A PROMISE WITHOUT WORDS.

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Volume 2, Chapter 80 – A Promise Without Words.

Vincent wasn't sure how long they stayed like that.

Close.

Quiet.

Breathing the same air, existing in the same fragile moment.

Zane hadn't pulled away. Hadn't rushed him. Hadn't asked for anything more than what Vincent was willing to give.

And somehow, that made it even harder to breathe.

Because it wasn't pressure. It wasn't expectation.

It was just… Zane.

Steady. Patient. Unshaken.

Vincent swallowed hard, trying to process the warmth still lingering on his lips, the quiet hum of something unfamiliar settling beneath his skin.

Zane watched him, eyes dark, unreadable.

Then, softly—

"You okay?"

Vincent's throat tightened.

Because he didn't know how to answer that.

Because okay wasn't the right word.

He felt off-balance. Exposed. Like something inside him had shifted, and he wasn't sure how to put it back in place.

But for the first time, he didn't want to put it back in place.

So he forced himself to nod.

Zane studied him for a long moment, like he could see every thought running through Vincent's head.

Then—without a word—he reached for Vincent's hand.

Slow. Careful. Giving Vincent time to pull away.

Vincent didn't.

Zane's fingers laced through his, their hands resting between them, neither holding too tight, neither letting go.

Vincent exhaled shakily. "This is terrifying."

Zane huffed a quiet laugh. "Yeah. It is."

Vincent glanced at him. "Then why do you look so calm?"

Zane's lips quirked. "Because I know you're not going anywhere."

Vincent's chest ached.

Because fuck.

That was a dangerous amount of faith to put in someone like him.

Someone who had spent his whole life leaving before he could be left.

But Zane didn't doubt him.

Didn't expect him to run.

And that? That was almost scarier than anything else.

Vincent licked his lips, his voice rough when he finally spoke. "I don't know how to do this."

"I know," Zane murmured. "But you're still here."

Vincent swallowed hard.

Because yeah.

He was.

Despite everything. Despite the fear, despite the instincts screaming at him to shut down, despite every single reason he had to walk away.

He was still here.

And that?

That was everything.

Zane squeezed his hand gently. "We don't have to figure everything out right now. We can take it slow."

Vincent nodded.

Because slow?

Slow, he could do.

Maybe.

Zane studied him for a moment longer, then smirked slightly. "But just so we're clear—I am going to kiss you again."

Vincent's breath hitched. "You're awfully sure of yourself."

Zane grinned. "Because I know you're going to let me."

Vincent scowled, but his fingers curled just a little tighter around Zane's.

Zane didn't comment on it. Didn't push.

Just smiled.

Like he knew.

And Vincent?

He let him.

Because for once in his life—

He wasn't afraid of being seen.

He wasn't afraid of being wanted.

He wasn't afraid of staying.

The silence stretched between them, but this time, it wasn't heavy. Wasn't suffocating.

It was warm. Settled.

Zane ran his thumb over Vincent's knuckles, slow and absentminded. Like touching him wasn't something he had to think about—like it was something natural.

Vincent inhaled sharply.

Because fuck.

It felt good.

Too good.

Zane tilted his head slightly. "What's going on in that head of yours?"

Vincent hesitated.

Then—

"I don't know how to want something without expecting to lose it."

It wasn't what he meant to say.

But maybe… maybe it was the truth.

Zane's fingers curled slightly around his, grounding him. "Then we'll take it one day at a time."

Vincent exhaled. "And if I fuck it up?"

Zane's lips twitched. "Then we figure it out."

Vincent's pulse stuttered.

Zane was making it sound so simple.

Like this wasn't a risk. Like Vincent wasn't a risk.

And maybe that was what scared him the most.

Because Vincent had spent his entire life expecting people to leave.

Expecting the things he cared about to slip through his fingers.

But Zane?

Zane was still here.

And Vincent?

Vincent was finally letting himself believe that maybe—just maybe—he deserved that.

Zane squeezed his hand one last time, then pulled back, giving Vincent space.

"We should get some rest," he murmured. "It's been a long night."

Vincent nodded absently, but when Zane moved to step away—

His fingers tightened around Zane's.

Zane stilled.

Didn't pull away.

Didn't say anything.

Just waited.

Vincent's breath was shaky, his body a mess of tension and uncertainty.

But for the first time, he wasn't afraid of that.

For the first time, he wasn't afraid of this.

"Stay," Vincent said quietly.

Zane's lips parted slightly, something flickering behind his eyes. "Are you sure?"

Vincent exhaled.

Was he?

Would he ever be?

Maybe not.

But for once, he wasn't letting the fear decide for him.

He met Zane's gaze, voice rough but steady.

"Yeah. I'm sure."

Zane's expression softened.

Then, without a word, he reached for Vincent's hand again—

And this time?

Vincent didn't let go.

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End of volume 2.