Chapter Fifteen
Ellis hadn’t realized how quiet his apartment had become until Issaky knocked.
Three firm raps followed by the soft scrape of knuckles against wood, like Issaky was grounding himself before trying again.
Ellis sat on the edge of his bed, fully dressed for the first time in days.
That alone felt like a victory. His chest tightened anyway, reflexive panic flaring at the idea of being seen—really seen—after a week and a half of disappearing into himself.
It had only been two days since Isskay came by to visit and Ellis knew it was time to pull himself out of whatever hell this was he was living in.
“Okay,” he whispered, even though Issaky couldn’t hear him. “Okay.”
When Ellis opened the door, Issaky didn’t say anything right away. He just looked at him. The other man looked handsome as ever. His locs were pulled back and he was wearing a well fitting hoodie, accentuating all of the sharp edges of his face and body.
Ellis braced for concern, for the careful scanning of his face, the questions Issaky usually asked with his eyes before his mouth caught up. Instead, Issaky’s expression softened into something like relief, raw and immediate.
“There you are,” Issaky said quietly.
Something in Ellis loosened. Just a fraction. Enough that he didn’t immediately step back. Issaky stepped forward instead, slow and deliberate, giving Ellis time to retreat if he needed to. When Ellis didn’t, Issaky reached out and cupped the back of his neck, thumb resting just below his hairline.
“You don’t have to be okay,” Issaky said. “But you do have to come outside with me.”
Ellis huffed a weak, humorless laugh. “Bossy.”
Issaky’s mouth tilted. “But not wrong.”
Ellis didn’t argue. He leaned into Issaky’s touch instead, forehead tipping forward until it rested against Issaky’s chest. Issaky wrapped both arms around him then, solid and warm, holding him like he was afraid Ellis might disappear if he squeezed too hard.
Ellis inhaled the woodsy musk of Issaky and smiled for the first time in what felt like forever.
After a moment, Issaky pressed a kiss into Ellis's hair. “Shoes,” Issaky said gently. “Jacket. We’re going for ice cream.”
Ellis pulled back, blinking. “Ice cream?”
“GiGi’s downtown,” Issaky said, pulling away slightly. “You don’t have to talk. You don’t even have to taste it if you don’t want to. But you’re leaving this apartment.”
Ellis swallowed hard, suddenly nervous. Leaving felt enormous. Like stepping off a ledge he’d been clinging to with numb fingers.
Issaky noticed the hesitation immediately. “I’ll drive,” he added. “I’ll hold the door. I’ll do the ordering if you want. All you have to do is sit there and exist.”
Ellis exhaled shakily. “Okay,” he said.
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Downtown Seattle felt louder than Ellis remembered.
Or maybe he was just more aware of it now—the hum of traffic, the distant shriek of the light rail, voices overlapping in a way that made his skin buzz.
After being alone for so long, locked up in his room, the noises almost sounded ten fold.
There was no way they were actually that loud, right?
Issaky kept close, not touching but present, like a steady line Ellis could orient himself against. GiGi’s glowed warm and inviting, all pastel signage and fogged windows from the freezers inside.
The smell hit Ellis as soon as they opened the door—sugar and vanilla and waffle cones. Something old and comforting stirred in his chest, a memory of being small enough that ice cream meant safety.
Issaky ordered for both of them without making a big deal of it.
mint chip for himself and vanilla for Ellis, because of course Issaky had remembered.
Ellis couldn't help but smile when he saw Issaky holding his bright green ice cream.
He immediately thought of their first date–if that's what you could even call it–when Issaky had told him that he found comfort in mint chip ice cream.
Ellis had thought it was silly then, but now, looking at the beautiful man, it just made sense.
Issaky brought both ice creams over and they sat at a small table by the window. Ellis stared at his cup for a long moment before lifting the spoon. The first bite surprised him. He hadn’t realized how hungry he was—not just for food, but for something sweet and uncomplicated.
Issaky watched him carefully. “Good?”
Ellis nodded. “Yeah. Really good.”
Issaky smiled and went back to licking his cone. They ate in companionable silence for a while, watching people pass by outside. Ellis felt himself slowly reinhabiting his body, the tight coil in his chest easing.
Issaky broke the quiet eventually, voice soft. “How’s your mom?”
Ellis's spoon paused halfway to his mouth. It was a simple question. A gentle one even. Still, it landed heavy.
