The airport was chaos.

  Theo barely heard himself think over the noise of rushing footsteps, rolling carts, and the clipped voices of aid workers coordinating shipments. His foundation team moved with practiced urgency, weaving through the sea of volunteers and officials. Supplies had been packed overnight—medical kits, food rations, water purifiers—but it was never enough. It never was.

  Theo strode ahead, phone pressed to his ear as he skimmed the latest report. “Tell them we’re bringing in our own logistics team. We can’t afford another delay at customs.” His voice was sharp, but his focus didn’t waver. “Yes, I’ll handle clearance when we land.”

  Behind him, Isaac, his logistics coordinator, struggled to keep up. “The Ravensford team is already en route,” he informed Theo, glancing at his tablet. “They left on a military transport.”

  Theo barely reacted. Months ago, the mention of Ravensford might have made his stomach twist, but now? Now, there was only the disaster ahead, the thousands of lives depending on the aid they were bringing. The rest could wait.

  Or so he told himself.

  A familiar tension coiled at the base of his spine. He didn’t have time to think about Cassius. Didn’t have time to wonder if he’d be there. If he’d remember. If the months of silence between them had dulled the memory of that night, or if—like Theo—it still lingered, unwelcome but impossible to forget.

  A call came through from the field team already on the ground. Theo answered immediately. “We’re wheels up in twenty. What’s the latest?”

  As they rushed toward their plane, the air buzzing with urgency, Theo shoved every thought of Cassius aside. There were bigger things ahead. Bigger responsibilities.

  And yet, beneath it all, something in him knew.

  Cassius was already there.

  ---

  The moment Theo stepped off the plane, the heat hit him like a solid wall. The air was thick with dust and the acrid scent of burning debris. Even from the tarmac, he could see the devastation—the skeletal remains of buildings, tents hastily erected for the displaced, and the endless movement of people trying to make sense of what was left.

  The earthquake had left the country unrecognizable. Roads were cracked open, entire villages swallowed by landslides. Aid organizations swarmed the area, diplomats and military personnel working in tandem with relief teams. Theo barely had a second to take it all in before his radio crackled.

  “We need hands at the triage center—supplies just landed.”

  Theo was already moving. His team followed, unloading crates of medical aid, coordinating with doctors, setting up emergency distribution points. The work was relentless—shuttling between camps, meeting with local officials, negotiating for faster supply routes. His shirt clung to him with sweat, dust coating his skin, but he didn’t stop.

  And neither did the nagging sensation at the back of his mind.

  He hadn’t seen Cassius. But he knew he was here.

  It wasn’t logic—Cassius was a prince, Ravensford would send representatives, it made sense. No, this was something else. A pull, an awareness. Amidst the thousands of people moving around him, Theo felt him. In the space between moments, between calls and briefings and the endless rush of work, the memory of their last encounter surfaced—the way Cassius had looked at him in the dim hotel room, the weight of his hands, the heat of his mouth.

  Theo clenched his jaw. This wasn’t the time.

  The day blurred—distributing food, calming desperate families, navigating tense discussions between foreign diplomats and local officials. More than once, Theo’s gaze flickered across the sea of aid workers and military uniforms, searching. Always searching. But he never saw him.

  Not until the end of the day.

  When the sun hung low, bleeding orange into the ruins, Theo finally paused. He was reviewing the next day’s supply chain plans, exhaustion creeping in, when movement caught his eye. Across the camp, just past a line of UN tents, a figure stood in quiet conversation with another diplomat.

  Cassius.

  Theo exhaled sharply, pulse jumping before he could stop it. He hadn’t prepared for this. He thought he had. But as Cassius turned, as their eyes finally met across the wreckage of a broken city, Theo realized—months had passed, but nothing had changed.

  The weight of that night was still between them. And now, there was nowhere to hide.

  Cassius froze.

  For a fraction of a second, something flickered in his expression—surprise, maybe, or something deeper. Then, just as quickly, his posture shifted into something neutral, composed. The mask of a prince.

  Theo knew that mask well. He had seen it in meetings, in news broadcasts, in the carefully controlled way Cassius carried himself in front of the world. But now, under the dimming sky, with the ruins of a shattered city around them, it felt different. Thinner.

  Theo didn’t move. Neither did Cassius.

  The noise of the camp buzzed around them—voices shouting instructions, the hum of generators, the occasional cry of a child—but in that moment, it all faded. There was only the space between them, heavy with everything they hadn’t said since that night.

