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Some days felt different.
Even if everything was just the same, some days just felt different.
Dean had woken up at the usual time, taken a shower, eaten breakfast with his mother and driven to the university. There, his everyday company waited for him in the usual spot.
But it felt different.
It was like something was supposed to happen that day like something was impendent, but he had no idea of what it was.
Regardless of the uneasiness, he was happy when he exited the car and Blake smiled at him just as he did every day.
- Hey, bunny boy. - the smiling man greeted, jumping down the sidewalk with a small hop. - Did you bring it?
- Good morning, Blake. - he greeted, smiling back while holding up his backpack so he could search inside. - I did.
Seconds later, the heir retrieved a phone with a cracked screen, extending it to his owner.
- Thank you, man. - the other grabbed the gadget with one hand, while the other scratched the back of his head. - I almost freaked out when I saw it was missing.
Dean snickered internally, imagining the scene.
The previous day, Blake had spent part of the afternoon and evening at Dean's house, like it had become rule ever since starting the volunteering work, a week before. Every day they would spend up to two hours helping the drama club, before making their way to Dean's house where they occupied most of their time studying, although there was some stolen time here and there for conversation or snacking, before Blake was, eventually, returned to campus on time for dinner.
Dean couldn't, and would probably never, put into words how much that extra time between them meant to him. The simple notion that he would get to spend even more time with his friend made all the volunteer work and constant stress payoff.
Looking now at the phone, Dean had to hide his smile when he remembered something.
- You used our photo for my contact.
That was an unnecessary observation, he knew. However, when he had called Blake's phone to locate it after Finn texted him asking if his brother had left his phone at his house, his face had been taken over by a smile once he spotted the phone and the contact image on the screen. The happiness was only increased by the fact that they had matching contact images.
Blake took a brief look at his phone and lifted an eyebrow at Dean, as if not understanding the surprise. The confusion was comprehensible, but having friends' numbers on his contacts was a new thing for him. A few months ago there was a total of five contacts in his phone: his mother, Mr. Ab, and Mrs. Lin, Miss Pam, and his father's number, that he had never been capable of deleting.
Now the number had doubled, and that's something that still made him smile to himself when opening the contact folder. Truth be told, he had yet to be the one calling or texting any of his new contacts, besides Blake. They had called each other so much, in fact, that Dean had embarrassingly ended up memorizing the other's number.
- If just this makes you that happy, - Blake finally responded, looking back at him with a smile. - watch me using it as my wallpaper.
Hearing the comment was enough to snap Dean back to reality and blink rapidly. He hadn't even noticed the ridiculous smile that had taken over his lips until it was pointed out.
The notion that Blake could see how joyful something so mundane made him, coupled with the slight teasing, was enough for his ears to feel warm. With a shy smile, he had to avert his eyes.
- I guess I'm not used to it...
- Hey, why the nervous face? - Blake questioned him, leaning his body so he could catch Dean's gaze on his. When eye contact had been established, the psychology student smiled openly. - I'm not teasing you, I'm really going to use it as the background.
- There's no need, really. - he insisted with the warm feeling spreading to his cheeks. - I'm just... not used to it. You don't need to.
- So, you don't want me to put it as the background?
Dean lifted his head to watch his smiling friend with a curved brow.
Blake could always see through him to an uncomfortable level, but it seemed that every time Dean hoped it to happen, he would suddenly become completely oblivious. And Dean had the feeling it was purposeful.
- It's not that I don't want it, but...
- Then it's done. - Blake interrupted, immediately occupying himself clicking through the phone. - I was thinking about doing it anyway, I just didn't know if you would mind it.
The Economics student was so surprised, he couldn't find the words to reply, limiting himself to watching the other change his phone wallpaper from a stock photo of some trees to their smiling faces. In no time, Blake happily announced success, turning the screen so Dean could see it clearly.
- Now I'll get to see you in sweats whenever time I unlock my phone.
