Chapter 26: The Trembling Hands

The air in the nurse's office felt thick with unspoken tension, the odd sense of familiarity still lingering between Dorian and Lyrian. But the moment seemed to snap when Lyrian, his eyes still wide, hurriedly gestured for Dorian to sit down on the examination bed.

"Please, sit," Lyrian said, his voice calm but laced with an underlying tremor. His hands hovered near Dorian, as if he wasn't sure whether to guide him by the shoulders or simply step back and give him space.

Dorian moved to the bed, still feeling slightly disoriented from both the concussion and the odd connection he couldn't shake. His head throbbed, but the deeper ache was the confusion swirling in his chest. Who was this man, and why did he feel like he had seen him before?

The nurse grabbed a towel and some gauze from the counter, moving toward Dorian with quick, efficient steps, though the tremor in his hands didn't go unnoticed. As Lyrian pressed the towel gently against Dorian's nose, wiping away the blood, his hands shook slightly, the tremor betraying the calm mask he was trying to wear.

Rhys, standing off to the side, leaned against the wall with his arms crossed, watching the scene unfold with a mix of confusion and amusement. It wasn't often that the usually composed Dorian looked so off-kilter, and it was even rarer to see an adult—especially a professional—acting like this around him.

"I'm not sure who needs more attention right now," Rhys muttered under his breath, a playful grin tugging at his lips. "You or the nurse."

Dorian, who had been focusing on the strange tension between him and Lyrian, shot Rhys a glare, though the effect was diminished by the fact that he had a wad of gauze stuffed under his nose.

Lyrian, overhearing Rhys's comment, seemed to snap out of his daze slightly. He cleared his throat, his hands stilling for a moment as he continued to work on stopping the bleeding. "I'm... sorry," Lyrian murmured, though it was unclear if the apology was directed at Dorian or at his own lack of composure. "It's just... you should be okay. You have a mild concussion and some swelling, but nothing too serious."

Dorian nodded, though his mind was still spinning, not just from the injury but from the lingering sensation that something was off. As Lyrian continued his work, Dorian couldn't help but steal glances at him, trying to piece together why this man felt so familiar. His scent, his face, even the sound of his voice—it all tugged at something deep inside of him, something he couldn't quite place.

But no matter how hard he tried to connect the dots, the answers remained elusive.

"Do you... feel better?" Lyrian asked softly as he stepped back, his eyes scanning Dorian's face for any sign of discomfort. The tremor in his hands had mostly subsided, though a faint trace of it remained.

Dorian nodded, though his gaze lingered on Lyrian for a moment longer than necessary. "Yeah... better," He replied quietly, though the confusion still gnawed at the back of his mind. "Thanks."

Rhys, sensing the strange tension that still filled the room, decided to lighten the mood. "You gave us a good scare there," He said, grinning as he pushed off from the wall and moved closer to Dorian. "Though I think the nurse might've been more shaken than you."

Lyrian glanced briefly at Rhys, his lips twitching into a forced smile. "It's just... part of the job," He said, though his voice lacked the usual professional detachment. He stepped back from Dorian, his fingers smoothing out the front of his uniform as if trying to compose himself.

Rhys arched an eyebrow, clearly picking up on the odd vibe but choosing not to press the matter. Instead, he shot Dorian a playful look. "You'll survive, then?"

Dorian rolled his eyes, though there was a faint smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "Yeah, I'll survive."

Rhys, satisfied with Dorian's response, gave a playful salute. "Good. Can't have you collapsing on me halfway through the day, can we?"

Despite the lighthearted banter, Lyrian was still hovering nearby, his eyes darting between Dorian and Rhys, as if something about their dynamic intrigued him. He took a deep breath, visibly trying to settle himself, but his gaze kept returning to Dorian, as though he was trying to memorize every detail of his face.