  Cassius’ lips parted slightly, as if he might say something.

  Theo beat him to it.

  “I didn’t think Ravensford would send you.” His voice was steady, but even he heard the undercurrent of something else.

  Cassius blinked, then lifted his chin slightly. “I didn’t think Bellemont would, either.”

  A flicker of something wry, something bitter. Theo’s mouth twitched, but he didn’t smile. “This isn’t about Bellemont.”

  “No,” Cassius agreed. “It isn’t.”

  A beat of silence. The tension between them was taut, stretched across months of avoidance, of distance that hadn’t really been distance at all.

  Cassius glanced around. “You’re needed here.”

  Theo raised an eyebrow. “And you’re not?”

  Cassius exhaled sharply, a ghost of a laugh. “That’s not what I meant.” He shifted his weight, crossing his arms as he looked past Theo, toward the makeshift hospital tents. “I meant—you always do something. You always know where to be, who to help.” He hesitated, then met Theo’s gaze again. “That hasn’t changed.”

  Theo swallowed. He could still feel the heat of Cassius’ skin from months ago, still remember the way Cassius had looked at him in the dark, the way he had kissed him like it meant something. Like it had terrified him.

  And yet, here they were.

  “You should get some rest, Harrington,” Cassius said, his voice quieter now. “You look like hell.”

  Theo huffed a short laugh. “So do you.”

  For the first time, something almost like a smile ghosted across Cassius’ lips. But then, just as quickly as it came, it was gone.

  “We’ll see each other tomorrow,” Cassius said, and it wasn’t a question. It was inevitable.

  Theo didn’t answer, but they both knew the truth.

  There was no avoiding this. Not this time.

  ---

  The next morning, the camp was quieter. Not silent—there was no such thing as silence in a disaster zone—but the chaos had settled into something more structured. Aid workers moved with clearer direction, supply chains were stabilizing, and the initial panic had given way to methodical recovery efforts.

  Theo was already moving before the sun had fully risen. He barely stopped to eat, checking inventory, coordinating with the medical teams, ensuring their supply routes remained open. His phone buzzed endlessly—updates from his team, urgent requests, government officials needing answers.

  Cassius watched from a distance.

  He wasn’t sure what he expected, but it wasn’t this.

  Theo was sharp in meetings, in arguments, in places where words were weapons and knowledge was a shield. But here—here, he was something else entirely.

  Cassius saw the way Theo moved through the camp, sleeves rolled up, dirt smudged across his wrist. The way doctors and volunteers called his name, not with the formality one would use for a noble or a diplomat, but with the familiarity of someone they relied on. He wasn’t giving orders—he was in it, carrying supply crates, checking wounds, speaking to survivors.

  Cassius had spent his life in war rooms, at tables where men decided things from a distance. Watching Theo now, he understood, perhaps for the first time, that there were different kinds of battles.

  Theo was in the thick of his.

  A soldier in his own right.

  Cassius’ fingers curled at his side, a strange feeling settling in his chest.

  He had always known Theo was capable, had always admired his intelligence—even when it infuriated him. But this was something else. This was a side of Theo Cassius had never truly seen before.

  And he couldn’t look away.

  ---

  The night settled over the camp, bringing with it a deceptive stillness. The air was thick with exhaustion, the scent of earth and smoke lingering after a day spent pulling bodies from rubble, setting up emergency shelters, and distributing what little aid they had.

  The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

  Most of the volunteers had retreated to their tents, catching whatever rest they could before the next wave of crises. But not Theo.

  Theo was still moving.

  Even now, long after the sun had set, he was bent over a table in the command tent, coordinating with military doctors, adjusting supply allocations, making sure the right aid was getting to the right places. Every time someone told him to rest, he waved them off, and every time someone tried to take over, he found another problem that needed solving.

  By the time he finally stepped into his own tent, exhaustion weighed heavily on him. His body ached, his arms were littered with scratches from pulling survivors free, and he hadn’t eaten anything except whatever stale protein bar someone had shoved into his hand hours ago.

  He barely noticed the figure waiting for him.

  Cassius stood just inside, holding a small tray with food and a bottle of water. There was also a first-aid kit tucked under his arm.

  “You look like hell,” Cassius said, stepping forward without waiting for permission.

  Theo exhaled, too tired to argue. “That’s funny. I feel great.”

  Cassius gave him a flat look before setting the tray down on a small crate. “You’ve barely eaten.”

  “I’ll eat later.”

