~Chapter 32~
He holds me tight for a few seconds, and I stay there, still, letting the moment pass just as it should.
It's quiet. The kind of quiet that doesn't press, it just..
. sits between us.
I feel his hand on my back, warm, steady.
He doesn't pull me towards him, he doesn't push me.
He just sits. And that's how I know it's okay.
.
When he comes off, he does it gently, so as not to break the atmosphere.
I look at him for a moment, and he just gives me a quick nod, "go. "
So I stand up.
We don't say anything. We don't have to.
I walk past him, and he touches my arm with just the tips of his fingers, in passing. Just enough to reassure me that he’s there, without tugging at me, without exaggeration.
I like that gesture. I always have. It’s simple. Familiar.
But not in that intimate way. Disgusting!
I head towards the room, feeling his gaze on me, but I don't turn around, I climb the stairs to my room.
I push the door open, enter, and close it slowly behind me.
The room is quiet, exactly as I left it. I sit on the bed, lean back, and take a deep breath, as if I'm only now able to breathe normally.
I rest my head on the pillow.
Body heavy.
Mind still agitated, but not chaotic.
And slowly, I calm down.
But it doesn't take long for me to remember that I have homework and projects to do, so I get out of bed with a dramatic sigh and sit down at my desk.
"Always in the last hundred meters?" Brex says
"Not always" I say and take out a sheet of paper to start writing in history.
---
For a second I just stare at the blank sheet of paper in front of me. It’s like it’s challenging me. It’s like it’s saying, “Come on, write me if you can.” And I… normally I’d ignore it, but I don’t feel like arguing with my teacher tomorrow.
I run my hand over my forehead, take a deep breath, and start writing the title:
“Political Reforms of the 19th Century.”
Wow.
Fascinating. Exactly what I wanted right now, when my body is still tired and my mind is too full.
“You have a really boring life sometimes, you know?” Brex comes to mind, his calm voice too quiet for how annoying he is.
“I just got out of a moment with Sergio, don’t start,” I mutter, writing the first line.
“It wasn’t a moment, it was just simple physical contact and a huge dose of repressed emotion.
”
“You know we’re not… like that, right?
” I ask irritably, blowing lightly on the paper to straighten the corner.
“He’s my brother, in the sense of… normal.
”
“Normal, normal, normal… I keep hearing that word and it still doesn’t define you even 1%.
”
"Stop! It is disgusting!"
I roll my eyes. I wish I could throw him out like an uninvited guest, but I can’t. He’s in my mind, like an overly intelligent parasite.
“You want to let me work?”
“I’m bored.
Come on, tell me something else.”
“What else?”
“Your sex life, for example.”
I get stuck. My pencil hangs above the paper, and the unfinished letters look like tired question marks.
?What?!”
"Yes. I'm curious.
You're already 19, your hormones are exploding, werewolf instincts are double that of humans.
.. it's mathematically impossible to be a lycan, or it's super rare"
“Brex, seriously…” I run my hand over my face, almost laughing nervously. “I’m not interested in discussing this with you.”
“So there is someone,” Brex says, but then I feel myself getting excited
“I didn’t say that!”
“You raised your voice. That means guilt.”
“That means you’re annoying!”
I take a deep breath, trying to focus on the next line:
"The reforms were intended to.
."
?Do you have fantasies?"
The pencil slips from my hand.
It sits on the table at a sad angle, as if it wants to ask me as much as Brex: "Yes?
Do you?"
"Yes! Yes Brex, I have fantasies" I whisper, but loud enough that I can hear my own irritation.
"Do it with everyone and then talk to me alone or more specifically with you and have them pull my hair!
" I say, mocking him
Brex is silent for a few seconds.
This is more suspicious than when he speaks.
"So you do."
"AHHHHH"
I bury my face in my arms, banging my forehead lightly on the desk.
“Why do you care?!”
“Because every aspect of your mind affects my evolution. I’m…
wired. If you have impulses, I feel them too.
If you have emotions, I process them too.
If you’re attracted to someone..”
“I’M NOT AT.
.”
I stop.
I don’t finish.
Silence falls between us.
Too honest.
Too vulnerable.
Too confused.
“Hm.” Brex sounds amused.
“I think I’ve found my favorite subject.
”
“If you say another word, I’ll throw myself out the window.
”
“You’re not going to die. We have excellent reflexes. ”
I swear through my teeth.