For a brief moment, the room was quiet again, the silence filled only by the faint sound of the ticking clock on the wall. Dorian, still feeling that strange pull, found himself wanting to ask Lyrian something—anything—to break the tension, but he couldn't find the right words. The connection between them was unsettling, too familiar to ignore, but too confusing to address.

Finally, Lyrian cleared his throat and stepped back further, wiping his hands on a towel. "You should be good to go after a bit of rest," He said, his voice steadier now, though the slight tremor still remained. "Just take it easy for the rest of the day, and if you feel dizzy or unwell, come back to see me."

Rhys grinned, nudging Dorian with his elbow. "Looks like you're off the hook for the rest of gym class."

Dorian nodded, though his mind was still elsewhere, the confusion swirling like an undercurrent he couldn't escape. He shot a quick glance at Lyrian, whose eyes lingered on him once more before he quickly turned away to organize some supplies on the counter.

"Thanks," Dorian mumbled, standing up slowly from the examination bed, his legs steady but his mind far from it.

As Dorian and Rhys turned to leave the office, Rhys offered one last casual wave. "See you around, Nurse," He called out, clearly oblivious to the deeper tension in the room.

But as Dorian stepped toward the door, he hesitated, his hand resting on the handle as his gaze flicked back to Lyrian. The nurse was busying himself with something, his back turned to them now, but there was a heaviness in his posture—a kind of sadness that weighed down his movements.

For a split second, Dorian considered asking him about it, about the strange connection he couldn't shake. But before he could open his mouth, Rhys tugged him gently by the arm, urging him toward the hallway.

"You okay?" Rhys asked, his voice softer now as they stepped into the corridor, the door closing quietly behind them.

Dorian nodded, though his thoughts were far from settled. "Yeah," He said quietly, though his gaze remained fixed on the closed door of the nurse's office. "Just... thinking."

Rhys quirked an eyebrow, clearly picking up on Dorian's distracted mood but choosing not to press the issue. "You sure? You've been acting kind of weird since we got here."

Dorian shook his head, forcing a small smile as he shoved his hands into his pockets. "I'm fine," He insisted, though the lie tasted bitter on his tongue. "Let's just get back."

But even as they walked down the hallway, the feeling of Lyrian's gaze—familiar, searching, and filled with something that Dorian couldn't name—stayed with him, gnawing at the edges of his mind.

He didn't know what it was about the man, but something told him that this wasn't the last time their paths would cross.

_

The hallway leading back to the gym was quiet, their footsteps echoing softly against the tiled floor. Dorian walked beside Rhys, the silence between them comfortable—familiar, even. There was no need to fill the space with words; just having Rhys close by felt enough. For a moment, Dorian could almost forget the lingering tension from earlier—the strange encounter with Lyrian, the weight of unspoken questions pressing down on him.

But, of course, Rhys had never been one for long silences.

"Hey," Rhys said casually, glancing over at Dorian as they walked. "You ever notice that you've got the same hair color as the nurse?"

The comment was thrown out so casually that Dorian almost didn't register it at first. He blinked, glancing over at Rhys with a faint frown. "What?"

"Your hair," Rhys repeated, still not really giving the thought much weight. "It's the same color as his. Kind of that pale blond—almost white, you know?"

Dorian's steps slowed for a fraction of a second, the comment hitting a little too close to the strange familiarity he had felt with Lyrian. But he quickly brushed it off, shaking his head as if it were nothing.

"Huh. I didn't notice," Dorian lied, his voice carefully neutral. "I guess it's just a coincidence."

Rhys shrugged, not thinking much of it. "Yeah, probably. Just thought it was kind of interesting, that's all."

They continued walking in silence for a moment longer, but Dorian's mind was now spinning with thoughts of the nurse—Lyrian—and that strange pull he had felt earlier. He couldn't shake the feeling that there was more to the story, but for now, he pushed it to the back of his mind. He had enough to worry about without adding more layers to the mystery.

But then, just as the silence threatened to settle in again, Rhys's face lit up with a sudden idea.