  “You won’t.” Cassius knelt, opening the first-aid kit with practiced efficiency. “Give me your hand.”

  Theo hesitated, but Cassius only sighed, reaching out and grabbing Theo’s wrist himself.

  There were small cuts along his skin, smudges of dirt and dried blood from a day spent digging through wreckage. Cassius’ touch was careful, but the disinfectant still stung.

  Theo flinched. “You don’t have to—”

  “I know.” Cassius’ voice was quiet, steady. “Let me, anyway.”

  Theo swallowed, watching as Cassius methodically cleaned the wounds, the flickering lantern casting soft shadows over his face.

  For the first time that day, Theo didn’t move. Didn’t think about the next task, the next crisis.

  He just sat there, as Cassius took care of him.

  Theo felt the weight pressing down on him—hours of exhaustion, the relentless pull of responsibility, the sheer magnitude of what they were facing. But as Cassius carefully wrapped a bandage around his wrist, something in him cracked just enough to let it all seep through.

  He exhaled, slow and heavy, and before he could stop himself, he leaned forward.

  Cassius stilled.

  For a moment, Theo just let himself exist in that space—the warmth of another person, the solid presence of someone who wasn’t demanding anything from him, who wasn’t asking him to be stronger, to keep pushing. Cassius didn’t pull away. He didn’t speak. He just let Theo rest against him.

  Theo felt his own breath shudder, barely audible over the distant sounds of the camp outside.

  “…Glad you’re here,” he murmured, his voice rough from wear.

  Cassius let out the softest breath, something unreadable flickering in his gaze. Then, without a word, he reached for the tray.

  “Eat.”

  Theo made a tired noise of protest, but Cassius gave him a look—one that left no room for argument. He picked up a piece of bread, tearing it carefully before holding it up to Theo.

  Theo sighed, but he opened his mouth anyway. The moment the food hit his tongue, he realized how hungry he actually was.

  Cassius fed him slowly, piece by piece, making sure he actually chewed, actually swallowed. His fingers brushed against Theo’s lips every so often, light and fleeting. Theo wasn’t sure if Cassius even realized.

  But then Cassius’ hand drifted higher.

  A thumb against his cheek, the gentlest stroke against the bruise forming just below his eye. His touch was careful, hesitant, as if testing a boundary neither of them had spoken about.

  Theo didn’t stop him.

  Didn’t pull away when Cassius’ fingers trailed down, brushing the edge of his jaw.

  Didn’t stop the way his eyes fluttered closed at the warmth, the softness, the quiet weight of something unspoken settling between them.

  For the first time in months, the exhaustion in Theo’s body felt a little less crushing.

  Because Cassius was here.

  Theo didn’t think—he just moved.

  The space between them was already so small, his body already drawn to Cassius like a force he couldn’t resist. His lips brushed against Cassius' softly at first, just a breath of contact, but the moment he felt the warmth of Cassius' mouth, something inside him snapped.

  Cassius didn't hesitate.

  He met Theo halfway, pressing in, his fingers tightening against Theo’s jaw as if to hold him there—to keep him from pulling away. Theo had no intention of doing so. He tilted his head, deepening the kiss, letting himself get lost in it.

  It was heat and desperation, a hunger that neither of them had been able to name until now. Theo could taste it on Cassius’ lips, could feel it in the way Cassius exhaled sharply against him, like he’d been holding his breath all this time.

  Theo shifted closer, their bodies brushing, the weight of exhaustion forgotten under the urgency of touch. Cassius’ hands slid down, gripping his arms, his waist, pulling him even closer until there was barely anything left between them.

  Theo broke the kiss just long enough to breathe, to drag his mouth along Cassius’ jaw, tasting the salt of his skin. Cassius' breath hitched, his fingers threading into Theo’s hair, holding him there as if afraid this moment would slip away.

  "I missed you," Theo murmured, his lips ghosting against Cassius' pulse, feeling the way it jumped under his touch.

  Cassius let out a soft, shaky exhale. "You never called."

  Theo closed his eyes, pressing his forehead to Cassius’. "I know."

  But there was no anger in Cassius’ voice. No accusation. Just the weight of the months they’d spent apart, the nights they’d spent thinking of this, of each other.

  Theo cupped Cassius’ face, brushing his thumb over his cheekbone, his lips hovering just over Cassius'. "Tell me to stop."

  Cassius didn’t.