Dean grimaced at the reference of his outfit that day.
For some reason, Blake found his aversion to wearing comfortable clothing around him hilarious. Even during that week they spent studying together, Dean had kept whatever outfit he had been wearing that day on until Blake left, even on those days where Blake had the opportunity to change before the volunteering work.
- I really don't get it. - Blake commented as soon as they began their way to the Economics department. - I've seen you in sweatpants and even pyjamas before, but you still refuse to be comfortable in your own home.
Dean gave a soft shrug but didn't voice any reply.
The truth was he knew how ridiculous it sounded, but how could he dress in his home attire with a guest over?
Pointing straight at his face, Blake squinted.
- I can be as stubborn as you, you know?
The tone was somewhere between a warning and a chuckle, but only when a mischievous smile showed on the other's face, did Dean arch his eyebrows, fearing what was about to come.
- Promise me you'll change once we get to your house or...
Dean's eyes kept glued to his friend in anticipation, which only made his smirk increase.
-... or I will make everyone look at us.
- I'll change, I promise!
There was no need for Blake to be more specific at that moment. The vague threat was enough to revive Dean's memories of when Blake had knelt down in front of him on the parking lot, a few months before. His friend had no sense of embarrassment and was incredibly honest, so Dean wasn't about to defy him and risk them being the center of attention once again.
Contrary to what was expected, Blake didn't celebrate his victory. Instead, his defying expression slowly faded, leaving behind a look that showed something was crossing his mind. It took a couple of seconds but finally, Blake returned to the real world, and Dean was surprised to see his friend shake his head.
- I'm sorry.
Dean was officially lost.
With a line forming between his brows, Dean gaped at his friend in confusion, receiving a guilty corner smile from the other.
- I shouldn't use your discomfort as a threat. I want you to be comfortable around me, but that's no excuse. - with the explanation, Blake bright smile returned to his deep red lips. - Forget what I said, you wear what you want.
The heir was left completely agape with the apology. He had never felt the least forced by Blake to do anything, but it sounded like Blake was dedicated to make sure the other was at ease with that friendship.
Now, with Blake's sweet words and bright smile, Dean was sure of one thing: there was no way he wouldn't change when they got home.
The volunteering went as usual. Mark and Blake worked on set pieces around Dean, while he worked on the model, sat at a small table they had arranged for him. Apparently, the house was particularly central for the storyline, a gift from the deceased mother of the main character, so Dean's obligation had been exchanged by the model construction.
The other two bickered as they always did, and he continued his task while Collin rehearsed. After two hours, the heir and his guide said their goodbyes and both left towards Dean's car, so they could go to the Metharom Mansion.
Everything was just like it had been for a week now... But it still felt different. The whole day had and he had yet to know why. Not only that, the strange atmosphere seemed to only have increased throughout the day.
Dean had to force himself to stop thinking about it or he would go crazy.
The car pulled up onto the garage at the same time his mother got out of hers. Seeing the two boys arriving, the woman smiled, waiting for them to also exit the vehicle.
- Good afternoon, boys.
Blake smiled at the woman while Dean retrieved his bag from the car.
- Hi Mrs. Metharom, thanks for having me again.
- Oh dear, there's no need for you to thank me every day. You are always welcome.
- He is going to continue thanking you, mother. - Dean assured her with a corner smile, closing the car. - He even insists on paying me snacks three times a week.
Although Dean had been the one suggesting the trade, he had to admit he didn't expect Blake to actually follow through with it. For someone whose memory wasn't perfect, Blake sure was insisting on not letting go of that deal.
It had crossed his mind that he could ask his mother to compensate for the price of the snacks on Blake's salary. After all, he doubted Blake was one to check the amount that entered his account every month. However, Dean wouldn't feel right deceiving his friend, so he had no other way besides always choosing the cheapest snack available.