Then I take my pencil, sharpen it slowly as if it calms me, and continue writing:
"In Europe, political transformations... led to the emergence of... modern states..."
And all the while, Brex sits quietly in the background, but I can feel him.
Watching.
Analyzing.
Waiting for him to ask another completely inappropriate question.
“If you had a choice… would you prefer someone calm? Or someone impulsive?”
“SOMEONE GOOD IN BED, STOP!!”
And yet…
my mind remains agitated, not because I’m hiding something, but because Brex knows exactly how to get me out of my shell.
Even though we haven’t known each other for a few days… or weeks.
After racking my brain with political reforms and other crap, I take a breather.
"I appreciate you not saying anything more," I say softly, hoping that Brex is gone.
I get up from my chair and stretch a little.
My back is stiff after almost 2 hours of writing history and I'm still not done.
I remember my phone and go to bed to get it from the nightstand
Nothing interesting.
Just messages about fancy parties, new hotels and "I'm too rich to talk to you" vibes.
I've never understood why you have to make a big deal out of it.
I'm looking through it again and I just now see that I have a message from Emy
Emy:
"Sorry for my behavior.
I was...just stressed. You know how girls are"
I look at Emy’s message, lips pursed and a strange feeling in my throat.
“You know how girls are.”
I read it again.
Not because I care, but because… I don’t know, her sweet tone seems to catch my eye, as if she wants to make me seem like I’m the one being difficult.
“Yeah… sure,” I mutter, letting the phone slip from my hand onto the bed.
"You could answer him," Brex says quietly.
Too quiet.
The kind of quiet where I know he's up to something.
"I don't want to."
"Do you not want it because you are angry… or because you are not interested at all?"
“I don’t care at all.”
“So you admit it.”
I run my hand over my face. “I have nothing to admit. I just… don’t care.”
?Ah. You prefer boys..”
A sound escapes me between laughter and choking.: ?brEX”
“I’m kidding, calm down. I know it’s not that simple in your mind.”
“It’s calmer in my mind than in yours.”
“Assuming it’s true,” he says in a tone that instantly annoys me. “Why did you react like that?”
It feels like he's laughing. Not out loud. But I feel the vibration of his irony, like an electric current in the back of my head.
I lie back in bed, my phone beside me. The ceiling stares at me with the same indifference I look at my high school life, my homework, everything.
And yet... I can't help but feel like I'm being watched.
So I turn my head.
My bedroom door is ajar.
I don’t know if I left it that way.
“There’s no one,” Brex says immediately, as if he’s read my fear.
“Or maybe… you did it on purpose. So someone could get in.”
I roll my eyes.
“If you say Niko or Ash, you psycho cuddly thing, I swear..”
“No, no,” he laughs.
“I was thinking about Sergio.”
I pause for a moment, then: "Why did you bring up Sergio?
"
"Because you mentioned him three times in your mind today without realizing it. "
I wince a little.
Yeah, okay.
So that's what it feels like.
“So what if I mentioned it? It was there today. Of course I’m thinking.
”
“Mhmmm.” he says, drawn out, exaggerated.
I start scrolling through my phone just to have something to do.
“Are you looking for an escape?” he asks.
“No, I’m looking for peace.”
“You can’t find it on your phone.
”
“I can’t find it anywhere.”
I get out of bed and go to the window. I open it.
Cold air rushes into the room and blows through my hair.
It’s almost lunchtime but it’s quiet.
Way too quiet. It feels like he’s lurking.
“Are you nervous?”
“I’m…
tired.”
“You’ve had a lot on your mind today.
”
“You’re half of that ‘a lot on your mind’.
”
“Are you okay?”
“I’m…
? I think… yes.”
“You’re lying.
”
“Perfect, then we’re a good match. ”
I take a deep breath and let the air cool my throat.
And just then, I hear footsteps in the hallway.
Not heavy. Not hidden. Ordinary footsteps, like the walk of someone who knows exactly where to step so as not to make a noise.
I freeze.
This whole situation is already super weird.
Brex is silent.
And this is not good.
The door moves slightly, very slightly.
Then it opens another inch.
“It’s just Sergio,” Brex says only then, when I can already see him. “You can breathe.”
Sergio leans against the door frame, his arms crossed, his hair disheveled, his face tired.
“I heard you talking,” he says quietly.
“Is everything okay?”
I turn around, leaning against the window.
The sun behind him lights him up from one side, just enough for me to see his real expression.
Concern. That honest one. That… rare one.