  Instead, he kissed him again, slower this time, lingering. Like he had all the time in the world. Like he wasn’t planning on letting Theo go anytime soon.

  The urgency shattered the quiet between them. Theo’s comm buzzed, the sharp vibration against the small table breaking through the heat of the moment. He tore himself away from Cassius' lips, breath uneven as he answered.

  “Theo here.”

  “The east sector—one of the buildings collapsed. We’ve got people trapped inside.”

  Theo’s body tensed, all traces of exhaustion vanishing. “How bad?”

  “Bad. We need you here now.”

  He was already moving, grabbing his boots, his vest. Cassius stood as well. “I’m coming with you.”

  Theo shook his head, still fastening the straps of his vest. “No. Stay here.”

  Cassius scoffed. “You really think I’m staying behind?”

  Theo turned, eyes dark with something unreadable. “This isn’t a debate, Cass.”

  Cassius met his gaze, unwavering. “I don’t care.”

  A muscle in Theo’s jaw twitched. The resistance, the absolute certainty in Cassius' voice—it was infuriating. And yet, it was also grounding. Cassius had never been one to stay behind.

  Theo exhaled sharply, and in one swift motion, he grabbed Cassius by the collar and pulled him in. Their mouths met again, fierce and urgent, a collision of breath and heat and something deeper neither of them dared name.

  When Theo pulled away, his forehead lingered against Cassius’. His voice was low, rough. “Then stay close.”

  And with that, they stepped out of the tent and into the night, where chaos awaited them once more.

  The night air was thick with dust and the acrid scent of smoke. The moment Theo and Cassius arrived at the collapse site, the sheer scale of the destruction hit them like a physical force. The building—a medical station hastily set up for the injured—was now a pile of shattered concrete and twisted metal. Cries for help rang through the air, some weak, others desperate.

  Floodlights cast eerie shadows over the wreckage as soldiers, volunteers, and medical personnel scrambled to extract survivors. The military had already set up perimeter lights, and search teams with thermal scanners were moving quickly, trying to locate those still trapped beneath the debris.

  Theo didn’t hesitate. He strode forward, his mind already assessing the situation. “Who’s in charge here?” he called out over the noise.

  A field officer, dirt-streaked and visibly exhausted, turned to him. “Dr. Harrington?”

  Theo nodded sharply. He never care people don’t call him by his title.

  The officer wiped sweat from his brow. “We’ve got at least twelve people unaccounted for. Some might be deeper in. We’re stabilizing what we can, but it’s delicate—one wrong move, and we could bring the rest of it down.”

  Theo’s eyes swept the wreckage. His foundation had trained him for situations like this, but it never got easier. “Where’s the last known location of the medical team?”

  “Somewhere near the center. We’re still picking up faint signals.”

  Theo turned to Cassius. “Stay back. I mean it.”

  Cassius’ jaw tightened, but he said nothing. He understood—Theo was stepping into something dangerous.

  Without another word, Theo grabbed a helmet from a passing soldier and moved forward. The night stretched ahead, thick with dust, noise, and the weight of countless lives depending on them.

  Theo moved swiftly through the wreckage, his sharp eyes scanning the unstable ruins for any signs of life. The heat from the collapsed building made the air thick, and dust clung to his skin. His team, already spread out, worked in sync with the military personnel. He could hear radios crackling, voices calling out coordinates, and the occasional sound of shifting rubble as rescue workers pried open pathways.

  "Dr. Harrington!" One of the search team members called out. "We've found survivors beneath the east wing collapse!"

  Theo rushed forward, crouching beside the team as they assessed the situation. A metal beam had fallen at an angle, trapping at least three people beneath it. Their breathing was shallow, and they were barely conscious.

  “We need a hydraulic jack and stretchers here now!” Theo barked into his radio, urgency tightening his voice.

  Cassius, who had ignored Theo’s earlier warning, stepped up beside him. “Tell me what to do.”

  Theo turned to snap at him, but one look at Cassius’ determined face stopped him. There was no point arguing. “Help secure the area. If the structure shifts, we need to evacuate immediately.”

  Cassius nodded and joined the team stabilizing the wreckage. He moved with surprising efficiency, gripping a support beam and helping reinforce a safe path.

  The hydraulic jack arrived, and Theo positioned it with practiced precision. As the machine whined and the beam lifted inch by inch, he immediately leaned in to check the survivors. “Stay with me,” he murmured, his voice low but firm. “We’re getting you out.”