- If that's the case, why don't you stay over for dinner today? - she suggested with a smile. - I have a business dinner today, so I won't be able to keep you company, but you are welcome to stay.
Dean looked to Blake, already expecting the answer.
That day at lunch the group had agreed on trying a sushi restaurant they had been eyeing for months now. Even Mark would be joining dinner, which wasn't a daily occurrence as he, besides Dean, was the only one not living on campus.
As anticipated, Blake gave a corner smile, scratching the back of his head.
- Thank you for the invite, but I already have plans.
He knew what would be the answer, but that didn't stop a pinch of disappointment to tug at him once it became official.
- What a pity. - she said, glancing at her son momentarily with a smile. - Dean was so excited when you spent the night over.
The denunciation caused Dean's brows to curve inward, staring his mother with eyes that whined in embarrassment, to which she responded with an amused smile.
The pull at Blake's lips showed he was aware of his friend's embarrassment but, taking pity on him, the man smiled back at the elegant woman.
- I really liked staying over too.
- I'm glad to hear it. My son spent the morning running around to make sure the house was in proper conditions.
Dean's eyes widened as his cheeks flushed. In desperation, he ended up extending his backpack towards Blake with a bit more force than necessary.
- Blake, could you please take this to my room? I will grab some food for us and I will be there in a minute. - he asked, but his tone was begging for the ground to swallow him.
Blake smiled from ear to ear with his embarrassment, but eventually nodded, grabbing both bags and making his way inside.
Dean followed him until reaching his mother, where he stayed behind, watching him walk away. When he was sure he wouldn't be heard, he turned his attention to his mother, with the inside corners of his eyebrows slanting upward.
There was no need, or chance, to say anything. The woman kept her smile and gave a delicate shrug.
- I'm sorry sweetie, but it's my duty as a parent to embarrass you in front of your friends.
He was about to point out that it was the first time in his life his mother had behaved like that, but his mouth snapped shut once he realized this was the first time in his life he had any friends to be embarrassed in front of.
All of a sudden, a sense of happiness covered the previous embarrassment.
She is treating me like a normal son.
After the exciting realization, Dean made his way to the kitchen, but his head was still wrapped in thoughts.
It still feels strange.
Dean never believed in premonitions, but he did believe in the subconscious recognizing patterns. Some people called it "sixth sense" or "gut feeling", but the end result was always the same.
The big question was, what was the change his subconscious was recognizing? Perhaps his mother had slowly been behaving more confident about him and that day was when he finally realized it... Or maybe it was the fact that he saw the picture Blake had set as the contact picture, and he somehow expected him to use the same image as the phone wallpaper?
No, neither of them felt like it.
Although his mother's matter made him happy, she had already shown the trusting tendency by allowing him to drive himself every day and spent the night at home alone with Blake. And regarding his friend, the joy that the background picture had given him was undeniable, but the peculiar atmosphere still felt bigger than that.
Then what could it be? What was so different around him that had completely seized his mind and made his skin feel prickly?
Blinking himself awake, Dean's mind returned to the real world where he had been staring at the kitchen cabinet for way too long, with Blake waiting for him upstairs. That realization caused him to hurry the gathering of their snacks.
In no time the heir climbed the stairs with a tray of cookie dough-stuffed donut holes and two glasses of orange juice, crossing paths with Ms Lin and Mr Abe. The short woman led the way, nagging about how " Madame's dress got wrinkled in the car", while the man followed with said dress inside a protective transparent cover, with an amused look, but no smile on his lips.
The young master smiled at the staff, greeting them.
- Oh mister Dean, I didn't know you had arrived. - Ms Lin commented, looking displeased upon seeing the tray he carried. - You should have told me, I would have brought you and mister Blake the food.
Dean smiled at the maid.
- The was no need to bother you, but thank you for your availability. - addressing know both workers, he lifted slightly the tray in offering. - Can I interest you in a cookie dough-stuffed donut hole?
