Chasing Shadows

Chapter Sixty-Seven: Smoking Confessions (Part two)

They stayed like that for what felt like an eternity, foreheads touching, the closeness between them crackling with a mixture of nervous energy and familiarity. The city below seemed far away, the lights a distant blur as they sat together on the small balcony of Ethan’s apartment.

Zane let out a soft, shaky breath, the scent of cigarettes mingling with the faint sweetness of Ethan’s candy. He still couldn’t believe they were here—together again, after all the mess he had made. He turned his head slightly, his cheek brushing against Ethan’s, and then he pulled back just enough to look at him.

“You know,” he murmured, his voice low and thoughtful, “you really shouldn’t forgive me this easily.”

Ethan tilted his head, brow furrowing. “What do you mean?”

Zane sighed, staring down at his hands. “I mean… everything I did, all the lies, all the manipulation. It wasn’t just one mistake, Ethan. I chose to hurt you. Over and over again. You shouldn’t just let that go.”

Ethan was quiet for a moment, then he reached out, taking one of Zane’s hands in his own. His thumb traced small, absent-minded circles on the back of Zane’s hand, the touch surprisingly gentle.

“I’m not saying it’s all forgiven,” Ethan said softly. “And I’m not saying it’s going to be easy. But… I don’t know. Maybe I’m just tired of holding onto anger. Tired of pushing you away when all I want is to have you here.”

Zane looked up at him, his eyes searching Ethan’s face as if looking for the catch—the hidden reason Ethan was saying these things. But all he saw was honesty, and maybe a little bit of fear. Fear that Zane would leave again. Fear that this was all just a cruel trick.

“Ethan…” Zane whispered, his throat tightening. “I’m sorry. For everything.”

Ethan’s smile was small, but genuine. “I know you are. And… I’m sorry, too. For expecting you to be someone you’re not.”

Zane let out a huff of air, something between a laugh and a sigh. “Look at us, getting all sappy on a balcony. I’m pretty sure Asher would have a heart attack if he saw us right now.”

Ethan snorted. “Oh, he’d do more than that. He’d probably drag us to therapy and lock the door.”

They both laughed softly, the tension between them easing as they slipped back into familiar banter. It felt good—natural, like slipping into an old, worn-in pair of shoes. Comfortable, but with enough bite to keep things interesting.

“Speaking of Asher,” Zane said after a moment, his tone turning mischievous, “he’s going to flip when he finds out we’re… whatever this is.”

Ethan chuckled, leaning back against the railing. “Oh, absolutely. He’ll probably stage an intervention. But honestly? He’s going to have to deal with it.”

Zane’s smile faltered slightly, something serious flickering in his eyes. “Are you sure, Ethan? I mean… is this really what you want?”

Ethan’s expression softened. He reached up, cupping Zane’s cheek with his hand. “Yeah. It is. I want you. Even if you taste like cigarettes and drive me crazy half the time.”

Zane’s lips twitched in a small, almost shy smile. “I could say the same about you. You and your damn sweets. No wonder you’re always so hyper.”

“Hey, candy’s good for the soul,” Ethan shot back, grinning. “You should try it sometime.”

“Ugh, no thanks,” Zane muttered, making a face. “That stuff’s way too sugary. How do you not get sick?”

“Maybe because I’m not constantly inhaling smoke like you,” Ethan teased, his smile widening. “Seriously, though, you should cut back.”

Zane shrugged, his gaze dropping to the cigarette still in his hand. He hesitated, then ground it out against the edge of the balcony, flicking it away. “Yeah, yeah. Maybe.”

Ethan’s eyes followed the cigarette’s descent until it disappeared below. He turned back to Zane, his expression soft. “You don’t have to change for me, you know.”

“I know,” Zane murmured, shifting closer. “But… maybe I want to.”

There was a long pause, the weight of those words hanging between them. And then Zane reached out, tucking a strand of Ethan’s hair behind his ear, his touch lingering.

“Hey,” Zane said softly, a teasing note creeping into his voice. “You know, for someone who supposedly loves me, you didn’t really seem into that kiss.”

Ethan blinked, then burst out laughing, the sound light and genuine. “Oh, trust me, I was into it. It’s just… yeah, sorry, man, but you really do taste like an ashtray.”

Zane stared at him for a moment, then let out a bark of laughter. “Wow. Romantic.”

“Hey, you asked!” Ethan said defensively, still chuckling. “And you’re one to talk. You hate sweets, right? You probably thought kissing me was like licking a candy bar.”

Zane smirked. “Pretty much. But I guess I’ll just have to get used to it.”

“Guess so,” Ethan agreed, a playful smile tugging at his lips. He leaned in again, brushing his lips against Zane’s in a soft, teasing kiss. “But we’ll work on the whole cigarette thing. Seriously.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Zane muttered, though there was no heat behind his words. He let out a soft sigh, resting his head against Ethan’s shoulder again, the tension draining from his body. “If it means I get to keep you, I’ll try.”

They stayed like that for a while, the silence stretching between them. It wasn’t awkward or tense—just peaceful, a rare moment of calm in the storm that had been their relationship up to this point.

“So… what now?” Zane asked quietly, his voice muffled against Ethan’s shoulder.

Ethan hummed thoughtfully. “Now? I guess we take it one day at a time. Figure things out as we go.”

“Does that mean I can stick around for a while?” Zane asked, a hint of uncertainty creeping into his tone.

Ethan’s smile was warm, his arm wrapping around Zane’s shoulders. “Yeah. You can stick around.”

Zane sighed, closing his eyes as he relaxed fully against Ethan. “Good. Because I’m tired of running.”

“Me too,” Ethan murmured, resting his cheek against the top of Zane’s head.

They lapsed into comfortable silence again, the only sound the faint rustle of the wind and the soft snoring of Rascal from inside the apartment. Ethan continued to munch on his sweets, occasionally offering one to Zane, who declined every time with a mock grimace.

“Fine, more for me,” Ethan teased, popping another candy into his mouth.

“Knock yourself out, candy boy,” Zane muttered, smirking. Then, with a wicked glint in his eye, he leaned in and kissed Ethan again—briefly, just long enough to taste the lingering sweetness on Ethan’s lips.

When he pulled back, he licked his lips thoughtfully. “Not bad. Still too sweet, though.”

Ethan rolled his eyes, laughing softly. “You’re impossible.”

“Yeah,” Zane agreed, grinning. “But you love me anyway.”

Ethan’s smile softened. He leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to Zane’s forehead. “Yeah. I do.”

And for the first time in a long while, everything felt like it might just turn out okay.