HIDDEN (FIGHT OR FLIGHT)

Chapter 33

DAMON'S P.O.V.

Dinner was a haven of warmth and laughter, a sanctuary from the world outside. I took my seat at the cozy table, feeling a surprising sense of belonging as Kyle settled to my left and Felix to my right. At the head of the table sat Emily, smiling with a motherly pride that softened the lines on her face, while Vincent, seated beside her and Felix, chuckled along with the rest of us.

The scent of Emily's cooking filled the room, a blend of spices and home. She made sure my plate was heaped with spaghetti and meatballs, the pasta perfectly tender, the meatballs rich and juicy. Felix looked at his towering plate with wide eyes, laughing as he shook his head. “Mom, there’s no way I’m finishing all this!” he exclaimed, his voice playful. But Vincent, ever the bottomless pit, grinned and declared, “Honestly, this might not even be enough for me.” His words were met with a burst of laughter as Kyle shot him a look of mock horror.

Emily’s eyes sparkled with warmth as she looked around the table, saying, “Nothing makes me happier than feeding my children.” Her words were filled with a gentle sincerity that made me feel truly welcome. Kyle grinned, nudging her with a mischievous glint in his eye. “Hey, Ma, why does Damon get the bigger meatballs? I call favoritism.” Emily swatted him playfully, shaking her head, a fond smile on her lips. “Oh, hush, Kyle! Stop being jealous of your brother’s food and eat what’s on your plate.” Kyle mumbled something about “playing favorites” under his breath, sending us all into fits of laughter.

After dinner, Felix leaned back, stretching as he glanced at the time. “I should get going. Logan’s probably wondering where I am by now.” Predictably, Vincent was up in a heartbeat, saying, “I’ll go with you.” It was like clockwork; his eagerness brought another wave of laughter around the table. We’d all noticed how inseparable he’d become from Felix, and it was impossible not to tease him for it.

As Felix and Vincent waved goodbye and stepped into the cool evening air, the house quieted, leaving just me, Kyle, and Emily. Emily gave us a smile before disappearing to her room, saying she’d join us later for the night cookout.

Kyle nudged me gently, a spark of excitement flashing in his eyes as he led me up the stairs back to his room. When he opened the door and headed straight to his closet, I followed with a hint of curiosity. But the moment he threw the closet doors open, my breath caught in my chest.

Rows upon rows of clothes hung there, an explosion of colors and textures that seemed to go on forever. Shirts in every shade of the rainbow, jackets with intricate patterns, and jeans stacked neatly on shelves. Each piece seemed to have a story, a life of its own, and it was all so different from the meager handful of clothes I’d ever owned. I’d barely had four shirts, a couple of jeans…nothing like this. But Kyle’s closet was a tapestry of possibilities, like a wardrobe in a dream.

Kyle watched me, a glint of anticipation in his eyes as he started pulling hangers off the rod, pressing each item into my hands with eager enthusiasm. “Come on, Damon!” His grin was infectious, his eyes bright and hopeful. “Just try some of them on. Please?”

I looked down at the pile in my hands, the fabric soft and unfamiliar. Part of me wanted to brush it off, to retreat. “Kyle, I… I don’t need this many clothes,” I said quietly, feeling suddenly small in the face of his generosity.

But Kyle just shook his head, his voice softening as he looked at me, something raw and honest in his gaze. “You don’t get it, Damon,” he murmured. “I’ve always wanted a brother—someone I could share things with, someone who’d wear my clothes.” He laughed a little, running a hand over the back of his neck in a way that made him look younger, more vulnerable. “When Ma told me I had a twin…Damon, I prayed for this day every night.”