CHAPTER 102: RESOLUTION

Chapter 101

Ciel

He looks stricken, but I keep going—the dam already broken, the words spilling out faster than I can stop them.

He opens his mouth, but I lift a hand, shaking my head.

"Please. Let me finish."

"Every day," I say, voice trembling, "there’s this voice in my head—telling me that today’sthedayyou’llgettiredof me. That you’ll finally see I’m not worth the trouble, not worth the patience. That you’ll leave."

My breathing quickens, shallow and uneven. I press a shaking hand to my chest, trying to stop the ache that’s been building there all week.

"And what happened with that alpha..." I hesitate, forcing myself to exhale, the sound coming out shaky and small.

"It reminded me of what I am. It was like a splash of cold water."

I turn fully toward him, fists clenched in my lap. He’s staring at me, completely still. I meet his eyes, and for once, I don’t look away.

"I’m not confident enough to believe you’ll love me regardless, Jack," I say, my voice breaking.

"Not when you’ve got so many better options."

The silence that follows is suffocating.

He blinks once, slow—like he’s processing what I just said, like it physically hurts to hear it.

I let out a shaky laugh, trying to keep my voice steady and failing miserably.

"You could have anyone. Someone easier, someone who doesn’t come with all of this—" I gesture vaguely to myself, to my trembling hands, to the emotional mess I’ve been these past few days.

***

Jack

No. No. No.

I didn’t know he felt that way.

Every word he said still echoes in my head like someone’s slowly hammering nails into my chest.

"I’m not confident enough to believe you’ll love me regardless."

Fuck.

I feel like absolute shit.

How did I miss this? How did I not see that behind all those smiles and teasing remarks, he was drowning in insecurity?

I thought I was careful. Gentle. I thought giving him space, patience, softness would be enough.

Turns out, all I did was leave enough silence for those voices in his head to grow louder.

I drag a hand through my hair and stare at the wall. It feels like it’s closing in.

God.

I hate this world.

I hate how it took someone as bright as him and convinced him he’s something disposable. That he’s only worth the way people look at him, not the way he is.

I press the heel of my palm against my eyes and breathe. In. Out. It doesn’t help.

He thinks I have better options?

There’s no one else.

Even if I did— even if the world lined them all up, polished and perfect, I’d still pick him.

Always.

I don’t even know why. Maybe because with Ciel, things are never easy, but they’re real.

Ciel is it for me. He’s the only one.

There’s no one else.

...Him and Nolan.

I exhale, my chest tightening.

Arghhh—fuck.

I feel so horrible.

The guilt sits heavy, thick in my throat, and I can’t keep still anymore.

I turn to face him. He’s sitting there, eyes still rimmed red, fingers worrying at the hem of his sleeve. The sight alone hurts.

"I’m sorry," I say quietly. The words feel too small for everything I want to fix.

"I’m sorry," I say quietly. The words feel too small for everything I want to fix.

"For just thinking of myself, and undermining what you went through... and everything else." My voice wavers, but I push through it anyway. "I should’ve handled things better."

He shakes his head almost instantly, the movement sharp, desperate. "No, no—you were right to feel the way you did. I was at fault for avoiding you."

I exhale, rubbing the back of my neck. "No, I mean—yes. I mean—fuck." The words tumble out, messy and useless.

Ciel blinks, a faint crease between his brows. "What now?"

I look at him, really look at him,the faint puffiness under his eyes, the exhaustion still clinging to his shoulders, and the fragile hope flickering somewhere underneath it all.

"Are we okay?" I ask quietly, like I’m afraid the answer might break me.

He hesitates for half a breath before nodding. "Yes," he says softly.

That single word is enough to knock the air out of me.

I pull him into a hug without thinking, wrapping my arms around him, pressing his face against my chest. He tenses for a second, then melts into me, his fingers gripping the back of my shirt.

"Good," I murmur into his hair. "Because I don’t ever want to lose this."

***

Jack

He’s so warm in my arms, so fragile yet grounding. I can feel his heartbeat against my chest, small and unsteady but there, and it’s enough to pull me back from the edge.

For the first time in what feels like forever, I breathe properly.

Ciel doesn’t say anything for a while, and neither do I. The silence between us isn’t heavy anymore, it’s careful, deliberate, like we’re both afraid to move too quickly and shatter whatever fragile thing has finally started to heal.