The food was obviously not only for him, but he could just deduct from his part.
- No thank you, Sir. - Mr. Abe politely declined. - I'm attempting to better my diet.
- That's ridiculous. - Ms Lin clacked back, scowling at the butler. Returning her attention back to Dean, she smiled at the young master and thanked, before picking two of the dough balls and shoving one of them into the older man's mouth, who had no other option since his hands were occupied with the dress. - You are skin and bone. I have to start feeding more the people of his house, this is unbelievable...
As the woman continued nagging down the stairs, the butler looked Dean with an amused expression that made the young master chuckle silently. Watching the two workers descend, with Ms Lin still nagging at a silent Mr Abe, Dean smiled to himself. Then, returning to his mission, he hurried upstairs.
Entering his room, Dean smiled to his friend, who sat on his bed watching something on the big HD TV screen.
Throughout the many occasions Blake had been a guest at that house, Dean had noticed three things. First, Blake enjoyed the size and comfort of his bed; Second, Blake was fascinated by the size and quality of the TV, although the Psychology student still maintained he didn't even know where to look; And third: Dean thoroughly enjoyed having Blake sat on his bed, watching his TV, like it was the most natural thing ever.
The heir entered, laying the tray down at the coffee table.
- I'm sorry for the delay.
- You are bringing me food and still apologize. - the other teased, jumping out of the bed with a smile on the lips as soon as he saw the food. - What is it?
- Cookie dough-stuffed donut hole. - Dean replied approaching the bedside table, taking the rabbit keychain out of the pants pocket to put it back on display besides the bed. - I thought about making some hot chocolate, but I didn't want to make you wait. I hope you don't mind having juice again.
Once the rich man turned back to his guest, the latter already sat on the floor by the table, looking at him with a smile. Dean arched his eyebrows, looking down at himself in a search for something that could be eliciting that smile. When his search came empty, the heir looked back up to his friend with a questioning look.
Understanding his confusion only made Blake smile more and point towards the bedside with his chin.
- You always put it there.
A side of Dean's lips pulled, glancing again at the keychain.
- I don't want to lose it.
That was the one motive for the placement of what had become his nightly support. Dean was very particular about its placement ever since he thought he had lost it, after Ms Lin placed it somewhere else while cleaning, and he spent an hour scouring the house and car for it.
However, the main reason, was so it could be easily reached from his bed. Not that he would ever tell Blake, but there had been a multitude of nights where the heir could only fall asleep with the bunny in his hand, the soft feeling grounding him every time scary images started to fuse with reality as he fell asleep.
- Now come sit down. - Blake eyed the dough snacks with a smile, rubbing his hands together. - These look delicious.
- Please, go ahead. I'll join you in a minute.
After ensuring his guest was comfortable starting without him, Dean proceeded to his perfectly organized walk-in closet, picking up some clothing from his "comfortable at home" category and laying it on the long ottoman.
Looking at the black sweat pants and grey sweater, Dean pursed his lips.
Isn't it too casual?
No, last time I was even more casual, so this must be suitable.
But Blake is still wearing his what he wore for class...
Yesterday he was in sweatpants and I wasn't, it's the equivalent.
But I'm the one with the guest...
No. He's not a guest, he is a friend.
With a decided expression, Dean nodded to himself.
His hands made their way to the belt, but he halted when he remembered the door of the closet was still open. Walking over to the sliding door, Dean picked out to see Blake still sat on the ground with his eyes only diverting from the TV to pick up the food in front of him.
There was probably no risk of him entering the closet, and from where he sat he couldn't see inside... But Dean was still unsure whether to close the door or not.
The day Blake had slept over, he hadn't needed to worry about it, as changed clothes in the bathroom after his shower.
For most people, it would sound like a ridiculous concern. After all, they were both men, friends and it wasn't as if he was going to be completely naked. But he couldn't break the fear of being seen.
