Chasing Shadows

Chapter Forty-three: Broken Promises

The first rays of dawn filtered through the thin curtains of Ethan’s small apartment, casting a soft, muted light across the living room. Everything was still and quiet—except for the slow rise and fall of Ethan’s chest as he slept, his face peaceful and untroubled for the first time in days.

And then there was Zane.

He was perched on the very edge of the couch, his back awkwardly pressed against the armrest as if afraid to let himself relax completely. His eyes were locked on Ethan’s sleeping form, a mixture of longing and regret swirling in their depths. He shouldn’t be here, he knew that much. But something kept him rooted to the spot, unable to tear himself away.

Maybe it was the way Ethan’s hand rested against his own, fingers curling just slightly as if afraid Zane would disappear if he let go. Or maybe it was the small, contented smile on Ethan’s lips—a smile Zane hadn’t seen in so long that it made his heart ache.

Whatever it was, it held him there, even as every rational part of his mind screamed at him to leave. Ethan would wake up soon, and when he did… Zane wasn’t sure he could bear the look of confusion—or worse, disappointment—that would follow. He had never been able to handle the idea of being unwanted by Ethan, of seeing that trust replaced with indifference.

“Stupid…” he muttered softly to himself, the word a bitter whisper. He should just go. Dissolve into the shadows like he always did and pretend this never happened.

But he didn’t move.

Instead, he shifted slightly, easing himself down so he was half-reclining against the armrest, his other hand coming up to gently brush a stray lock of hair from Ethan’s forehead. The touch was feather-light, barely there, but it sent a shiver through Zane’s entire being.

“Why do I keep doing this to myself…” he breathed, his voice so quiet it was almost drowned out by the rhythmic ticking of the wall clock. “Why can’t I just let you go?”

Ethan murmured something in his sleep, his head lolling to the side until it rested against Zane’s shoulder. Zane froze, his heart pounding wildly in his chest as if Ethan might suddenly wake up and see him for what he really was—a coward too afraid to face his own feelings.

He stayed like that, holding his breath, waiting… but Ethan didn’t stir. He only shifted closer, his hand tightening slightly around Zane’s, as if seeking warmth or comfort.

Zane exhaled slowly, his shoulders sagging with a relief he didn’t want to acknowledge. It was selfish—everything he was doing right now was selfish. Coming here, letting Ethan cling to this false sense of security… all of it was wrong.

But he couldn’t help it.

He leaned his head back against the couch, his gaze drifting to the ceiling as memories flooded his mind. He remembered all the times they’d sat together like this, talking late into the night about missions and hopes and dreams. Back when everything was simpler, before he’d made the choices that tore them apart.

“Ethan…” he whispered softly, the name slipping from his lips like a prayer. “I—”

The sound of soft footsteps padding across the floor made him freeze. Zane’s eyes snapped to the side, locking onto a small figure standing at the edge of the room, bathed in the pale morning light.

Rascal.

The puppy stood there, his fur a mess of black and white curls that looked like he’d just rolled out of bed. His eyes—one brown and the other a vivid, almost unnatural blue—were wide and curious as he stared at Zane.

Then he opened his mouth, a tiny yawn escaping him before his nose twitched. The puppy’s gaze shifted to Ethan, who was still blissfully unaware of the intruder in his home, and then back to Zane.