Stealing Your Heart

Healing in Silence || XVII

Author’s Note:

Hello, wonderful readers! ✨ After the intensity of the last chapter, we’re moving forward with Connor’s healing journey. This chapter picks up after the last, and we’ll see how Connor is starting to rebuild himself, even if it’s slowly. It’s a more reflective chapter, but I hope it resonates with you. Thank you for being on this ride with me. 💖

---

The camp was unusually quiet this morning, the kind of peaceful stillness that only came after a long night of laughter and noise. Connor sat on the steps of the Hermes cabin, staring out at the rising sun. He had woken up earlier than usual, not because of nightmares—those had been strangely absent—but because there was something settling in his chest. Something that felt unfamiliar and new.

Relief.

The weight of his past, the cruel words that used to echo in his head, felt quieter today. He hadn’t spoken a word about it to anyone, not yet. Not even to Travis. But that was okay. Connor didn’t need to share every piece of himself all at once. Healing wasn’t about rushing. It was about moving forward, step by step, on his own terms.

A slight breeze moved through the camp, rustling the leaves on the trees, and Connor closed his eyes, letting it wash over him. He could feel the warmth of the sun on his face, the coolness of the wind, and for once, it didn’t feel like the world was closing in on him.

It felt open. It felt like possibility.

---

Later that day, Connor found himself at the archery range. He hadn’t planned to come here—it wasn’t exactly his favorite place in camp. But something about the steady rhythm of arrows hitting targets felt grounding. He wasn’t the best at archery, but that didn’t matter. It wasn’t about being perfect today. It was about doing something that let his mind focus.

He pulled back the bowstring, his arm trembling slightly with the effort, and let the arrow fly. It hit the target, not dead center, but close enough. He smiled to himself, feeling a small spark of pride. One small win at a time.

"Hey, you’re getting better at that," a voice said from behind him.

Connor turned to see Malcolm standing a few feet away, watching him with an amused expression. His heart did that annoying little flutter it always did whenever Malcolm was around, but Connor pushed the feeling down. He had gotten good at that over the past few weeks—staying friends, hiding the part of him that wanted more. That part of him that would stay silent for now.

"Thanks," Connor replied, lowering the bow. "Just practicing, you know."

Malcolm stepped closer, folding his arms as he looked at Connor. There was something soft in his eyes, something that always made Connor feel safe, like he could be himself without fear of judgment. And today, Connor realized he wasn’t afraid. He didn’t need to hide behind jokes or pranks. Not with Malcolm.

"You’ve been quiet lately," Malcolm said gently. "Everything okay?"

Connor hesitated for a moment, then nodded. "Yeah. Just… been thinking about stuff, I guess."

Malcolm didn’t push. He never did. It was one of the reasons Connor felt so comfortable around him. Malcolm gave him space to talk when he wanted to, but he never pressured him.

"Well, if you ever want to talk," Malcolm added, his voice soft, "I’m here."

Connor swallowed, feeling that familiar tightness in his chest. He wasn’t ready to share everything with Malcolm yet. He wasn’t sure if he ever would be. But it was nice to know that Malcolm cared. That he was there, even if Connor didn’t say a word.

"Thanks," Connor said quietly.

Malcolm smiled at him, a warm, genuine smile that made Connor’s heart ache in the best way. For a moment, they just stood there, side by side, the sound of arrows flying through the air filling the silence between them.

And for the first time in a long time, Connor felt like he was exactly where he was supposed to be.

---

That night, as Connor lay in bed, staring up at the ceiling of the Hermes cabin, he thought about everything that had happened. The pain, the memories, the hurt he had carried for so long. It wasn’t gone—he knew that. Healing wasn’t a straight line. There would be days where it would all come rushing back, where he’d feel like he was thirteen again, trapped in the cycle of cruel words and self-doubt.

But tonight wasn’t one of those nights.

Tonight, Connor didn’t feel weighed down. He didn’t feel broken. He felt… okay. And maybe that was enough.

He rolled over, pulling the blanket up to his chin as his eyes fluttered closed. There were still so many things he hadn’t said, things he hadn’t let himself feel. But for now, he was content to let them stay in the background.

Because for the first time, Connor wasn’t afraid of his past anymore.

And that, he thought, was a pretty good place to start.

---

Author’s Note:

This chapter was a bit more reflective, but it felt important to give Connor this moment of peace after everything he’s been through. Sometimes healing happens in the quiet, in the little moments where we realize we’re stronger than we thought. 💖 Thank you all for reading and for your continued support. More to come soon—stay tuned! ✨