They weren't that noticeable anymore, it was necessary to look for them to see it and, even then, they could be confused for tiny scratches. But Dean knew they were there and their origin, and that was enough for him to feel self-conscious about it.
Eventually letting go of the belt, he made his way to the door and slid it close at an incredibly slow pace to assure neither the movement or noise caught Blake's attention. A few moments later, with the sweatpants already on, Dean glanced at the door once more before finally unbuttoning his shirt, sliding it off his body.
Staring at the wide mirror in front of him, he turned his body until being able to see his back.
To see... them.
Slowly, the heir ran his fingers over the thin protuberant marks, feeling the texture against his fingers contrasting the softness of the skin around.
Those scars were the only physical memory of what happened and, although undoubtedly ashamed of them, Dean was somewhat glad for their presence. They were there to prove to him that he wasn't completely irrational in his fears, that it wasn't his head making it all up to prevent him from having a normal life. He knew it sounded crazy, so he had never told it to anyone, but those scars were almost his way to say to the universe "It really happened.".
The sudden sound of loud coughing shook him awake, making his eyes shoot to the closet door.
- Is everything alright? - he spoke louder so he could be heard outside.
- Yeah, yeah! - Blake responded in a clogged tone, still trying to control the coughing. - I choked on the juice.
The pressure on Dean's expression was gradually replaced with a smile. Now with his mind broken out of his thoughts, the man hurried to dress the sweater laid down for him.
Blake was waiting for him and he wouldn't spend their time together wrapped in his thoughts.
When he finally joined his friend, Blake didn't make any comment about his clothing, but Dean noticed his quick check and smile, that immediately made the shy heir more comfortable with his current appearance.
The two men had their food while ignoring the TV to talk amongst themselves, and although Dean was clearly having a good time, the weird aura that had been following the whole day seemed to be increasing bit by bit. Even when they decided to start their studies, Dean couldn't find a way to focus on his work.
After over half an hour of fruitlessly staring at the papers in front of him, the frustration finally reached its boiling point, leading the man to let his head fall onto the desk with a deep sigh.
If he was alone he would probably take a break and do something else to clear his head, but he didn't want to disturb Blake.
Still, with his head laid on the desk, the heir moved lightly so he could peep at his friend.
Blake sat at the coffee table as had become the habit, with his stationary scattered around. Dean found himself smiling while looking at his friend, who seemed entirely focused on what he was reading.
A week had been enough time for Dean to memorize how the other's brows slightly frowned, creating a soft line between them that increased every time he came across a more difficult part, only for a proud smile to take over his lips once he was able to overcome it.
Watching his friend, Dean thanked once more to whoever or whatever had bent their lives in such a way they would meet each other, not only once, but twice.
Blake was unaware of it, but the fact they stumbled across each other was something that Dean thanked almost every day.
Meeting him again had even changed his view on that sleep walking episode years ago. It was so scary at the time but, in that present moment, Dean wouldn't change it even if he had the chance to.
His hazel eyes followed from the dark hair, to the attentive face, down to the hand that scribbled something on the notebook.
That was the person that offered a crying boy an umbrella, even though the rain was pouring on both; the same person who assured him time after time that being different isn't necessarily a bad thing while still taking care of him and considering his limits; the same person Dean was so lucky to meet.
The air insides his lungs froze and Dean's eyes widened to the maximum when everything on his mind evaporated, apart from one single thought.
I want to hold his hand.
Dean couldn't believe himself.
He wanted to hold Blake's hand.
He didn't wish he could do it, he wanted to do it.
All of a sudden, the strange feeling that had been following him all day made sense. It wasn't the day that felt different, it was him.
How long had that desire been growing inside him, he had no idea, but there was no denying it now.
His heart slammed against his chest so hard it hurt, oxygen didn't seem to be delivered to his brain and his stomach was twisting to the point he felt nauseous, but somehow his body was responsive enough to stand up from the desk chair.
