Chapter 49
“Oi, Rain! Wait!”
The voice cracked through the air like a whip; frantic, breathless, unmistakably Jay.
Rain halted so abruptly his boots scraped against the pavement. His heart lurched into his throat, a violent, disbelieving jump that left him momentarily weightless.
He turned.
Jay was fighting his way around an elderly couple entering the café, muttering rushed apologies as he squeezed past them.
“Sorry—excuse me—sorry—”
He stumbled out onto the footpath, chest rising and falling with uneven breaths.
“Oh, thank fuck,” Jay exhaled, relief flooding his features as he finally reached Rain.
Rain’s brow arched, amusement flickering despite the storm inside him.
He couldn’t fathom why Jay had followed him.
Why he’d chased him out of the café.
Why he looked like he’d sprinted through a battlefield just to catch him.
Confusion tangled with something far more dangerous; hope.
A small, traitorous spark that flared in his chest before he could smother it.
He forced his expression into neutrality, burying the chaos beneath a mask he’d worn his entire life. He would not let Jay see the yearning clawing at him from the inside.
Jay, having caught him, suddenly seemed to lose all momentum.
He stood there awkwardly, shoulders tense, biting his plump lower lip; the same nervous habit Rain had once found unbearably endearing. The words he’d chased Rain down to say now seemed trapped behind his teeth.
The sun blazed overhead, heat pooling on the pavement, making the moment feel even more suffocating. Jay’s gaze stayed locked on Rain, those frustratingly beautiful blue eyes swirling with emotion, with longing, with fear, with things he clearly didn’t know how to voice.
Rain’s patience thinned.
Not with Jay but with the silence.
He lowered his energetic shield, reaching out instinctively to read Jay’s intentions.
The moment he touched Jay’s energy, he staggered internally.
It was chaos.
A storm of longing, fear, regret, desire, confusion; all knitted together so tightly Rain couldn’t separate one emotion from the next. His own heart was too raw, too bruised, too hopeful to interpret anything clearly.
He was stranded between wanting to believe and knowing better.
He swallowed, forcing his voice steady.
“Did you want something?”
A simple question but Jay’s energy surged in response, a tidal wave of emotion that screamed You. I want you.
Rain’s breath hitched.
He stepped back instinctively, hands diving into his pockets to stop himself from reacting—from reaching—from giving himself away.
Jay flinched at the movement, misreading it as rejection. His expression soured, shoulders curling inward.
“I just came to tell you that you don’t have to leave because of me.”
Rain stared at him incredulously.
They both knew that wasn’t why he’d come out here.
“You chased me all the way out of the café just to tell me that?” Rain pressed, voice low, urging him to be honest.
Jay’s cheeks flushed pink.
He folded his arms across his chest defensively; retreating, shutting down, preparing to let Rain walk away again.
Rain groaned softly.
No.
Not this time.
He closed the distance between them in two long strides.
Jay tensed, stepping back until his spine hit the brick pillar between the shop windows. A tiny squeak escaped him; startled, breathy, vulnerable.
Rain was close enough to feel Jay’s breath brush his chin.
Close enough to smell the faint sweetness of coffee lingering on Jay’s lips.
Close enough to imagine; for one reckless heartbeat, what it would feel like to lean in and taste him.
He braced one hand against the wall beside Jay’s head, leaning in until his lips hovered near Jay’s ear.
“Speak your mind,” Rain whispered, voice dropping to a low, intimate rumble. “Tell me what you want me to hear.”
A shiver ran visibly through Jay’s body.
Rain felt it second-hand; a jolt of heat that shot straight through him, forcing him to clench his jaw and silently threaten the very obvious reaction forming beneath his waistband.
Jay’s breath stuttered.
“I–I…”
“You,” Rain murmured, eyes drinking him in, intoxicated by the connection he’d missed more than he’d ever admit. “What?”
Jay swallowed hard.
“I know you,” he whispered. “I wanted to…”
His emotions rioted—desire, fear, longing, restraint—all battling for dominance.
Rain’s voice softened, coaxing.
“You know I can feel when you’re withholding what you really want to say. So, save us both the insult and just speak your mind. What’s the worst that can happen?”
Jay’s energy spiked—sadness, fear, heartbreak—confusing Rain even further.
“Okay,” Jay breathed.
He cleared his throat, eyes flicking up to meet Rain’s.
“I don’t want to hurt you. I never meant to hurt you.”
Rain’s gaze softened despite himself.
“I followed you because I needed you to know that I know you. I know you have a good heart. You always put everyone before yourself. I know you expect people to think the worst of you, so it’s easy for you to pretend to be the bad guy.”
