9. Butterflies playing around

The doctors had swiftly taken action.

After making sure the warriors were fine, they rushed Elliot to a nearby room, their concern for his condition evident in every movement.

Liam had followed them in a fit of rage, his fists clenched at his sides, and his mind was clouded with a single thought—I failed to protect him.

He had been by Elliot’s side for so long, acting as his protector, as his friend, his everything, and yet in that moment, when Elliot had collapsed in Aslan's arms, all he felt was overwhelming guilt.

He had promised Elliot he would keep him safe, and yet, there he was, powerless.

'Wait....promised?'

'When?'

His memories began to swirl in his mind, snippets of his past that had long been buried deep inside him, memories that he had forced himself to forget—until now.

The pain of the moment triggered something within him, and his memories began to flood back.

It was the exact same pain he felt a while ago, when he went up those stairs in the hidden cave!

Liam stood in the room, his breath coming in quick, shallow gasps.

He wanted to scream at Aslan, to make him pay for what had happened, but he couldn’t.

Not yet.

There was too much confusion, too much pain, too much of his own buried history coming to the surface. He clutched his head, feeling as though the memories would break him.

Aslan, meanwhile, stood outside the room, a stone-faced sentinel.

He had seen Elliot collapse, had seen the tears fall from his eyes as the boy clung to him.

He had acted without thinking, kissing Elliot to soothe him.

But even as his lips had touched Elliot's, a part of him knew that it would be a moment that neither of them would forget—or possibly regret.

Aslan’s heart beat steadily in his chest, but his mind was far from calm.

He sensed the tension in the air, and as he turned to face his younger brother, Eric’s face was twisted in a mixture of disbelief and anger.

Eric stormed toward Aslan, fury radiating from him.

Without warning, Eric raised his hand and slapped Aslan across the face.

A stunned silence fell over the onlookers, and for the first time in years, Aslan’s face remained emotionless.

He was not surprised. He had expected something like this.

Eric’s voice was harsh, almost desperate.

“A fair duel,” he demanded.

Aslan didn’t flinch.

He stood still, his emotions masked behind the cold, implacable exterior that he had cultivated over the years.

But deep down, he understood. Eric wasn’t just angry—he was hurt, confused, and had a heart torn between loyalty and something much deeper.

It was only a few years ago, and the scene replayed in Eric's mind with vivid clarity.

He had approached Aslan one evening, his face flushed with embarrassment, his heart racing. He had confessed something that he hadn’t understood at the time, something that now made so much sense in the face of what had just occurred.

“I think I’m in love with Elliot,” Eric had told Aslan, his voice unsure but full of longing.

“I can’t stop thinking about him. It’s impossible to think about anything else.”

Aslan had been stoic, offering nothing more than a nod. He didn’t show emotion in such moments—he never had.

But something had shifted inside of him, a small ache that he hadn’t been prepared for.

He had never imagined that Eric, so free and lighthearted, would ever feel something so deep for Elliot.

And yet, in that moment, he couldn’t help but feel a slight pang of jealousy—something he hadn’t expected.

But it wasn’t just jealousy. It was fear. Fear that his younger brother’s feelings might conflict with their shared bond with Elliot.

Fear that Eric’s love might somehow change the dynamic between them all.

The memory of what happened before came flooding back to Eric. It had been a warm summer afternoon, the sky clear, and the air filled with the sounds of chirping birds.

The village was alive with the laughter of children running through the streets, and among them was Elliot, sitting peacefully on a bench.

Elliot had just finished telling a story to a group of young children, his voice gentle and captivating.

The children were enchanted, hanging on every word as they played nearby. When the children finally scattered, leaving Elliot alone, he rested his head back against the bench, closing his eyes.

It was then that Eric had approached, as quiet as ever.

He had always been drawn to Elliot, even more so now, with this strange, blossoming feeling growing inside him.

Without saying a word, Eric had sat down beside him, content to just be in his presence.

Elliot’s smile spread across his face when he recognized the familiar scent.

"Eric," he murmured softly, his voice like music, making Eric’s heart skip a beat.

"Hey," Eric had replied, his voice cracking slightly, betraying the nervous energy bubbling inside him.

He tried to hide it, but Elliot always had this effect on him.

The way Elliot’s gentle voice made him feel seen, the way his smile could melt away his worries.

Eric sat in silence for a moment, watching Elliot, appreciating the peaceful moment.

And as always, it was Elliot’s presence that filled the silence between them, soothing whatever restless energy Eric had.

But then, out of nowhere, Elliot suddenly reacted. A small, soft laugh escaped him as his hand moved instinctively toward his nose.

“What’s that?” he asked in a soft, puzzled tone.

Eric chuckled, a warm, teasing sound. "It’s a butterfly," he said, amused. "It’s just playing around."

"So there is a butterfly sitting on my nose?" Elliot chuckled. Then he paused for a moment, and with a slow, deliberate movement, he reached out with his delicate fingers, brushing them lightly against his nose.

"Hello, little buddy," he said sweetly. "I’m Elliot. Your wings are tickling me."

The butterfly didn’t hesitate; it hopped onto Elliot’s fingers, delicate wings brushing against his skin.

With a soft breath, Elliot gently blew at the butterfly, and the creature took off into the air, fluttering away.

Eric was mesmerized.

He had always admired Elliot’s beauty, but in that moment, he was completely captivated.

His eyes never left Elliot’s face—his soft features, his gentle smile, his serene expression. It was as if the world around them had faded away, and all that mattered was the quiet intimacy of the moment.

For a second, Eric didn’t even realize he was leaning in closer, his knee almost touching Elliot’s, his fingers grazing against the other boy’s.

His breath hitched as Elliot’s soft, melodic voice rang in his ears.

The air between them grew thick with tension, and as they sat so close, he couldn’t help but notice the subtle brush of their skin against one another.

And then, Elliot’s head turned, and their faces were so close, their breaths mingling in the air.

A single thought flitted through Eric’s mind—Just a bit further... just a bit more...

Then...

it would finally touch....

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