The movement broke Blake's focus, making him lift his head from the notebook to look at his friend. Immediately, the man recognized something wasn't quite right, snapping his eyebrows together.
- Are you okay Dean?
Attempting to hide the nervous symptoms, Dean forced his shaky lips into a smile, pointing at the empty spot beside his friend.
- Do you mind if I sit here for a moment? I cannot concentrate.
Blake looked concerned, yet agreed still.
Dean felt his chest tightened when his friend slid to the side along with his stuff, obviously making space for him and his usual "safe zone".
Contrary to what was expected, and for the first time, that wasn't what Dean wanted. But, he kept his silence, taking the spot provided for him.
For a few long seconds, Dean's eyes run the contents of the table, in an attempt at avoiding the other's questioning look.
How was he supposed to go about doing it? His mind was covered in a thick haze and he couldn't seem to think.
- Are you really okay? - Blake insisted, leaning his head in an attempt at seeing his face. - You look like you've seen a ghost.
- Everything is fine. - he claimed, trying his best to hold his smile. - Give me just a moment.
As worried as Blake could be, Dean knew that if he insinuated he didn't want to talk about something, his friend wouldn't force him to. And that was exactly what happened. Regardless of his concerned expression, Blake nodded, returning his attention to the notebook.
A few minutes went by and the heir had yet to move in any way.
By this time, his panicked thoughts had become a bit more blurred, thanks to the lack of oxygen caused by the shallow breathing.
Dean kept his eyes locked on Blake's hand, following every single movement as if it could disappear any second.
He was scared out of his mind. He was so scared that his jaw was hurting with the tension. He was so scared that every time he envisioned himself reaching out for the other's hand, its own hand felt like burning, regardless of how sweaty they were.
But he had to do it.
He had to.
That was the first time in his life he felt brave enough to do it and he couldn't let the opportunity go or he would blame himself for the rest of his life.
After many minutes of nothing, something finally happened. In the process of flipping the page, Blake ended up bumping into his eraser, sending it down to the carpet.
The small movement was enough to snap Dean out of his trance, and he found himself reaching for the fallen object. However, Blake had the same instinct.
In a fraction of a second, Dean's heart was pierced with the inevitability of contact, as the hands trajectories were bound to collide. And then...
Nothing.
Dean stood there, frozen in place, with his rounded eyes locked onto the microscopic distance between them. Shooting his head back up, he was faced with an equally wide eyed Blake with a guilty expression.
No, no, no, no...
Retrieving his hand immediately, Blake stared Dean as if he had just punched the latter by accident.
- I'm so sorry. - Blake apologized in a low but panicked voice. - I didn't see.
No, no, no, please don't look so regretful...
Dean's mind was screaming and tumbling on himself watching how Blake shammed himself for almost touching him.
What was happening? Why wasn't Dean able to assure him he didn't have to feel guilty?
A corner of Blake's dark lips pulled, but the smile didn't reach his eyes.
- I'm going to be more careful, don't worry.
When Blake moved himself farther away, Dean felt like he was lost.
No! No! No!
He was screaming in his head, but no sound was coming out of his mouth.
Blake's eyes returned to his work while the other's mind fell in disarray.
Feeling his courage slowly fade, Dean truly felt like crying. The one chance at a normal life vanishing before his eyes, only leaving behind the permanent feelings of isolation.
Dean couldn't find an explanation for what his eyes did next, but there was no doubt he would spend the rest of his life thanking for it. With no apparent reason, he lifted his gaze to the bedside table, where a certain bunny was displayed.
That bunny had become his daily anxiety medicine, a reliant safe port... but there was someone whose ability to make him feel safe overpowered everything else.
Gently, Dean's eyes returned to the man in front of him, and everything seemed to go silent.
His chest was still on the verge of exploding, the air still refused to enter his lungs and the nauseating feelings still took over his stomach. But Dean consciousness wasn't recording any of that information. There was only one thing on his mind.