  The moment the gap was large enough, medics pulled the first survivor free. A woman, blood staining her medical coat, gasped as fresh air hit her lungs. The second was a young nurse, barely responsive, but still alive.

  The third survivor, a doctor, was pinned deeper beneath the rubble. His pulse was weak. Theo cursed under his breath. “We need to move fast.”

  The wreckage shifted suddenly.

  “Get back!” someone yelled.

  Theo barely had time to react before Cassius yanked him backward, shielding him as debris rained down from above. Dust and stone pelted them, and for a moment, all sound was drowned out by the crash.

  Theo coughed, shaking off the debris, and turned sharply. “Cassius—are you hurt?”

  Cassius exhaled, gripping Theo’s arm. “I’m fine. You?”

  Theo nodded, breath still uneven. But there was no time to dwell on it. The last survivor was still trapped.

  With renewed urgency, Theo pressed forward, his heart hammering. He couldn’t afford to fail. Not now. Not when lives hung in the balance.

  The last survivor was finally pulled free from the wreckage. He was barely breathing, his body battered and broken, but Theo didn’t hesitate. He dropped to his knees beside him, pressing his fingers to the man’s neck—searching, hoping.

  Nothing.

  “No, no, no.” Theo’s voice was hoarse as he immediately started chest compressions. His hands, steady despite the exhaustion, pushed down with precision. “Come on. Breathe.”

  The world around him blurred. The sounds of sirens, shouts, and the crackling of unstable debris faded into nothing. There was only this. This moment.

  Theo pressed harder, counting under his breath. He tilted the man’s head back, forcing air into his lungs. Then back to compressions. Again. And again.

  Cassius stood frozen a few feet away, watching. He had seen Theo in many forms—calm, cold, strategic, infuriatingly untouchable—but never like this. Never desperate. Never breaking.

  Theo didn’t stop. Even as a medic placed a hand on his shoulder. “Dr.—”

  “Not yet,” Theo snapped, shaking them off. He kept going, pouring everything into each compression, as if sheer willpower alone could defy death. His arms ached. His breathing was ragged. But he didn’t stop.

  Cassius stepped closer.

  Theo’s rhythm faltered. His hands slowed, just slightly.

  The medic checked again, then exhaled a quiet, regretful sigh. “He’s gone.”

  Theo’s hands hovered over the man’s chest, fingers curling into fists. His breathing was sharp, unsteady.

  “No,” he muttered, shaking his head. “No, I—” He clenched his jaw, eyes locked onto the unmoving body beneath him.

  Cassius could see it—the exact moment Theo broke.

  His shoulders sagged, his entire body trembling with exhaustion and something deeper, something raw. His fingers twitched as if he wanted to try again, just one more time, but he didn’t.

  He couldn’t.

  Theo’s head bowed forward, his breath catching. Dust and blood streaked his face, but he didn’t wipe it away.

  Cassius didn’t think. He just moved. He crouched beside Theo, hesitating only for a moment before resting a hand on his back. A solid, grounding touch.

  Theo didn’t pull away. He stayed there, kneeling beside the body, silent and unmoving, as the weight of it all—of everything—finally came crashing down.

  Cassius didn’t say anything. He just stayed by Theo’s side as the medics and military doctors took over, their voices a distant hum against the chaos. Theo was still kneeling, his breathing uneven, his hands trembling.

  Cassius reached for him, gripping his arm firmly but not forcefully. “Come on,” he said, voice low but steady. “Let’s go.”

  For a moment, Theo didn’t move.

  Then, without resistance, he let Cassius pull him to his feet. He was unsteady, drained from exhaustion, from the weight of it all. Cassius didn’t let go. He kept an arm around Theo’s waist, guiding him away from the scene.

  The tent was quiet when they stepped inside. The distant sounds of rescue efforts still filled the air, but here, away from the wreckage, it felt different. Isolated. Almost fragile.

  Theo sat down heavily on the cot, elbows on his knees, head bowed. His fingers curled into his hair, gripping it tightly. He hadn’t said a word since they left.

  Cassius knelt in front of him, close but not crowding. He reached for a damp cloth from a nearby supply kit, carefully wiping away the dust and dried blood from Theo’s hands. The silence stretched, thick with something unspoken.

  “You did everything you could,” Cassius finally said.

  Theo exhaled, a shaky, uneven sound. He didn’t argue, but he didn’t accept it either. His hands twitched under Cassius’ touch, his body still tense.

