Chapter 10
— Varek's POV —
He was quiet today.
Different.
Not the kind of quiet that meant tired or distracted. It was the kind of quiet that screamed inside your bones — like something inside him had cracked and he was trying to patch it up before anyone noticed.
But I noticed.
I always notice.
He left my room without another word after our little talk. His shoulders were too stiff, his steps too fast — like he needed distance to breathe again.
As if space would help.
As if I wasn't already inside every thought in his head.
I waited.
I sat by the window and watched the courtyard, watched the wind move through the trees like it meant something. I didn't blink.
He met Zade. Right outside his office.
I saw the way Zade touched his arm. Too familiar.
Nolan lied about last night. Said he was tired. Said nothing happened.
But I knew better.
He didn't tell him about me.
He still didn't tell anyone.
Maybe he couldn't.
Maybe he didn't trust them.
Maybe some part of him knew they wouldn't help — not against someone like me.
He tried, once, didn't he? Reported the stalking, the watching. And they laughed it off. Dismissed him.
That must've hurt.
It's okay. I never really needed them to believe him. I only ever needed him.
Later, I heard from the staff — he'd tried to get reassigned.
Tried to end our sessions.
That stung.
After everything, he still wanted to run.
I wouldn't let him.
They told him I refused anyone else.
Which is true.
No one else touches me.
No one else knows me.
Only him.
Only Nolan.
And now he's trapped — forced to sit across from me, again and again, while everything in him screams to leave.
But he won't.
Because he can't.
And soon… he won't even want to.
Not when I show him what we used to be.
Not when I make him remember.
---
— Nolan's POV —
Every time I closed my eyes, I saw him. That look in his eyes. The way he whispered in the dark like he knew me.
But he didn't.
He couldn't.
No matter what he said — about the flower, about the past — I was sure of one thing: I've never met him before.
He's lying.
He's obsessed.
A stalker who built a fantasy around me and now won't let go.
And I'm the one stuck treating him.
I tried to get out of it — told the board I wasn't comfortable, that it was affecting me. But they said I was the only one he allowed near him. That he trusted only me.
Trusted.
What a joke.
I wanted to scream. To tear the damn walls down. How do you explain that your patient followed you for years, tracked you, threatened you — and no one will listen?
I'm trapped.
I have to sit across from him like everything's normal. Like I'm not being pulled deeper into something I don't understand.
He wants me to remember.
But I have nothing to give him.
Because there's nothing there.
Just a face I never should've seen again.
---
— Varek's POV —
He came.
After everything, after the fear I left in his bones, after the blood and silence and trembling glances—
He still came.
To see me.
To sit across from me.
To talk to me.
Not as Nolan Vale.
Not as the boy I've watched from a distance for years.
But as my therapist.
A title he didn't want.
A role he couldn't escape.
I waited for him, sitting still in the chair — calm on the outside, but everything inside me coiled and burning.
Would he speak first?
Would he pretend nothing happened?
Would he dare to act like he wasn't still shaking?
Then the door opened.
And there he was.
Clipboard in hand. Eyes tired. Breath short. Trying so hard to look professional, but the cracks showed.
He looked worse than yesterday.
Dark circles. Tension in his shoulders. The way he avoided my gaze like it would shatter something.
He sat down. Crossed his arms. And didn't say anything for a long moment.
But I could see it.
He was unraveling.
And I was the reason.
I leaned back, watching him sit across from me, arms folded tightly like he could physically hold himself together.