Gradually, a pale hand began sliding over the cold surface of the table.
"I'm not going to hurt you."
"See? I'm cool. I'm Blake, by the way."
"You are different, that isn't a bad thing."
"It's an anti-stress. You can squeeze it when you get nervous."
"You won't be around? I will miss you here."
"If anyone is making you uncomfortable, I will take care of it."
"Being brave is not the same as not being afraid. Being brave is about being afraid and still do it."
Time stopped.
Dean couldn't believe it, but the tips of his fingers were actually touching Blake's hand.
Glancing at the owner of the hand, Dean knew his touch hadn't gone unnoticed.
Blake's head was still down towards the notebook, his hand still holding the pencil against the paper, but there was no movement. Just as for Dean, everything seemed to have stopped, as he stared the pages with wide eyes.
Swallowing dry, Dean returned his attention to their hands.
Slowly, his hand moved forwards, gradually covering the fair olive tone skin underneath. At a certain point, a wave of panic washed over him, forcing him to stop and close his eyes. It took a couple of seconds, but when Dean was confident he could hold the vomit that threatened to make his way out, he gave the last push, completely covering Blake's hand with his.
Still with closed eyes, Dean was incredibly aware of the breathing in the room, and the warmth from the other's skin.
It doesn't hurt...
Dean was shocked by the revelation.
He was still incredibly uncomfortable with the sensation, but it didn't hurt.
By the time the man opened his eyes, tears were already gathering at the corner.
Even through the blurriness of the tears, he could see Blake was looking back at him, his mouth opened in disbelief. Dean didn't know how, but was able to show a shaky minuscule smile.
Blake smiled back and surprisingly he looked almost as sentimental as the one taking the big step. In a microscopic movement, Blake turned his hand, only enough to indicate his intention while his eyes searched Dean's approval.
After a deep breath, Dean gave a small single nod.
Permission given, Blake gradually turned his hand, until both palms were in contact. But it was at the moment when his fingers wrapped around the heir's hand in a delicate touch, that Dean could no longer hold back its tears.
His hand was so tingly that almost stung, his arm so tense there was no doubt it would be sore, his stomach turned and twisted to his core making him feel sick and a flood of tears marked his face in burning strokes... But none of that mattered when Blake held his hand, looking him with a gaze swarmed with affection.
- I knew you could do it.
The reassuring whisper caused the overflow of feelings that had been stored for so many years to finally burst out.
Dean spent what felt like the following few hours not being able to breathe between convulsions of silent cries, with his view prevented by the overwhelming amount of tears.
But that was alright...
Because Blake was there with him.
- Blake, dear? Did you hear me?
The young man was turned off his deep thoughts by the soothing voice of the woman in the front seat. He switched his gaze from the window to the passenger seat, from where Dean's mom looked back at him with a smile.
- I'm sorry, I wasn't listening.
- Are you alright, dear? You have been so quiet.
Blake had to smile at the charming woman, nodding.
He had never met Dean's dad, but he had a hunch Dean's sweet personality might have come from his mother. He wondered where Dean had gotten his immense courage.
Blake had always thought his friend was one of the bravest persons he knew, and that day's events only cemented it even more.
He still couldn't believe it.
When he had felt that shaky hand touch his, he genuinely thought he was imagining things. But he wasn't and Dean had really touched him. Not only that, it hadn't been just a graze of fingers, they held hands.
He wasn't much of a sentimental person, but he had no problems admitting that, when Dean broke down crying in front of him, he had to stop his own eyes from watering. Instead, he had just kept silent and let his friend pour out all those bottled up feelings, like it should be.
Ultimately though, when Dean had calmed down, he had to let go of his hand. Not because he wanted, but because the Dean's discomfort was starting to be unbearable, and it showed.
They hadn't talked much, after.
