WHERE TO NOW? (M/M) 18+

Chapter 52

Trigger Warning: this episode contains materials some readers may find distressing. Reader discretion is advised.

Not Afraid, Not Exactly.

We'd been driving for hours—at least, that's what I'd guessed from where the sun sat spilling golden light across my journal. The light flickered through the trees as we passed them, soft and dappled, and the page fluttered gently with the breeze from the open window.

I was somewhere else entirely, my mind lost in the slow, steady lines I was drawing—Bleu's thick fur taking shape beneath my pencil, with the small chickens tucked into the warmth of his coat.

One foot rested on the dash, balancing my book as I sketched. I felt calm. Settled. The kind of stillness that only came in rare, quiet moments like this.

Damien hadn't said much, but he didn't seem tense. His window was down, one hand resting loosely on the wheel, the other draped over the gearstick. His posture was easy, settled back into his seat, not tense like he usually was. If anything, he looked like someone halfway out of his body—present, but not completely here. He looked lost in the kind of thought you don't come back from quickly.

The trees opened up, revealing a wide stretch of view. Open sky. Low hills. The kind of distance that made your chest ache a little, though you couldn't say why.

Damien watched it quietly pass. He didn't lean forward or try to take it in—just let it move past his window like it wasn't meant to be held. The wind caught strands of his hair, tugged them gently around his face, but he didn't seem to notice.

"Hey," I said softly.

His fingers twitched slightly on the wheel—small, unconscious—but he didn't look over.

"You good?"

There was a beat of silence.

"Yeah."

Too fast. Too even.

I didn't call him on it, just let the quiet hang for a breath before turning my gaze back to my journal. I smudged one of the pencil lines with my thumb, blending shadow into fur. "You seem... somewhere else. Quiet."

His shoulders lifted in a slow, loose shrug. "Didn't wanna wake you. You were—drawing."

I looked up at him.

His gaze drifted out the window. "Didn't want to pull you out of it."

I didn't say anything.

It wasn't that I was surprised he'd noticed—of course he had. Damien saw more than he let on, always had. But hearing him say it... that was different.

He didn't usually name things like that. Didn't often show his hand unless he had to. But here he was, letting something gentle slip through, like it didn't cost him anything.

I looked at him then. Really looked. The way he held himself, relaxed and open, wind in his hair, not fighting the moment. Not tense or distant. Just... here.

There was something about him like this that made me ache. Something I didn't always get to see. Something I didn't want to interrupt.

So I didn't.

I just sat with it—the quiet, the hum of the road, the breeze curling in through the windows. Let myself appreciate him in that small, silent way.

I let my gaze linger on him, and eventually he glanced over, just for a moment. A flick of his eyes like he could feel me, then they were back on the road.