“It’s…worse,” Ellis said finally. “She’s drinking earlier, hiding it less. Pretending she isn’t, more.”
Issaky didn’t interrupt. He never did when Ellis talked about things like this. Instead he took another mouthful of ice cream and nodded for Ellis to continue. So he did.
“Clyde used to…” Ellis swallowed. “He used to notice. Before I even did. He’d change the subject, or distract me, or suggest a walk. He made it feel manageable.”
Ellis's throat tightened. “Him dying…it feels like losing my last parent. Not biologically, obviously. But functionally.”
Issaky reached across the table and took Ellis's free hand, grounding and warm. He was always so warm.
“That makes sense,” Issaky said. “You’re allowed to grieve him like that.”
Ellis nodded, eyes stinging. “I don’t think I ever said that out loud before.”
Issaky squeezed his hand once. “Well, I’m glad you did.”
They finished their ice cream slowly and Ellis couldn't help but notice the nervousness in Issaky, which was very unusual.
“What?” Ellis asked, scooting his now empty ice cream cup away from himself.
Issaky smirked, most likely pleased that Ellis had noticed to catch on to his worrying, “I have something I want to show you.”
Ellis raised a suspicious brow, “Okay? Are you going to be sus about it, or?”
Issaky released a laugh and shook his head before grabbing Ellis's trash and throwing it away. Ellis watched his smooth movements and couldn't fight the smile that crept onto his face. Issaky always had so much grace and charisma.
“Well, come on then.” Issaky grinned, holding out his hand.
Ellis took it easily and followed without thinking—another small miracle.
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The drive was quiet. Not the tense, brittle silence Ellis sometimes feared, but something easier and far more comforting.
The city lights blurred past the window as Ellis got lost in their shine.
He had always loved Seattle for its lights and culture.
A song came on the radio that Ellis only slightly recognized, but when Issaky started humming along, Ellis looked over and smiled.
Issaky’s hand rested on the center console, close enough that Ellis could brush it if he needed to.
Ellis didn’t realize where they were going until Issaky slowed the car and turned the radio down.
The record store. Ellis's breath caught.
Issaky parked, cut the engine, then got out of the car. Ellis watched, confused, until Issaky came around to his side and opened the door.
He held out his hand and Ellis just stared at it. “I’m not sure I’m ready,” Ellis said quietly.
Issaky met his gaze. “Trust me?”
The words hit deep, and before Ellis could second guess himself or Issaky, he nodded. Taking the man’s hand in his now shaking one.
They walked together to the front door and Ellis didn't have time to worry himself about what was happening. He saw it immediately. A small bronze plaque, mounted beside the entrance. It was simple and elegant. The kind of thing that didn’t demand attention, but rewarded noticing.
In Memory of Clyde Harper
Who believed music could save us
And proved kindness was louder
Forever part of this place.
Ellis's breath left him in a rush. He didn't know if he wanted to cry or not.
He had spent so many days doing that, but this time it felt different, less sad and more at peace.
Issaky listened when Ellis had said he wished he had something physical to remember Clyde by.
Sure it wasn't a personal hand written note, but it was… everything.
Ellis turned, eyes wet. “You did this?”
Issaky shrugged, a little shy. “He mattered to you. And he mattered to this city. I didn't know him long, but I didn't need to, ya know? He was a good man. That was easy to see.”
Ellis laughed, half-sob, half-release. “I have a hard time connecting with people,” he said. “It’s like… everyone’s on a frequency I can’t tune into. But not you.” He swallowed–pausing–unsure if his heart was going to take it back before he even spoke. It didn't. “I love you.”
Issaky didn’t hesitate, even for a moment. “I love you too.” He pulled Ellis in and kissed him then—slow, grounding, and full of promise.
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They hadn’t stayed long outside the record store.
The drizzle had started as a mist, soft enough to ignore, but within minutes it thickened into a steady pour that hammered the sidewalk and turned the streetlights into blurred halos.
Issaky laughed under his breath and suggested they make a run for it and head back to his place.
To his surprise, Ellis agreed without hesitation.
The drive was quick despite the rain. Wipers beat in a steady rhythm, pushing sheets of water aside.
Ellis barely noticed the city sliding past in streaks of neon and brake lights.
He was too busy watching Issaky–the soft but sharp planes of his face, the elegant line of his nose, the calm focus in his eyes.
There was something striking about him, a perfect balance of feminine grace and masculine edge, strength and beauty layered without conflict.