Of moonshine and memories | BoyXBoy

Unraveled

I lounged on the couch, savoring the rare moment of quiet after a short but busy day at work. I flipped through channels on TV and settled on a mindless sitcom, enjoying the distraction when I heard the front door swing open and slam shut with a rushed thud. I looked up, confused. Lucian wasn't supposed to be home yet.
A sense of unease crept in as I turned my attention to the entrance. He stumbled into the living room, and my heart sank at the sight.

"Luce?" I called out, sitting up straight. He looked pale, a sheen of sweat glistening on his forehead, and there was a distant look in his eyes that immediately set off alarm bells in my head.

His gaze flicked around the room, confusion written all over his face. "What are you doing home?" He asked, his voice shaky, as if speaking took too much effort.

"I got off early." I replied, concern etching into my brow. "Are you okay? You look-" I hesitated, searching for the right words. "You look rough."

"Yeah, been a rough day." He shot back too quickly, his words sharp but unconvincing. He tried to wave it off, but I noticed the tremor in his hand, betraying his attempt to act normal.

Before I could say anything else, Lucian swayed again, his legs nearly giving out. I rushed over, grabbing him just as he started to lose his balance. "Whoa, hey." I said, my grip tightening around his arms, steadying him. "What's going on? Why aren't you at the bar? I thought you were working tonight."

Lucian shook his head, avoiding my eyes, his expression unreadable. "I... couldn't." He muttered, his voice strained. "Just... don't worry about it."

But I could see it. He wasn't just tired or having a bad day. Something was seriously off. His entire body trembled like he was barely holding himself together, and he looked like he was seconds away from collapsing.

"Luce, you're scaring me. What's-" I started, but before I could get the words out, Lucian's expression shifted. Panic flashed across his face as he shoved me away, stumbling backward.

"Lucian!" I called after him, but he was already rushing toward the bathroom.

I barely had time to react before he disappeared inside, the door slamming shut with a sharp thud that echoed through the apartment. I stood there, frozen for a second, alarmed and confused, my mind racing with worst-case scenarios. Something was wrong. Terribly wrong.

I snapped out of it and rushed after him, heart pounding as I pushed open the bathroom door. The sight that greeted me made my stomach drop.

Lucian was huddled on the bathroom floor, his back pressed against the wall as he struggled to keep himself upright. His breaths were shallow and rapid, and he looked pale, the color drained from his face as he fought to regain control.

"Luce?" I whispered, panic creeping into my voice as I stepped closer. He didn't respond, too caught up in the wave of nausea wracking his body.

A cold sweat broke out along my skin. My mind raced back to darker times, when I had seen him like this before. The symptoms were all too familiar. The trembling, the pale complexion, the glassy look in his eyes...

I knelt beside him, trying to steady my breathing. "Lucian, talk to me. Did you... did you take something?"

His head jerked up slightly, but he didn't answer, still too sick to speak. My heart sank further. Fear gnawed at me as I watched him, the old wounds of distrust and uncertainty threatening to crack wide open.

"Lucian, for fuck's sake." I snapped, my patience fraying. "You look like shit. Did you take something?"

He glared at me, but it lacked its usual fire, his eyes glassy and unfocused. "I'm fine." He mumbled, though it sounded more like a plea than a declaration.