Chapter 49: I don’t belong here
Lucian chuckled, but his eyes stayed on Cassian. "Fine." He turned toward the door, then paused. Over his shoulder, soft enough for them to hear
"Daniel misses his Elliot."
And then he was gone leaving behind the scent of roses, and two names that didn’t belong in this world.
The door clicked shut behind Lucian, but Cassian didn’t move.
He stood frozen in the entryway, fingers still curled around the edge of the doorframe, knuckles white. His breath came shallow, uneven. The scent of black roses clung to the air dark, velvety, suffocating. And beneath it, the ghost of a name Elliot.
Aiden broke the silence first.
"So," he said, voice low but edged with anger, turning to Leonel. "He was the one you got in a fight with?"
Leonel rubbed his split lip, not meeting Aiden’s eyes. "Yeah. Why are you getting angry, though!" he said defensively
Aiden’s jaw tightened. arms crossed. "What did he even say?"
Leonel hesitated. Then, slowly, his gaze drifted to Cassian standing there like a statue, eyes hollow, arms wrapped around himself like he was holding his own pieces together.
"He just said something," Leonel murmured, voice rough. "And I lost my cool."
Aiden followed his look. Saw the way Cassian’s shoulders hunched, the way his fingers trembled slightly at his sides. Understanding dawned cold, heavy.
It was about Cassian.
Aiden exhaled sharply, running a hand through his damp hair. "God," he muttered, voice thick with exhaustion. "When will this all stop?"
Then he blinked. A memory surfaced sharp, unsettling.
He turned to Cassian. "Hey... he said something weird. a bit before he left." His voice dropped. "He said you were ’beautiful, even in the shadows of our house which we lived in.’
Cassian went very still.
"What house?" Aiden pressed, frowning. "We grew up in the same district. I’ve known you since childhood been years. I’ve never seen him before in my life. What house is he talking about?"
Cassian’s throat worked. For a moment, he said nothing. Then he forced a weak laugh, looking away toward the window, anywhere but at them.
"I-I... haha... I also don’t know," he stammered, voice too light, too fast. "His head must be crazy or something. Making up stories."
But his hands were clenched at his sides. His pulse jumped in his throat.
Aiden didn’t press. He saw the fear the way Cassian’s eyes darted to the wall, the way his breath hitched. He knew pushing would only make him retreat further.
But Leonel couldn’t stay quiet.
"He told me," Leonel said, voice low, fists clenched at his sides not in anger, but in helpless frustration, "that Cassian belonged to him before we even knew him."
Cassian flinched like he’d been struck.
He looked down immediately, eyes fixed on the carpet, as if the pattern could swallow him whole.
Aiden’s head snapped toward him. "He said what ?"
Cassian didn’t answer right away. When he finally spoke, his voice was so quiet it was almost lost.
"You guys... shouldn’t take his words to heart," he said, flat, expressionless. "He speaks nonsense. Let’s just... forget all this bullshit."
He turned and walked to the couch, sinking onto it like his legs could no longer hold him. He leaned forward, elbows on his knees, face hidden in his hands. Not crying. Just... empty.
Aiden and Leonel exchanged a look.
The same thought passed between them, unspoken but heavy:
He’s hiding again.
Aiden sighed, the fight draining out of him. He glanced at the clock on the wall. "It’s almost 12 p.m." He let out a tired laugh. "Welp. Our morning time went whoosh."
Cassian nodded faintly, still not looking up.
Leonel lingered for a moment, watching Cassian’s hunched form. His chest ached. He wanted to say something anything to pull him back. But he knew words wouldn’t reach him right now.
"I’m gonna be back," he said softly, more to Cassian than to Aiden. Then he turned and walked to his room, closing the door gently behind him.
Aiden stayed.
He walked over and sat beside Cassian on the couch, close but not touching. He picked up the half-read book he’d abandoned earlier some worn paperback with dog-eared pages and opened it to where he’d left off. He didn’t read. Just held it in his lap, presence steady, quiet.
For a long time, neither spoke.
Outside, the world moved on cars passed, birds called, the sun climbed higher. Inside, the air was thick with everything unsaid: the black roses, the split lips, the phantom house, the name that didn’t belong.
Cassian finally lifted his head. His eyes were dry, but shadowed. Exhausted.
"He’s lying," he said suddenly, voice raw. "About the house. About... everything."
Aiden didn’t look up from his book. "Okay."
"I’m not his," Cassian added, softer now. "I never was."
Aiden turned a page. "I know."
Cassian stared at him. "you mean it?"
Aiden finally met his eyes. "I know you," he said simply. "And the you I know wouldn’t belong to someone like him."
Cassian swallowed hard. Then, slowly, he leaned his head against Aiden’s shoulder.
Aiden didn’t move. Just shifted the book to his other hand and let him stay.
In the quiet, Cassian whispered, so low Aiden almost missed it
"I’m scared he’s right about one thing."
"What’s that?" Aiden asked gently.
"That I don’t belong here."
Aiden closed the book. Placed it on the table. Then he wrapped an arm around Cassian’s shoulders and pulled him closer.
"Then we’ll make sure you do," he said. "Every damn day."
And for the first time since Lucian walked through that door,
Cassian almost believed him.
The day dragged on in quiet exhaustion meals eaten in silence, books opened but unread, glances exchanged that said more than words ever could. By the time night fell, the dorm felt less like a home and more like a bunker safe, but fragile.
Cassian stood outside his bedroom door, hand on the knob, too tired to even feel fear until he sensed it. A presence behind him.
He spun around, heart leaping into his throat -
and found Aiden and Leonel standing there, side by side, expressions soft but resolute.
"Let us stay in your room tonight," Aiden said gently.