  Cassius continued, his voice softer now. “I watched you, Theo. You didn’t stop. You didn’t give up. That’s all anyone can do.”

  Theo finally lifted his head, his eyes tired, dark with something heavy. He looked at Cassius like he wanted to say something—something real, something raw—but he hesitated.

  Cassius didn’t push. Instead, he reached up, fingers brushing gently against Theo’s face, wiping away a streak of dirt from his cheek. His touch lingered, not just to comfort, but to remind Theo he wasn’t alone.

  “I’m proud of you,” Cassius murmured. “You’re—” He paused, choosing his words carefully. “You’re the strongest person I know.”

  Theo let out a quiet breath, something in his expression shifting. The weight on his shoulders didn’t disappear, but for the first time that night, he let himself lean into Cassius—just a little.

  Theo’s eyes blinked open to the dim light of dawn filtering through the tent. His body ached from exhaustion, but the warmth beneath him was unfamiliar. It took him a moment to realize—he had fallen asleep in Cassius’ lap.

  Cassius was still there, his back against the cot, one arm resting over Theo’s shoulders. His head was tilted slightly, his features softened in sleep. The sight made something tighten in Theo’s chest.

  He watched Cassius for a moment, taking in the way his lashes rested against his skin, the slow rise and fall of his breath. It had been a long time since Theo had let himself be this close to someone—longer still since he had allowed himself to be held.

  Carefully, he sat up, making sure not to wake him. His movements were slow, deliberate. But just as he was about to stand, Cassius stirred, brow furrowing slightly before his eyes fluttered open.

  Theo froze, caught in the quiet intensity of Cassius’ gaze. There was no hesitation, no barriers between them in that moment—just an understanding that didn’t need words.

  Theo almost said something. Almost.

  Instead, he simply gave a small, grateful nod before standing. He didn’t look back as he left the tent, stepping into the cool morning air.

  Outside, the scene had shifted. The worst of the chaos was over. The disaster site, once a scene of pure devastation, now carried a different energy. Military personnel and volunteers moved with purpose, organizing supply distribution and final medical checks. The survivors were receiving proper care, many already prepared for transfer to nearby hospitals.

  Theo exhaled. They were close to finishing their mission here. A few more days, and the Harrington Humanitarian Foundation team would return home.

  And when that happened, he and Cassius would have to part ways again.

  ---

  As the relief camp prepared for departure, the weight of exhaustion hung heavy in the air, but so did gratitude. Volunteers and military personnel stopped to shake Theo’s hand, murmuring thanks for everything his foundation had done. He nodded, accepting their words, but his mind was elsewhere.

  Before he could board the transport back to Bellemont, there was one last thing he needed to do.

  Theo pushed open the flap to Cassius’ tent without hesitation. Cassius was already standing, as if he knew Theo would come. His expression was unreadable, but his eyes—those sharp, piercing eyes—held something deeper.

  “You’re leaving,” Cassius said, his voice steady.

  Theo exhaled. “I have to.”

  A flicker of something crossed Cassius’ face. Hurt. Resignation. He nodded slowly, stepping closer. “I know.”

  Silence stretched between them, heavy with all the things neither had said, all the things they weren’t supposed to say.

  Theo finally broke it. “Cass… this—” He gestured between them, voice tight. “This isn’t supposed to happen.”

  Cassius’ jaw clenched. “But it did.”

  Theo looked away. “You’re the heir of Hartwell. And I—” His voice faltered. “We need to hate each other.”

  Cassius let out a bitter laugh, but there was no humor in it. “Do you?”

  Theo swallowed hard. “It would be easier if I did.”

  Cassius stepped even closer, close enough that Theo could feel the warmth of him, smell the faint scent of him—one he had memorized in the quiet of the night before. “But you don’t,” Cassius murmured. “Do you?”

  Theo didn’t answer.

  He didn’t have to.

  Cassius sighed, his voice softer now. “I don’t either.”

  Theo felt something crack inside him. It was unfair, how much he wanted this, how much he wanted Cassius. But there was no space for this in their world, no space for something as fragile as them.

  “I wish things were different,” Theo admitted, his voice barely above a whisper.

  Cassius exhaled sharply, then reached for Theo’s wrist, squeezing it just once—firm, grounding, and impossibly tender. “Me too.”

  A voice called Theo’s name from outside—the final boarding.

  Theo hesitated for just a second, his grip tightening around Cassius’ hand before he let go.

  Then, without another word, he turned and left the tent.

  This time, he didn’t look back.