CHAPTER 90: THE TRUTH

Chapter 89

Nolan

Deciding to stop stalling any longer, I force myself to breathe and stop being a coward. My palms are sweaty, my heart’s in my throat, and it feels like if I don’t say this now, I’ll choke on it.

"I’m afraid," I blurt out.

Ciel turns to me instantly, his brows pinching in concern.

"I’m afraid our relationship has changed," I add, the words heavy but oddly freeing.

Ciel exhales sharply, and to my surprise, he looks relieved.

"I am too," he admits. "I’m so, so afraid. It feels like the very foundation of what makes us us has been shaken."

I get that. I really do. Because that’s exactly how it feels—like we’re balancing on new ground that could crack at any second.

"Yeah," I say softly. "We’ve never gone there... unless we exclude your lessons and that night we don’t speak about."

Ciel visibly flinches at the reminder, and I curse myself internally. I rub the back of my neck, trying to ease the tension I just caused.

"I’m sorry, Ciel," I mutter.

"What are you apologizing for?" he asks quietly.

"I feel like... I don’t know." I swallow hard. He’s looking at me, patient, steady—the way he always has.

"I feel like... I feel like you were forced into doing something you didn’t want to do," I finally say, voice cracking slightly. And there it is. The real, ugly fear sitting in my chest.

***

Ciel

What?

"What?" I say, completely thrown.

"Why the fuck would you think that way?!" The words come out louder than I intend, sharp with disbelief.

"Man, I don’t know," Nolan mutters, avoiding my eyes.

I lean forward. "That’s not true, Nollie. I wasn’t coerced or whatever the hell you’re thinking."

He scoffs under his breath.

"Nolan," I warn, my tone low.

"I don’t know, okay?" he bursts out. "We’ve been platonic all our lives. How am I supposed to believe you’re suddenly okay with... or attracted to me that way?"

I blink, momentarily stunned by the sheer unfairness of it. "That’s not fair. I should be the one saying that to you! The whole lessons thing, asking you to be with Jack—everything. How am I supposed to know you don’t secretly hate it and you’re just giving in to me the way you always have?"

Silence falls between us, heavy and raw. It’s all out now. No pretending. No skirting around it.

"I don’t hate it," he says finally, almost too soft.

"I don’t hate it either," I reply.

"It’s different," he whispers.

"How is it different? This is uncharted territory for both of us," I counter.

"You’re wrong. It’s different," Nolan insists, his hands tightening on the table.

"What? You’re not making any sense. How could it be different?" I press.

His lips tremble as if the words are stuck there, fighting to get out.

"It’s different because..." he trails off.

"See? You can’t even come up with a valid reason," I say, frustration and fear tangling together.

His head snaps up, and suddenly he yells:

"It’s different because I’m in love with you!"

***

Nolan

Fuck.

The words hang in the air, too loud, too real. My chest burns, and my heartbeat roars in my ears. I didn’t mean to say that. I wasn’t supposed to say that.

I look away from Ciel, out at the wide open ocean, pretending it can swallow me whole.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

I really didn’t mean to say it like that. Not now. Not here.

What the hell happens now?

***

Ciel

In love?

Like... love love?

I blink at him, feeling the words echo in my skull, unable to believe they actually came out of Nolan’s mouth.

"Like love, love?" I ask, my voice quiet, a little dumbfounded.

He lets out a low, tortured groan, dragging a hand down his face. "Yes. Like love, love."

Oh.

I’ve noticed Nolan looking at me differently lately — softer, lingering a little longer when our eyes meet, touching me like I might break if he wasn’t careful. I thought it was something recent, because of what we did.

I didn’t realize it was this.

"Oh."

That’s all I manage. Because really, what else is there to say?

Nolan groans again and covers his face with both hands, like he can hide from what just happened.

"I’m sorry. I didn’t know," I whisper.

"It’s okay," he says with a small, self-deprecating laugh. "Honestly, I’d like to say I hid it really well, but Jack could tell within five seconds of meeting me."

I freeze. Jack knows?

I repeat, "I’m sorry," like a broken record, like somehow those words can untangle this knot between us.

"Don’t be sorry. It’ll make me feel pretty fucking shitty, Ciel," he says without looking at me.

"I’m s—" I start, then bite down on the word and shut up.

"That’s why it’s different," Nolan finally admits, voice low. "I didn’t hate it... because I’ve always wanted to cross that line with you. I’m scared now because, unlike me... I was genuinely just a friend to you. And I don’t want to ruin that."

My brain is spinning, trying to catch up to everything he’s laying bare in front of me.

"I thought we were friends," I say softly, not accusingly, just... unsure.

Nolan finally drops his hands and looks at me. His eyes are red around the edges. "We are friends. Best friends. You’re literally the other half of my soul, Ciel."

My throat tightens.

"But you’ve been... is that why—" I begin, but he cuts me off quickly.

"Stop." His voice is steady now.

"Ciel, it’s not mutually exclusive. You are my best friend, and I am in love with you. One doesn’t take away from the other."

***

Nolan

I let out a shaky breath, forcing myself to hold his gaze.

"I don’t know what you’re thinking," I say carefully. "But I haven’t been around you because I’m in love with you. I’ve been around you because you’re my best friend. And yeah—because I love you."

His eyes widen slightly, like the words hit somewhere deep.

"You’re just... so perfect," I add softly, the corner of my mouth twitching in a sad little smile. "I stood no chance, I was bound to fall."

He lets out a breath, something fragile in it. "I’m just thinking about all our conversations, everything... I’ve been so insensitive. I’m sorry."

I groan again, pressing a hand to my face because God, he doesn’t get it.

"Ciel," I say, meeting his eyes, "my feelings are my own. You’re not obligated to reciprocate or act cautiously around me. Don’t carry this like it’s your fault."