THE WEIGHT OF WANTING.
---
Volume 2, Chapter 73 – The Weight of Wanting.
Vincent didn't go back to his room.
Didn't move.
Didn't breathe.
Not for a long moment, anyway.
Zane was still standing there, watching him. Studying him in that way that made Vincent's skin prickle, like he was seeing through every wall Vincent had ever built.
And Vincent hated that.
Because Zane wasn't supposed to see this.
Wasn't supposed to know how much Vincent was struggling to keep himself together.
But he did.
Of course, he did.
Vincent exhaled sharply, dragging a hand through his hair. "You should go."
Zane's jaw tightened. "You don't mean that."
Vincent clenched his fists. "It doesn't matter."
"Yeah?" Zane's voice was quieter now. "Because it sounds like it does."
Vincent's chest tightened.
Because it did.
And that was the problem.
He swallowed hard, forcing himself to meet Zane's gaze. "You don't get it."
"Then make me get it," Zane said. "Because I'm right here, Vincent. And I'm not going anywhere."
Vincent let out a bitter laugh. "Maybe you should."
Zane didn't flinch. Didn't back away.
Just looked at him.
Steady. Unwavering.
Vincent hated that too.
Hated how Zane never made this easy.
Never let him run.
Never let him bury things deep enough to forget.
Vincent exhaled sharply, stepping back, putting space between them. "I don't do this, Zane."
Zane frowned. "Do what?"
"This." Vincent gestured vaguely, frustration curling tight in his chest. "Letting people in. Letting myself want something."
Zane's expression didn't change. "And yet, here you are."
Vincent inhaled sharply. "That's the problem."
Zane took a step forward. "No, Vincent. That's the truth."
Silence.
A heavy, suffocating silence.
Vincent clenched his jaw. "I don't know how to do this."
Zane's voice softened. "Then let me show you."
Vincent's breath hitched.
And that?
That was the moment he knew—
He was done running.
But knowing and accepting were two different things.
His throat felt tight, his pulse an unsteady rhythm beneath his skin. His instincts screamed at him to step back, to shut down, to push Zane away before it was too late.
But it was too late.
It had been too late for a long time.
Zane took another step forward, close enough that Vincent could feel his warmth. Could smell the faint traces of smoke and steel that clung to his skin.
Close enough that if Vincent reached out—if he let himself—he could touch him.
He clenched his fists. "Zane."
Zane's gaze flickered, something softer threading through his sharp edges. "What?"
Vincent swallowed hard. "This… this isn't a good idea."
Zane's lips quirked slightly, but there was no amusement in his eyes. "Maybe not."
Vincent exhaled shakily. "Then why—"
"Because I don't care if it's a bad idea, Vincent." Zane's voice was steady, certain. "I don't care if this is messy or complicated or if you still don't know what the hell to do with it. I just know that I want you. And I think you want me too."
Vincent's breath caught.
Because there it was.
The truth he had been avoiding.
The thing he had refused to admit to himself.
He did want Zane.
Had wanted him for a while now.
But wanting something meant risking something.
And Vincent wasn't sure he knew how to do that.
Zane didn't move. Didn't push. He just stood there, waiting.
Letting Vincent decide.
And somehow, that was worse.
Vincent's pulse pounded in his ears. His body ached with the weight of his own hesitation.
He could walk away.
Could pretend this moment never happened.
Could tell himself that nothing had changed.
But it had changed.
Everything had.
Vincent exhaled slowly. His hands weren't fists anymore. He didn't know when that had happened.
But he knew one thing.
He was tired.
Tired of pretending.
Tired of fighting himself.
Tired of pushing Zane away when all he really wanted was to pull him closer.
Vincent inhaled sharply.
And then—
He reached out.
A small movement. Just his fingers brushing against Zane's wrist.
Barely even a touch.
But it was enough.
Because Zane's breath hitched, and Vincent felt it.
Felt the way the air between them shifted.
Felt the way Zane stayed perfectly still, like he was afraid to break the moment.
Vincent swallowed hard. "Zane."
Zane's voice was quieter now. "Yeah?"
Vincent's fingers curled slightly, his skin tingling where it met Zane's.
And for the first time in a long time—
He didn't let go.
---