These Cages We Build for Ourselves

Chapter 15

Aster tries to roll the tension out of his shoulders as he makes his way up the stairs, but it's not going away any time soon. He should have asked when Niko would be home and made sure he was gone before they had a chance to run into one another, but maybe that conversation had to happen. Niko could probably piece together exactly who Aster is with a few hours of dedicated digging, and sure, maybe Nash is right that it would be fine—but Nash has no idea what's really at stake. No one understands how far Aster's parents will go to get what they want. No one would stop them; they're too powerful, too well-connected.

He's almost to his room when Layna's voice cuts through his thoughts. He barely breaks his stride, but she's persistent, catching up to him at his door.

"Aster." Her smile is nervous, stretched too thin across her face. "Everyone was so worried about you. Sable said you've never disappeared overnight before, and we even tried to do a tracking spell, but it didn't work. But then Sable said you know about that sort of thing, so you might have done that on purpose—made it so you can't be tracked. Or maybe our spell wasn't very good..."

"Okay." Aster turns to his door as he fishes in his pocket for his key.

"Hey." Her voice softens, and then her fingers are trailing down his arm, coming to rest on his bicep with a gentle squeeze. The hallway light explodes behind her in a shower of glass and sparks and she lets out a surprised yelp and startles back.

Aster keeps his face carefully blank even as his heart slams against his ribs. This is going to be a problem, because he's very not okay with that. Her wide eyes widen further as he calms himself enough to activate his more sensible defences and lets malice seep out of him.

"Sorry," Layna stammers, stumbling backward. Her footsteps fade down the hallway as Aster faces his door.

He squeezes his eyes shut, taking a breath that does nothing to steady him, then unlocks his door and steps inside. For a few days, everything was almost... simple. Nash made it simple. He let Aster be exactly what he is—a little weirdo recluse—and somehow made it okay. Nash took care of him without trying to fix him. It didn't make everything better—his trauma isn't going anywhere—but at least he felt steady.

Now reality comes crashing back in, and Aster's alone again. He'll have to double down on being unapproachable, build his walls higher. That burst of uncontrolled magic is a warning sign he can't ignore. He has to stay careful—always so fucking careful—because he's always been volatile, even before he collected all this trauma. Maybe his parents had a point about him having too much power, but they can go fuck themselves. It's his power, and he's not giving it up.

A traitorous part of him wishes he could just call Nash up on his non-existent phone and make him come over here. He could watch Nash strip down, shift forms, and then Aster could just... pet his stupid fluffy head for a while. Would that help ground him? Or would it just complicate everything even more? This thing with Nash is uncharted territory. Aster can't tell if he's subconsciously trying to manipulate some benefit out of it through sentiment magic, or if he just wants... what? Comfort? Connection?

But anyway, he shouldn't do any of that. He's beginning to realise that Nash has put himself on a leash and handed the other end to him, and Aster's reluctant to yank it. It would feel wrong to take advantage, to push for more. Aster doesn't know what Nash really wants, and he's even less sure what he could offer. It took a lot of drugs to make him capable of having a normal relationship, and he's never even had sex sober. Hell, he's not even sure he knows how to be a proper friend. He's tried his best to drive Nash away, to avoid the whole mess, but Nash is stubborn as hell.

It would be easier if Nash would just give up.

It's tempting to reach for his magic, to try to make his feelings disappear, but Aster knows better now. If he wants to be himself—really himself—he can't keep locking away the uncomfortable parts. Even if it's hard sometimes. Most of the time. All the time. But he does want to be himself, dammit, even if that self is a mess.