After a moment, I feel him shift, his voice muffled against my shirt. "You really scared me, you know."

I blink, pulling back just enough to see his face. "When?"

"When you hit that alpha." His eyes dart away, guilt flickering across his features. "You were... you looked ready to kill him."

I pause. "I was."

He frowns, and his lips press into a thin line. "You can’t just—"

"I know," I interrupt gently.

"But Ciel, when I saw him—when I smelled him on you—something in me just... snapped. It wasn’t logical. It wasn’t moral. It was instinct."

Ciel sighs, his fingers tracing small circles against my chest absentmindedly.

"That’s what I’m scared of sometimes. That instinct. You’re so calm, Jack. Always in control. But when you lose it, it’s terrifying."

I rest my forehead against his. "Yeah. Terrifies me too."

He huffs a faint, humorless laugh. "You? Terrified?"

"Every damn day," I admit.

"Of losing you. Of saying the wrong thing. Of not being enough. Of this world taking something from me before I can protect it."

He tilts his head, eyes softening. "You really mean that?"

"Do I look like I’m joking?"

He studies me for a long moment before whispering, "No."

I smile faintly. "Good. Then we’re both terrified idiots."

That earns me the smallest laugh,a fragile, breathy sound,but it’s real.

I tuck a strand of hair behind his ear and press my lips to his temple. "You don’t have to be perfect for me, Ciel. I didn’t fall for the idea of you. I fell for you. For your temper, for your sarcasm, for how you always pretend you’re fine when you’re falling apart."

He closes his eyes. "You make it sound poetic."

"It’s not," I say. "It’s just honest."

We sit like that for a long time, tangled together in the half-light of the room. Outside, the sea breeze drifts through the open window, carrying the faint scent of salt and quiet. For a moment, it feels like the world’s finally stopped spinning so fast.

Then, softly, he speaks again. "Do you think we’ll ever be normal?"

"Define normal," I say, a faint smirk tugging at my lips.

"You know,boring. Ordinary. People who argue about dishes, not... trauma and hierarchy and pheromones."

I chuckle. "You’d hate being boring."

He smiles, the kind that starts slow and hesitant before blooming fully. "Yeah, maybe I would."

His eyes flick to my lips, and for a heartbeat, the air between us stills.

He leans in first ,slowly, almost uncertain and I meet him halfway. The kiss isn’t hungry or desperate; it’s soft, grounding, the kind that feels like a promise rather than an apology.

When he finally pulls back, he whispers, "I missed you."

I grin, brushing my thumb across his cheek. "You had every chance to un-miss me. You were the one hiding in bathrooms."

He flushes, burying his face in my chest. "Shut up."

I laugh quietly, holding him tighter. "Gladly."

For a while, we just stay there,breathing, existing. The kind of peace that doesn’t come easy but feels worth every bruise, every broken moment.

After some time, I murmur, "You hungry?"

He hums faintly. "Starving, actually."

"Perfect," I say, standing and tugging him up with me. "Come on. I’ll make you something edible."

"Edible?" he echoes suspiciously. "You mean you’re actually cooking?"

"Don’t sound so surprised. I’m a man of many talents."

"Setting fire to a toaster isn’t a talent, Jack."

I gasp dramatically. "You wound me, sunshine."

He giggles, that familiar sparkle finally returning to his eyes, and I swear my heart eases for the first time in days.

We head downstairs together, Ciel still wrapped in one of my hoodies that swallows him whole. Nolan’s on the couch, reading something on his phone, but when he sees us, he gives a slow, knowing smile.

"You two good?" he asks.

Ciel nods shyly, and I grin. "Better than good."

Nolan’s eyes soften. "Good." He stretches. "I’ll grab groceries. Don’t burn down the house while I’m gone."

"No promises!" I call after him, earning an eye roll as he leaves.

When the door shuts, the silence that fills the house isn’t heavy anymore, it’s light, almost comfortable.

I turn to Ciel, who’s watching me with that same unsure tenderness that used to scare the hell out of me.

"What?" I ask.

He shakes his head. "Nothing. Just—thank you."

"For what?"

"For staying."

I step closer, brushing my knuckles against his cheek again. "I told you, sunshine. I’m not going anywhere."

And this time, he believes me.

Or atleast I hope he does.