.
Skyler didn't move. He didn't try to touch Ocean or ask if he was okay. He just waited, quietly, patiently. Ocean could feel the warmth of Skyler's presence beside him, grounding him in the moment, reminding him that he wasn't alone. Not right now.
The minutes stretched on, the silence between them growing deeper, but not awkward. Skyler had a way of sitting in the quiet that made it feel safe, like he understood that sometimes words weren't enough. Like he knew that Ocean needed time, needed space, but also needed someone to sit beside him when the weight of the world became too much.
Ocean's mind was still filled with doubts, still weighed down by the fear that everything would eventually fall apart. But for now, he focused on the steady rhythm of Skyler's breathing beside him, the quiet presence that had somehow become a lifeline in the middle of the storm.
He didn't have to talk. He didn't have to explain.
Skyler was there. That was enough.
As the afternoon sun dipped lower in the sky, casting long shadows across the floor of the art room, Skyler finally shifted beside him, his movements slow and unhurried. Ocean glanced over at him, catching the faintest smile on Skyler's face—soft, understanding, the kind of smile that said: I'm here when you're ready.
Without a word, Skyler stood up and stretched, his movements relaxed and easy. He didn't say anything as he walked toward the door, didn't ask Ocean to follow him or make any promises. Instead, he paused at the doorway, glancing back with that same gentle smile.
"I'll see you later, Ocean," Skyler said quietly, his voice soft but full of certainty.
Ocean nodded, his throat tight, unable to find the words to respond. But something inside him felt lighter, if only just a little.
As Skyler left the room, Ocean leaned back against the bench, closing his eyes and letting out a shaky breath. The weight of his burdens was still there, heavy and suffocating, but for the first time in a long time, it didn't feel like he was carrying them alone.
Skyler was patient. Skyler would stay.
And maybe—just maybe—Ocean could learn to trust that.
TBC. 🩵