"Hey," He said, a grin spreading across his lips. "Wanna ditch the gym for a bit?"

Dorian arched an eyebrow, the sudden shift in Rhys's energy pulling him out of his thoughts. "What are you talking about? We've got class."

Rhys waved a hand dismissively, already veering off course. "Come on. Just for a little while. I've got a better idea."

Before Dorian could argue, Rhys grabbed his wrist and tugged him down a different hallway, his steps quick and purposeful. Dorian didn't resist, more curious than anything, though he couldn't help the slight exasperation that crept into his voice.

"Where are we going?"

"You'll see," Rhys replied cryptically, his grin widening as they rounded a corner and headed toward the stairwell that led to the rooftop. Dorian realized where they were going just as Rhys pushed open the door to the stairwell, leading them up the steps two at a time.

When they finally reached the rooftop, the fresh air hit them in a cool, refreshing gust. The sky stretched out above them, a mix of bright blue and wisps of clouds that seemed to drift lazily by. Rhys let go of Dorian's wrist and strode out to the edge of the roof, leaning against the low wall as he breathed in the crisp air.

"Much better, right?" Rhys said, his voice light and free.

Dorian followed him, standing beside him at the edge and looking out over the school grounds below. There was something about the open air, the feeling of space and distance, that made everything feel lighter. For a moment, all the pressures of being the Vaelis heir, the strange encounter with Lyrian, and the expectations that constantly weighed on his shoulders seemed to drift away with the breeze.

They stood in comfortable silence for a while, the wind ruffling their hair as they looked out over the horizon. But then, as Dorian let himself relax, his thoughts wandered back to the conversation he had had with Alex the night before.

Alex's advice echoed in his mind—about taking a chance, about showing Rhys that he was interested without overthinking everything. And now, standing here on the rooftop, just the two of them, Dorian felt the weight of those words settle over him like a challenge.

He glanced over at Rhys, who was still leaning against the wall with that easy, carefree smile on his face, completely unaware of the inner turmoil brewing inside Dorian.

Should he do it? Should he try to take the leap that Alex had suggested? The thought made his heart race, and for a moment, he wasn't sure if he could even move. The fear of rejection, the fear of losing the strange but beautiful connection they had—it was all too much.

But then, Rhys turned to him, his gaze curious as he caught the expression on Dorian's face.

"Hmm, what's with that look?" Rhys asked, tilting his head slightly. "You've been quiet. Something on your mind?"

Dorian swallowed hard, his mouth suddenly dry. Now or never, he thought.

"I... was just thinking," Dorian began, his voice a little shaky. "About... us."

Rhys raised an eyebrow, his curiosity piqued. "Us?"

Dorian's heart hammered in his chest, but he forced himself to meet Rhys's gaze, the words spilling out before he could stop them.

"Yeah. I mean... I've been thinking about you. A lot."

Dorian stood there, words stuck in his throat, his mind racing as he tried to figure out how to say what he wanted. His heart pounded, the air between them feeling heavy with anticipation. But every time he opened his mouth, the right words failed him, leaving him frustrated and flustered. He had never been the type to stumble over his words—he was the perfect Alpha, always in control, always composed. But here, now, in front of Rhys, all of that seemed to fall apart.

And Rhys? He was enjoying every second of it.

The Omega stood there, watching him with a gleam of amusement in his eyes, clearly entertained by the sight of Dorian Vaelis, the head of the student council, tripping over his own words.

"You're really struggling here, aren't you?" Rhys teased, a small laugh escaping his lips. He stepped closer, his presence so sudden and subtle that Dorian didn't even notice at first.

Dorian swallowed hard, telling himself to get it together. 'You've got this,' He thought. 'Just say it. It's not that hard.'

But the harder he tried to find the right words, the more ridiculous he felt. His thoughts tangled in his mind, his confidence slipping with every second. Rhys, however, seemed completely at ease, his gaze never wavering as he watched Dorian struggle.