“Yeah,” I say shortly. “I was just… talking to myself.”
“I noticed.” He raises an eyebrow.
“You were arguing with yourself.”
“It’s one of my crazy superpowers. ”
He smiles weakly. He steps into the room and closes the door behind him, kicking it shut so he doesn’t make a sound.
The gesture is so familiar it makes my stomach churn.
“Have you eaten?” he asks, approaching the desk.
“No. I was writing history.”
“And?”
“Yes.”
“You’re a mess when it comes to priorities. ”
I shrug. “I know.”
Sergio runs his hand through his hair.
He looks at me.
He looks at the desk.
At the bed.
At the window.
At my phone.
“Do you want to come down and eat something?” he asks, his voice low, gentle.
“I’m not hungry.”
“You are. You’re just stressed.
”
“From what?” I ask, even though I don’t want to.
“From everything that’s happened so far.
”
I sigh.
I roll down the window, close it, turn to him, and shake my head to the side like a stubborn child.
“Sergio… I’m fine. I swear.”
But he does exactly the thing that throws me off:
he approaches slowly.
Not threateningly.
Not directly.
But…
calmly. No rush.
And he puts a hand on my head, to turn my face towards him, to look me in the eye.
“You’re okay,” he repeats. “But not just you. Everything that’s happening right now.
”
I feel the air rushing out of me.
I can’t escape.
I don’t want to escape.
Not again
“Are you coming down with me?” His voice is low, warm, firm.
The one that always gives me the impression that he’s…
holding me.
“…yes.” I finally answer.
“Okay,” he says, letting go of my temple.
“Take off your hoodie, it’s a little chilly. ”
I go after him.
But before I leave, I take one more look around the room.
The room remains behind, as quiet as before.
Only now, inside me… it’s different.
At the whole situation that happened.
At the so-called ‘werewolves,’ at my new ‘friend’ who doesn’t know what high school is.
“Calm,” I murmur to myself.
“Impulsive,” Brex whispers.
“Shut up.”
I walk down the steps.
Behind me, I hear Sergio taking a deep breath.
Somehow…
it seems like he knows exactly what I’m thinking.
And that scares me.
But it also… calms me.
A strange kind of combination.
One that…
I don’t want to analyze right now.
---
The table was almost empty, just our plates, some cutlery and a bowl of salad in the middle considering that we have a table of 12 people.
The daylight is coming to an end and I can only now feel that winter is slowly coming, the fog that is outside is coming in through the kitchen window, making everything seem quieter than it really was.
Sergio was chewing slowly, without seeming rushed, but with his blue eyes fixing me from time to time.
“You know,” he begins, chewing a small square of bread, “sometimes I really wish I had another brother. I mean… one I could… I don’t know…
argue with about completely pointless things and beat him at board games without feeling guilty.
”
I try not to laugh, but his tone is too serious.
I look at him with raised eyebrows. “Really? Better a brother? Really?”
“Yeah! It means you always have someone to argue with… And who knows, maybe you’ll have someone to encourage you to eat the whole cake without looking at you with snake eyes.
”
“Sergio, you already have a brother. Me.” I say in a slightly irritated voice, as if it were obvious.
“And I don’t need another.”
He smiles, but in his own subtle way, almost like a child who knows he’s hit on a soft spot.
“Yes, yes, you’re my brother… but let’s be serious.
Sometimes it’s like having a conversation partner who knows how to annoy you to perfection.
Do you understand what I mean?”
“I see. So you want a second expert at giving me sarcastic lines?” I retort, and he nods with exaggerated seriousness.
“Exactly. And so that he can laugh at me without taking me too seriously.”
I glance at him, and I catch him smiling like it’s the biggest mystery in the world.
“Seriously, Sergio, you don’t need another brother.
You already have one who eats your cereal if you turn your back.
”
He laughs, lightly, chewing as he arranges his fork on his plate.
“That’s another matter. But it still doesn’t change the point.
It would be interesting to have another one…
”
I try to stop him with my eyes, but I know he’s not going to give up.
“So what would happen? Do you want to have competitions about who can tell the most bad jokes at the table? Fight over who gets to wash the dishes?”
“Maybe. Or let’s see who can eat the most pizza without drinking the water,” he says, as he lifts his plate slightly, making a theatrical gesture.
“Sergio, I don’t allow competitions where I intentionally lose.
” I reply, feigning seriousness, but the smile slips from my lips involuntarily.
He looks at me with a raised eyebrow.
