Chasing Shadows

Chapter Fifty-Five: Comfort in Shadows

Ethan’s stumbling footsteps echoed through the hallway of his small apartment as he fumbled with the keys, struggling to push them into the lock. The world around him blurred and wavered, the alcohol singing through his veins, making everything feel like a distant, surreal dream.

Finally, he managed to turn the key and push the door open, almost tripping over his own feet as he entered. A soft whimper reached his ears, and through the haze, he saw a familiar shape rush towards him—Rascal, his dog, tail wagging excitedly.

“Hey, buddy,” Ethan mumbled, his voice thick and slurred. He knelt down clumsily, his hands reaching out to ruffle Rascal’s fur. “I’m home… I’m… I’m here…”

But as he petted the dog, tears welled up in his eyes, blurring his already unfocused vision. The meeting with Zane had left a deep, aching wound in his chest, one that throbbed painfully with every breath he took. Zane hadn’t said a word to him. He’d just looked at him—watched him—with that unreadable gaze and then turned away. Like Ethan didn’t matter.

The tears spilled over, and Ethan let out a broken laugh, his fingers tangling in Rascal’s fur as he tried to steady himself. “He… he didn’t even talk to me, Rascal. Can you believe that?” he whispered, his voice wavering. “Just… just left me standing there… like I’m nothing.”

Rascal whined softly, nudging Ethan’s hand with his nose as if trying to comfort him. But Ethan just laughed again—a bitter, hollow sound that echoed through the empty apartment.

“I’m… I’m a mess, aren’t I?” Ethan mumbled, tears mingling with his laughter. He staggered to his feet, almost losing his balance as he made his way into the living room. “Why does it… why does it always have to be so hard?”

He stopped suddenly, his breath catching in his throat as he looked up. There, standing by the window, was a figure—tall, familiar, and completely out of place in his apartment.

Zane.

Ethan blinked, his mind struggling to process what he was seeing. Was this real? Was he imagining things? He took a shaky step forward, his heart pounding painfully in his chest.

“Z-Zane?” he whispered, his voice barely more than a breath.

Zane turned slowly, his gaze steady and calm as he looked at Ethan. There was no trace of the cold distance from earlier—no hint of the indifference that had cut Ethan so deeply. Instead, Zane’s expression was almost… gentle. Amused.

“You still don’t support alcohol,” Zane remarked, a soft laugh escaping his lips. “You’re a mess, Ethan.”

Ethan blinked again, his head swimming. Was this really happening? Had Zane followed him home? “Wh-what are you… what are you doing here?”

Zane didn’t answer. Instead, he stepped forward, his movements slow and deliberate, as if approaching a skittish animal. He stopped in front of Ethan, his gaze searching Ethan’s face with a kind of careful intensity.

Then, without warning, he opened his arms.

Ethan stared at him, confused and disoriented, the alcohol blurring his thoughts. But there was something so familiar, so comforting in Zane’s presence that he couldn’t help but take a step closer. And then another. Until he was leaning against Zane, his face buried in Zane’s chest, his tears soaking through the fabric of Zane’s shirt.

Zane’s arms wrapped around him, pulling him closer in a firm, steady embrace. “You’re okay,” Zane murmured softly, his voice a low, soothing hum. “I’m here.”

Ethan let out a choked sob, his hands clutching at Zane’s shirt as if he were afraid Zane would disappear if he let go. “I… I missed you,” he whispered, his words almost lost in the fabric of Zane’s shirt. “I… I thought… you…”

“Shh,” Zane hushed him gently, one hand coming up to cradle the back of Ethan’s head. “Don’t think about it. Just… just relax.”

Ethan nodded weakly, his body sagging against Zane’s as the exhaustion and the alcohol took their toll. Zane guided him towards the bedroom, his movements careful and measured, as if he knew exactly how fragile Ethan was in that moment.

By the time they reached the bed, Ethan was barely conscious, his eyelids drooping heavily. Zane helped him sit down, then gently eased him back against the pillows, his hands lingering on Ethan’s shoulders for a moment before he finally let go.

Ethan mumbled something incoherent, his head lolling to the side. Zane watched him, his gaze softening as he reached out to brush a stray lock of hair from Ethan’s forehead.

“You really are a mess,” Zane murmured, a faint smile tugging at his lips. He leaned down, his lips brushing lightly against Ethan’s forehead in a fleeting kiss. “But… you’re my mess.”

Ethan shifted slightly, his brow furrowing as if he were trying to form words, but nothing coherent came out. He let out a low, frustrated sound, his body trembling slightly.

Zane sighed softly, his hand sliding down to cup Ethan’s cheek. “It’s okay,” he whispered. “I know it’s hard. But you’re not alone. Not anymore.”

Ethan’s eyes fluttered open, glassy and unfocused. “Zane…?” he mumbled, his voice barely more than a breath.

“I’m here,” Zane replied, his thumb brushing gently over Ethan’s cheekbone. “Just sleep.”

Ethan’s eyes slid shut again, his breathing evening out as he finally succumbed to the exhaustion. But even in sleep, he was restless, his body shifting as if trying to escape some unseen torment.

Zane watched him for a long moment, his expression unreadable. Then, slowly, he eased himself onto the bed beside Ethan, his arm draping over Ethan’s waist in a loose, protective embrace.

Ethan murmured something unintelligible, his hand reaching out blindly until it found Zane’s shirt. He gripped it tightly, his knuckles white.

“It’s okay,” Zane murmured again, his voice soft and steady. He leaned down, pressing another gentle kiss to Ethan’s temple. “I’ve got you.”

Ethan let out a soft sigh, his body relaxing slightly at Zane’s touch. But then, his brow furrowed again, a frown creasing his features.

“Callum…” Ethan mumbled, his voice thick with sleep. “Don’t… don’t like him… always… trying to…”

Zane’s eyes narrowed slightly, a flicker of surprise crossing his features. “Callum?” he repeated, his voice low. “Who’s that?”

“New guy… thinks he’s so… perfect,” Ethan muttered, his words slurred and disjointed. “Asher… likes him… but I… I know he’s not… good…”

Zane’s gaze sharpened, a thoughtful look crossing his face as he processed Ethan’s words. But he said nothing. He just nodded slowly, his fingers threading gently through Ethan’s hair.

“Don’t worry about him,” Zane murmured softly. “He doesn’t matter. Not tonight.”

Ethan let out a soft hum of agreement, his body relaxing further as Zane’s fingers moved through his hair in slow, soothing strokes. Every now and then, Zane would lean down, his lips brushing lightly against Ethan’s forehead or cheek, the contact fleeting but comforting.

“Just sleep,” Zane whispered again, his voice a gentle lullaby in the quiet room. “You’re safe.”

And slowly, as Zane’s hand continued its steady, rhythmic movements, Ethan’s body finally stilled. His breathing evened out, his grip on Zane’s shirt loosening as he sank deeper into the embrace of sleep.

Zane watched him for a long moment, his gaze lingering on Ethan’s peaceful face. Then, with a soft sigh, he settled down beside him, his arm tightening slightly around Ethan’s waist.

“Sleep well, Ethan,” Zane murmured softly, his lips brushing against Ethan’s temple one last time. “I’ll be here when you wake up… even if you don’t remember.”

And with that, he closed his eyes, his presence a silent promise in the darkened room, a shadow that lingered long after the world outside had faded into silence.