Chapter 65: Different kind of love
Chapter 64
Nolan
"Seriously, why is your poop radioactive?" I mutter, holding my breath as I wrestle with Lanny’s diaper. "What are you eating, kid? Batteries?"
He kicks his chubby legs, babbling nonsense like he finds this whole ordeal hilarious. I finally get him cleaned up, tie off the disaster zone, and sigh in relief.
"There. Mission accomplished. Don’t say your old man never did anything for you."
He coos at me—big eyes, sweet little grin—and I roll mine. "Just like your father. Flash a smile, and everyone forgives you."
I scoop him up, pressing a kiss to his soft hair despite my complaints, and wander toward the balcony. The plan is simple: enjoy the sea breeze, maybe sit in one of the chairs, and let the ocean work its magic while this little demon drools on my shirt.
But then I freeze.
Out in the distance, down by the beach, there’s a familiar shape. A blob of red.
Ciel.
He’s sitting in the sand, hoodie pulled over him like armor, his arms wrapped tight around himself. That’s not unusual—Ciel likes the beach—but the posture is wrong. Too small. Too heavy. Like he’s trying to hold himself together before he cracks.
Something is wrong.
I look at Lanny, who gurgles up at me, completely oblivious, his tiny fist clinging to my collar. Then back at Ciel, alone in the sand.
I exhale, running a hand through my hair.
"Guess we’re doing this," I mutter.
Turning on my heel, I walk quickly back through the glass doors, across the hall, straight to Jack’s room. My knuckles rap against the door before I can second-guess myself.
A moment later, it swings open. Jack’s there in joggers and a plain t-shirt. He looks as awkward to see me as I feel being here.
"Hey," I say.
"Hello," he replies, clipped and careful.
The silence stretches uncomfortably between us. I clear my throat.
"Uh—look, I need to talk to Ciel about something. Can I leave Lanny with you for a bit?"
Jack blinks, then nods quickly. "Sure. Yeah. No problem." He takes the baby from me like it’s the most natural thing in the world, shifting Lanny into his arms. Lanny squeals and immediately grabs for his shirt.
"Right," I say, standing there like an idiot for half a beat too long. "Thanks."
"No problem," Jack repeats, already turning back inside.
I rub the back of my neck, awkward as hell, then walk away, heading for the beach. My feet crunch over the sand as the wind whips harder the closer I get.
And there he is.
Ciel.
Hunched, a splash of scarlet against the pale beach. His hoodie is pulled tight, his red hair blown constantly across his face by the wind, strands whipping and tangling but he doesn’t brush them away.
"Ciel?" I say quietly. He doesn’t answer.
I walk over anyway, sinking into the sand beside him. For a while we just sit there, the two of us, side by side as the ocean throws spray at our faces and the wind howls like it’s trying to rip the world open.
Finally, he speaks. "I’m selfish, aren’t I?"
"What?" My head snaps toward him. "Where is that from?"
"I am," he repeats, voice quiet but steady.
"No. You’re not selfish. You’re literally the kindest person I know."
"I am," he says again, and this time his voice cracks. "Our relationship... for over a decade all I do is take and take and take from you."
"That’s ridiculous."
"It’s true. You’re your own person, but it’s like I take that away from you. You always have to give in to me. I’ve taken that for granted."
"Where is this coming from? Is this about Jack? I don’t know what you two talked about, but that’s not true, okay."
He doesn’t respond.
"So what?" I say eventually, my voice sharper.
He turns to me for the first time since I got there, golden eyes dulled by the wind and guilt.
"So. Fucking. What?" I repeat.
"Nollie, you—"
"Don’t." My voice is low and shaking. "I wasn’t held at gunpoint. No one made me do shit. You don’t get to feel guilty for my actions. I made my choices."
I turn back to the sea, the horizon blurring. "Do you know what happens to me each time we get separated?"
He stays silent.
"My whole world stops. It’s devoid of color. It’s horrible. A world without you? I can’t do that, Ciel." My throat tightens.
"I love you. That’s what happens when people love someone—they want to see them happy. They want to be around them. They do everything for them."
"I know but—" he starts.
"Please," I cut in. "Look me in the eye and tell me you wouldn’t have done the same for me. That you wouldn’t go through hell for me."
He scoots closer, the sand shifting under his knees. Scarlets strands fall into his face and this time he brushes them back. Up close, with the wind in his hair and the salt on his cheeks, he’s so heartbreakingly beautiful it hurts to look at him.
"You know I would, Nollie," he says, and takes my hand.
And he’s right. I do know. Ciel Rosengarde loves me. It’s there in every look, every small act, the only difference is that the love we have for each other isn’t the same shape.
He presses his forehead against mine. I close my eyes, the contact a brand against my skin. My heart aches so hard it feels like it might crack open. This is the part where I wish I could kiss him on the lips, pull him against me and erase all of this.
Instead, I pull away just enough to press my lips to his forehead.
My lips linger on his skin longer than necessary, breathing him in, salt and wind and the faint scent that’s always been Ciel.
"I love you, Ciel," I murmur against his brow.
"I love you too." His voice is quiet, but it trembles just enough to make my chest tighten.
The love we both speak of is a little different, but that’s fine.
It’s fine.
I pull back just enough to look him in the eyes and interlock our fingers. My thumb strokes across his knuckles, a promise I don’t know how to keep except by holding on.
"Don’t you ever, ever feel guilty about the love I have for you—about what I would do for you—ever," I say, my voice low but rough.
"I would rip out my own heart for you and it wouldn’t be fucking enough." The words come out before I can stop them, stripped of all the shields I usually keep up.
He exhales shakily and tries to smile. "Please don’t. I kinda need you to be alive and with me for ages."
"Forever," I say. My lips find his forehead again, softer this time, but no less lingering.
But as I hold Ciel’s hand and press my mouth to his skin, another thought cuts through the tenderness like a blade.
Now what to do about that son of a fucking bitch.
Jack.