“Let’s be serious. Does the idea really annoy you?
”
“Really? It’s not that it annoys me, it’s just that it’s just pointless.
We don’t need a third… and even if we did, it would be impossible for them to be better at sarcasm than me.
”
“You’re right. No one can beat your sarcasm to perfection,” he says, shrugging and smiling contentedly. “But I’ll still try.”
Silence falls between us for a few seconds, only the sound of cutlery and plates hitting the table filling the air.
It’s strange how easy it can be to sit with someone next to you and feel like everything is…
normal. Family. That invisible bond that keeps you safe.
“And yet,” I continue, as I take a glass of water, “I don’t know if you want another brother.
He might not be as patient with your bad jokes.
”
“Yeah, and he might say annoying things to you in front of everyone,” he says, pausing dramatically, “but hey… that’s the fun part, right?
”
“Seriously, I don’t think I need another brother,” I say, as I pick the last pieces of bread off my plate.
“I already have one who loves me, laughs when I mess up, and gives me lines I don’t expect.
”
“And that’s exactly why you need it, right?
” he says calmly, rising slightly from his chair, but without seeming to be in a hurry.
I nod, trying to show him I’ve won, but I know his smile already knows there’s no “real win” between us.
After a few moments of silence, I pick up the plate, take it to the sink, and put it in the wash.
Brex is no longer on my mind now, because the atmosphere at the table has been enough to bring my focus back.
“Okay,” I say, walking back to my room, “I need to finish my history project. And you need to do your homework.”
“Come on, I’m trying to be serious.
Just a little bit,” he replies, as I look over my shoulder and head up the stairs.
I climb the stairs and push open the door to my room.
I close it slowly behind me, to preserve the quiet I’ve built downstairs at the table.
I take a deep breath, take a deep breath, and sit down at my desk.
My history project awaits me, the blank pages my personal challenge.
Brex lingers in my mind for a bit longer, but it’s much calmer now.
I focus on the headlines, the subtitles, the ideas, and the political reforms, letting the jokes and brotherly chatter fade into the background.
And even though Sergio is still downstairs, I know that his presence, even from a distance, makes me feel less and less secure in everything I do.
I have two more lines left in the draft. Two lines, but they seem like a mile. I sit with my head resting on my palm, the pen spinning between my fingers, and the laptop screen casts a cold light across the entire desk. It’s already evening. Tiring, long… and too quiet.
I lean back in my chair and close my eyes for a second. Heavy. Bored. I just want to finish.
And that’s when I feel it.
Brex.
It never appears as a sound or an image…
it's more like someone is running their fingers along the line in the back of my mind, very lightly, to remind me I'm here.
And his voice appears. Calm, low, slightly ironic:
“You’re looking at two ten-minute sentences. Are you ever going to write them?”
I open my eyes slowly.
I smile involuntarily.
""If you weren't nagging me, maybe I would," I murmur to myself.
I can hear him laughing. It's a sound just for me, warm and dangerous.
"You bore me when you struggle.
"
"I'm bored myself," I reply immediately.
.. without filter, without thinking. It's only after I've said it that I realize how much truth has come out.
He's silent for a second.
"Cassian.
.. can I ask you something?"
I feel my shoulders tense, but not in a bad way.
More like... like when you know something you've been avoiding is coming.
"Ask"
"Since when have I been on your mind. .. what do you really feel?"
I stand still. I stare at the cursor blinking on the screen, just as if it's waiting for me too.
"I don't know..." I want to reply, but that word is a lie.
So I take a deep breath. "You're... making me.
.. agitated. Not in a bad way. You're just..
. making everything... more... intense."
He doesn't say anything for a while.
Then his voice becomes warmer:
"And what's bothering you now?
"
That hits me right in the face.
Because the answer comes out before I can control myself:
"That I don't know if you're just in my head.
.. or if you're more. And that I'm getting used to you too quickly.
"
His silence isn't cold. It's… felt.
Like he's actually processing.
"Cassian…
you don't have to be afraid of me."
"But maybe you should," I whisper to myself, in the same tired, honest tone that's escaped me all evening.
"Because if you're not imaginary… then I have no idea what you're doing here.
Or what you want from me."
Brex growls in my mind.
A small, quiet but protective sound
"If I wanted something from you, do you think I wouldn't tell you? " he says irritably
I swallow dryly.
"You always only talk when you feel like it.
I… never ask for anything."
"You could.
You're welcome."