Rain’s chest tightened painfully.
“I want you to know that I know you’re not a bad guy. And it wasn’t your words that hurt me before. It was my own stupidity. Because I know… you know… that I still love you. And I can’t hide that from myself, let alone from you.”
Hope flared; blinding bright in his chest. For one suspended moment, Rain let himself feel it.
Then Jay continued.
“But I’m glad we agree that we’re better off as friends. If you still want to be my friend, that is.”
The hope shattered.
It didn’t fade.
It didn’t dim.
It broke; violently, completely, leaving Rain hollow.
He stepped back slowly, straightening, ignoring the crushing ache in his chest. Jay felt the shift instantly; the emptiness that filled the space between them, the cold air where warmth had been seconds before.
Both of them crossed their arms over their chests at the same time; a mirrored gesture of self-protection neither of them acknowledged.
“Of course,” Rain forced out, the words scraping up his throat like they’d been dragged over broken glass. His voice sounded steady; infuriatingly steady, even though inside he felt like he was splintering apart.
“I will always be here for you, Jay. That’s a promise I will never break. No matter how much chaos surrounds me or how many responsibilities I’m juggling, I will always make time for you.”
He swallowed hard, the ache in his chest tightening.
“You will always be my first love, after all.”
He tried to smile; a soft, wistful curve of his lips but the sadness in his eyes betrayed him. It was impossible to hide. Not from Jay. Not from himself.
A single tear slipped down Jay’s cheek.
Rain’s breath caught.
Before he could think, he reached out and brushed it away with the gentlest touch, the kind of touch that belonged to lovers, not exes, not friends, not whatever they were now.
The moment Rain’s fingers grazed his skin, Jay broke.
A sob tore out of him; raw, unrestrained, ripped straight from the centre of his chest. He slapped his hands over his face, ashamed, shoulders curling inward as if he could fold himself out of existence.
It was as though the entire week had been one long, desperate attempt to outrun the truth and now it had finally caught him.
Jay turned away, instinctively trying to flee the moment, flee the vulnerability, flee Rain.
But Rain couldn’t let him.
He stepped forward and pulled Jay into a firm, grounding embrace. Jay collapsed into him, his body shaking with grief, his fingers clutching at Rain’s shirt like he was afraid Rain might disappear if he let go.
Rain held him tighter.
Unbeknownst to him, his energetic shield activated; snapping into place like armour. It shut down his empathic ability entirely, protecting him from the tidal wave of Jay’s emotions. For the first time in his life, Rain could hold someone who was breaking without breaking with them.
It steadied him.
Anchored him.
Allowed him to be strong even as his own heart cracked open.
They stayed like that for a long time; long enough for Jay’s sobs to soften, long enough for his breathing to settle into a fragile rhythm. Jay didn’t pull away. If anything, he clung tighter, as though Rain was the only thing keeping him upright.
Rain didn’t move.
Didn’t speak.
Didn’t dare breathe too deeply.
He just held him.
Until Rain’s pocket vibrated.
Jay jerked back, startled.
“Are you… vibrating?”
Rain groaned and fished out the shiny golden rectangle; the Connekt the Duke had sourced for him.
He stared at it like it was a cursed relic.
“Ah shit,” he muttered. “Snow was supposed to show me how to use this.”
Jay’s lips twitched; the faintest smirk breaking through the remnants of his tears. Rain caught it and shot him a playful glare, relieved to see even a flicker of light return to Jay’s expression.
“I can figure it out,” Rain insisted, tapping the screen with far too much confidence.
The device immediately prompted a chip request.
Rain smirked triumphantly and tapped his pendant against the screen. It unlocked with a soft chime.
His triumph lasted exactly three seconds.
When he stared at the unfamiliar icons like they were hieroglyphics.
Jay’s amusement grew, his smirk widening as Rain’s confidence dissolved into confusion.
“Would you like any help?” Jay asked softly.
Rain hesitated; pride warring with practicality, then reluctantly held out the device.
Jay didn’t take it.
Instead, he stepped closer, leaning comfortably against Rain’s arm as he guided him.
“See here,” Jay said, tapping an envelope icon marked with a cursive M. “This is your message bank. You can access mail, direct messages, voice mail, group chats. This one is for voice calls. And this model can make holographic calls; which us common folk can only do from a wired receiver.”
Rain stared blankly at the screen.
Jay glanced up and burst out laughing.
Rain grimaced. “You lost me at direct messages.”
Jay shook his head, still smiling. “You have a voice message. I’m guessing whoever Henry is knows you don’t know how to use this and tried to make it easier for you.”