And then, in an instant, Dorian felt it—Rhys's hand gently cupping his cheek, the warmth of his touch sending a jolt through his entire body. Another hand rested lightly on the back of Dorian's neck, and the touch, so soft and intimate, made his breath catch in his throat.

His eyes widened in surprise, his heart skipping a beat as he realized just how close Rhys was. He looked down to find Rhys standing right in front of him, his mischievous smile still in place, but now there was something softer, something more tender in his gaze.

Rhys tilted his head slightly, his fingers lightly tracing the line of Dorian's jaw as he spoke. "You don't have to say it, you know," He murmured, his voice low and teasing. "I already know."

Dorian was speechless, his mind reeling from the sudden shift in the atmosphere. His throat felt tight, his skin warm beneath Rhys's touch. He wanted to say something—anything—but all he could do was stare down at the Omega, his heart pounding in his chest.

A smirk tugged at the corner of Rhys's lips as he watched Dorian's reaction, clearly satisfied with the way the ever-perfect Alpha had been reduced to a flustered mess. "You're not very good at this, are you?" Rhys teased, his tone light but filled with amusement. "For someone who's always so put together, you're really falling apart here."

Dorian's face flushed a deep shade of red, embarrassment flooding through him. He wanted to protest, to defend himself, but the words still wouldn't come. Rhys's proximity, the warmth of his hands, the intensity of his gaze—it was all too much.

But Rhys, ever playful, wasn't done yet.

He let out a soft hum of contemplation as he toyed with a strand of Dorian's hair, twirling it between his fingers. His gaze flickered with amusement as he thought for a moment, clearly enjoying the effect he was having on Dorian.

Then, with a mischievous glint in his eyes, Rhys leaned in just a little closer, his voice dropping to a soft murmur. "You want me to be yours, right?"

Dorian felt his breath hitch, his pulse racing as he nodded slightly, his eyes locked on Rhys's. He didn't trust himself to speak just yet, afraid he might embarrass himself even more.

A grin spread across Rhys's face, full of mischief and something else—something softer, something that made Dorian's heart ache in ways he didn't quite understand.

"Well," Rhys said, his fingers gently brushing the back of Dorian's neck, sending shivers down his spine. "If you want me, you're going to have to prove it."

Dorian blinked, confused for a moment. "Prove it?" He echoed, his voice finally finding its way back to him.

Rhys nodded, his smile widening as he leaned in closer, his breath warm against Dorian's skin. "You're the Alpha here, aren't you? It's tradition for the Alpha to chase the Omega, right?" His tone was teasing, but there was a flicker of challenge in his eyes—something that made Dorian's stomach twist with anticipation.

For a moment, Dorian was at a loss, his mind trying to catch up with what Rhys was suggesting. A chase? Was Rhys really asking him to...

"I'll tell you what," Rhys continued, stepping back just slightly, though his hand still lingered on Dorian's cheek. "If you're serious about this—about us—then you'll have to chase me. Show me you mean it."

Dorian's heart raced at the words, the weight of the challenge settling over him. He stared down at Rhys, his mind whirling with a mix of excitement, nerves, and determination.

"I'll make it worth your while," Rhys added with a wink, his playful grin returning full force. "But you'll have to catch me first."

Dorian swallowed hard, the heat still lingering in his cheeks, but this time, he felt something shift inside him—a spark of confidence, a surge of resolve. If this was what Rhys wanted, then he would give it everything he had.

"I'll catch you," Dorian said softly, his voice filled with quiet determination.

"You can count on that."

_

Hello, dear readers! 🌸

Thank you so much for your support and for clicking on this work to read. 😊 I wanted to let you know that I'll be putting this book on hold for now due to my busy schedule, along with working on some other writing projects. But don't worry—I'm absolutely planning to finish this story! There's actually a good chance I'll be rewriting parts to give it a more mature, polished style.

Thank you so much for your patience and understanding, and I promise I'll be back! ❤️ Just hang tight with me a little longer. 🥺