A crooked smile escapes my lips.
"I don't know what to ask for."
"Then let me open you.
To ignite what once was, what I used to be.
.."
My forehead touches the edge of the desk.
Its warmth is dangerously soothing.
"Do whatever you want, Brex," I say, ".
..as long as it doesn't take me deeper into the abyss.
.." I whisper, and a tear rolls down my cheek.
"Okay."
And I feel him approaching in my mind, more clearly than any of the real people around me.
“Then…I think you need some time alone, Cassian.”
I nod even though I don't think he sees what I'm doing and tears continue to stream down my cheeks.
I feel exhausted and stop working on my history project, I start to get up from my chair but I'm interrupted when I hear the door open.
Sergio
He looks at me from the doorway with both hands on his chest. He slowly walks away from the door and walks over to my bed, sits down and looks at me.
I wait to see what he has to say.
"You know what, Cassian," he begins and I turn my chair towards him, "there are a lot of things I don't know," he says and looks around the room for a new point or something amazing but he doesn't find one.
"There are... a lot," I say and laugh softly
"Let's start with Brex.
Who the hell is this Brex?" He says offended and his eyebrows are furrowed
I laugh softly at the sight of his face and say
"Brex is the uninvited guest in my head, Sergio.
He's the one who told me about werewolves or as I call them massive wolves"
"Can he hear me?
Or can I hear him?" He looks at me suspiciously and says softly
"Mmm.
..I don't know that" I say and I look at him, we start laughing when we see how banal we are
Sergio’s laughter dies down first. He leans forward a little, resting his hands on his hips, and sighs.
“You know what’s weird?” he asks me suddenly, his voice lower.
I raise an eyebrow.
“That we… we’re going through things that we didn’t even have in those stupid movies we saw in high school.
” He looks at me and smiles, but he’s not entirely joking.
“Remember when Emy got mad because I skipped Spanish class just to eat pretzels?”
Rad cu capul dat pe spate.
"Yeah... and he chased us all over the hall.
He said if we kept running away from our responsibilities, we'd end up famously unemployed.
"
“Which, honestly,” Sergio says, shrugging, “sounds better than having voices in our heads.”
I punch him lightly in the knee, and he grimaces theatrically.
“You could do it, at least. You have that silly charm of yours,” I say jokingly.
“That silly charm kept me alive… and it always annoyed you.” He smiles out of the corner of his mouth.
“Especially when Emy was scolding us. She’s more of a wolf than us,” I say
I nod.
"Emy… she was the only one who put up with us in middle school and now in high school"
"Yeah, and now she's the only one who knows when you're lying.
" Sergio leans in, looks at me more closely, narrows his eyes. "And… I think you're lying a little bit now too."
I swallow hard.
"About what?"
“About how you are.” He rests his hands on his knees, as if he doesn’t want to scare me. “You look at me like I’m here, but at the same time… you’re somewhere else. I don’t know where.”
I look up at the ceiling for a second, trying to catch my breath.
“I’m not somewhere else… just… tired.”
“Cassian.” He says my name slowly, with his rare seriousness. “You were crying when I came in. You don’t cry… not even when you have a real reason.”
I smile crookedly.
“Maybe… I have a reason now.”
Sergio runs a hand through his hair, frustrated.
“If it’s because of Brex… just tell me.
I can’t read your mind like he can, but you can tell me.
”
I look at him. His eyes are warm. Human.
Pure reality.
“It’s not just because of Brex…
it’s because of everyone. High school was simple.
Life was simple. Emy and Theo were simple and I loved being around them.
We were both stupid, but… well. Now…”
“Now you have a telepathic wolf in your head,” he adds, raising an eyebrow.
I laugh, involuntarily.
“And you still treat me like the same Cassian.”
“Because you are.”
He stands up abruptly, walks over to me, and puts a hand on my shoulder.
It’s warm, heavy, real.
“And if I ever hear Brex make you cry again,” he says seriously, “I swear I’ll go and beat him up…
even if it’s just in your head.”
A small laugh escapes me.
“How are you going to do that?”
“I don’t know,” he shrugs. “But I’ll improvise.”
He sits back down on the bed, taking a deep breath.
“Now… tell me everything. What exactly is bothering you? And don’t tell me it’s ‘nothing.’ I don’t feel like pretending to believe you.
”
I look at him in the silence of the room.
The light is dim. My tears have dried.
And now I really feel like I have to say something… even if I don’t know where it’s going.