Ocean's mind had been a battleground ever since Skyler reappeared. For three months, the absence had been a slow, numbing ache—now it was chaos, like waves crashing relentlessly against his thoughts. He couldn't concentrate on anything for more than a few minutes. Skyler's face, the way their eyes had met in the library, haunted him everywhere he went. No matter how much he tried to push the memories down, they resurfaced, dragging him back into the storm of his emotions.
He told himself it didn't matter. Skyler had left. He had disappeared without explanation, without a word, as if everything they had built together—however fragile, however tentative—meant nothing. And now, Skyler was back, as if nothing had changed.
But everything had changed. Ocean had changed.
He spent most of his days avoiding the places they used to frequent together—the library, the art room, the quiet bench under the big oak tree in the courtyard. Places that had once felt safe, now filled with too many ghosts of what used to be. He wasn't sure if Skyler had even noticed his absence. Maybe it didn't matter to him, maybe Ocean was just another face in the crowd.
But Ocean knew better. He wasn't stupid enough to ignore the pull in his chest, the way his heart leaped and his breath caught every time he imagined seeing Skyler again. That's what scared him the most.
He knew what those feelings were. He wasn't naïve. The lingering glances, the way his chest ached when Skyler was near, the way his heart beat faster whenever Skyler had smiled at him—it wasn't just friendship. It hadn't been for a while.
But Ocean couldn't let himself trust that. Not after what had happened.
Late one evening, Ocean sat in his apartment, staring at the worn edges of a book he had been trying to read for the past hour. The words on the page blurred together as his mind drifted back to Skyler, to the way their eyes had met in the library after three months of silence. That moment—the intensity of it, the flood of emotions it had unleashed—played on repeat in his mind.
His heart clenched, torn between longing and anger. How could Skyler do that? How could he just leave without saying a word? And now, without so much as an explanation, Skyler was back, acting like things could simply return to the way they had been.
Ocean wanted to know why. His heart craved answers, craved understanding, but his mind screamed at him to keep his distance. The trust he had slowly started to build with Skyler had been shattered the moment Skyler disappeared. He couldn't let himself fall into that trap again.
You can't trust him. Not now. Maybe not ever.
Ocean rubbed his temples, trying to ease the tension that had taken up permanent residence in his body. His thoughts were a whirlwind, fighting against each other. I deserve an answer, don't I? But what would I even say to him? Do I even want to hear it?
He wasn't sure he did. Because even if Skyler had an explanation, even if there was a reason for his disappearance, Ocean wasn't sure he could open himself up to that kind of hurt again. His defenses had been painstakingly built, brick by brick, to keep people out. Letting Skyler in had been a risk—a risk that had blown up in his face.
But the truth was, despite all his defenses, Skyler had gotten under his skin. His absence had left a hollow space in Ocean's heart, and his return had cracked open every emotion Ocean had tried so hard to bury.
He couldn't stop thinking about Skyler. About how much he had missed him. About how much it hurt.
The next morning, Ocean sat alone in the art room, his sketchbook open in front of him, though he hadn't drawn a single line. His pencil hovered above the page, but his thoughts were miles away. His mind was a battlefield—one side urging him to walk away from Skyler forever, to lock the door and throw away the key, while the other side ached with the undeniable truth.
