Expelled and needing to transfer for his final year, Liam had known immediately where to go. It was the place that'd taken everything from him; that'd ruined him so absolutely it'd twisted his personality beyond recognition.
The place where he'd met...
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During the night, Liam left the warm cocoon of Charlie's arms to perch himself against the windowsill. His sweat-damp forehead kissed the cool glass as he looked past his dark reflection. He hadn't slept for long, he knew.
ㅤGlancing back at the sleeping silhouette that he'd left behind, he stifled a sigh. He would've loved nothing more than to stay in that nest weaved with the finest of Egyptian cottons, beside a man who was so unexpectant of him that he felt as soft as the pillows. But he knew he would wake Charlie up. In his absence, at least one of them could rest.
ㅤAs if haunted by a Victorian ghost tweaking at the sight of two men sharing a bed in his once-great manor house, Liam's body shivered without permission. Twitching, tensing, he scratched his own palm in trying concentrating all movement to one area. This reaction happened sometimes, and he could only wait it out.
ㅤHe didn't have control over his own fucking body, let alone his life.
ㅤSleepless nights like these always gave him the perfect environment to brood. The silence enticed thoughts to linger on the debilitating uncertainty plaguing his life: his family's lies, his resurfacing past, what the hell he was doing—and what he was going to do. And Charlie.
ㅤOh, Lord. Charlie.
ㅤHe couldn't help but stare at his peaceful sleeping form snuggled under the covers. The reality of what he was doing had never felt so intrudingly clear. It was no longer simple omission—Liam was lying. He was lying and betraying an astonishing trust he hadn't realised he'd received until the awareness struck him against this soberingly cold glass.
ㅤIt'd been easy not to take any of this seriously so far. As Mia had pointed out, he'd never thought any of this out in the first place. He'd rocked up as a new man with a spiteful grudge to tear the great Charlie Bradley down, not understanding that he himself wasn't the only person capable of renewing themselves. Charlie wasn't the same, so there'd been no revenge to seek. Having shallow sex was a fine way to take the edge off instead, as far as he'd been concerned.
ㅤBecause that was what it'd been. Shallow.
ㅤExcept he'd been wrong. Not only had his feelings developed under his nose, but Charlie had handed him his delicate and precious trust. And Liam had willingly taken it. Hell, he'd wanted it.
ㅤBut it was all built on lies.
ㅤHe didn't know what the fuck he was doing anymore. Liam and Rowan were one in the same, and he felt like shit because of it. He'd desecrated everything Charlie had entrusted him with when he was supposed to have cherished all of that—not make a mockery of it. Because that was exactly what he was doing by continuing this charade.
ㅤBetraying Charlie's trust was the single most important metric he'd refused to inflict from the very beginning. Yet, somehow, during the process, that was precisely what he'd done.