Dean had excused himself to the bathroom, closing the door behind. When Blake heard water running, he assumed that Dean was probably washing his hand, but eventually, he came to the conclusion that his friend was throwing up and using the sound of the tap in an attempt at covering it up.
Knowing the experience had been so extraneous on his friend made him feel somewhat guilty, as if he had forced him into, although he was very careful not to.
When Dean returned, he looked exhausted, his face discolored and puffy and swollen red eyes. But, unbelievably, he was smiling.
That was all Blake needed to mitigate his concerns.
The heir barely had enough strength to walk, so his guest insisted on fetching some food for him, not accepting a "no" for an answer. Unfortunately for him, the kitchen was just as massive as the rest of the house, so he had some trouble locating anything that wouldn't require preparation. Luckily, Dean's mother herself came into the kitchen just in time to indicate to him where her son's favorite cookies were stored.
Before he could return to Dean's room, the woman had proposed to Blake that, instead of Dean having to drive him back to the university, her and Mr. Abe could just drop him off on their way to the business dinner.
On a normal situation, Blake would have probably still agreed, but knowing Dean was in no condition to drive cause him to accept immediately. And Dean probably had the same opinion, because when Blake returned with the food and explained the situation to the rich man, he agreed with a small nod.
A few minutes later, it was time for Blake to go.
- I was telling you that my assistant just informed me there is a problem with the computer system, so your salary might take a couple more days to get through. - she continued, packing her phone on the elegant clutch. - I hope you don't mind.
For the first time, the allusion to the payment had a strange effect on him.
He had been receiving that salary for some time now, but it had never had that effect on him.
His eyes lowered towards his hands laid on his laps, and he found himself gently caressing his fingers over the palm that not an hour before had been held.
Something didn't feel right...
And he knew what it was.
- Mrs. Metharom?
- Yes?
- I want to quit.
Blake's body was sent slightly forward when the car velocity suddenly shifted. Glancing up, he could see Mr. Abe watched him through the rear-view mirror with a surprised look, but that paled in comparison with the lady's expression, that bordered between shock and disbelief.
- I beg your pardon? - her body twisted on the front seat so she could face him. - You want to quit? Did something happen between you and my son? Did you have a fight?
Noting how drastic his announcement had sounded, Blake quickly waved one hand in negation while the other adjusted the seatbelt, which had shifted with the sudden decrease of speed.
- No, no, everything it's just fine between us. - he assured, giving a corner smile in an attempt at lighting the mood. - We are better than ever, actually.
The woman appeared a bit calmer with his reassurance, but her manicured hand still clutched at her chest.
- Then why do you want to resign? - her voice was soft but it showed her concern. - My son needs you so much. He really appreciates your company.
- Believe me Mrs, he's just as important to me. That's why I want to quit.
Mrs. Metharom frowned lightly, in confusion, which led Blake to give a corner smile, further explaining himself.
- I won't stop helping Dean, Mrs, don't worry. But I don't want to be paid anymore.
- You... don't want to be paid...?
- Yeah.
Her puzzled expression remained.
- I'm sorry, but I'm afraid I don't quite understand.
- Dean and I are friends. - he said scratching the back of his head, searching for the right words. - It doesn't feel right to be paid for it.
The woman's expression softened with the explanation, the frown exchanged for a soft smile.
- That's really nice of you, dear, but if you are going to do it either way, why not keep the income?
Blake smiled back at her, openly.
- I have no idea.
The direct answer caused a soft laugh from the woman. He also noted Mr. Abe smiling in silence through the rear-view mirror.
Dean's mom kept her smiled, looking straight at him.
- Are you sure that's what you want?
Blake glanced down at his hand for a few moments before looking back up with a smile.
- I'm sure.
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I have been so excited to post this chapter! What did you think?! Please give me your opinions, I really want to know what you think of this chapter! 😍
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P.S.: I broke my phone and it lost everything in it, the worst is that I had the story of the novel mapped out in there and now I can't remember half of the chapters I had planned 😭