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writing-whump · 4 months ago

Note

Would love a part 3 of fevered Isaiah!! (psst. they’ll have to call seline and Matt at some point, right? Maybe something about them picking zaya up when he’s a bit better and taking care of him until he’s fully recovered?)

Also he’s breaking my heart with the mom thing :(

But also “ow” was so cute <3 🍄

Thank you! I really liked this idea cause I didn't see it coming at all and then it kind of fit together...emotional stressed out Hector, Arnie with a headache, Isaiah still very weak.

I managed to put in as many requests as I could! Big thank you to everyone who send their ideas!!✨️

Isaiah sick part 3

Arnie woke up in the morning on the couch, freezing. He rubbed at his eyes, trying to identify what could have woken him up and how he got there.

The flashes from last night flooded his head in a rush, making him stagger as he got up. Ah right.

The door closed softly which alerted him to further movement.

Hector got out from their guest room, currently occupied by Isaiah. He didn't move at all, rooted to the spot, eyes downcast, shirt all crumpled.

"Hex?" Arnie whispered.

Hector didn't lift his head.

Arnie tiptoed closer to put a hand on his elbow. "Hey..."

Hector let out a heavy sigh before suddenly pulling him into a hug. Arnie's head went back a little as he was crushed against his brother's chest unexpectedly. "That bad, huh?"

Hector said nothing, but breathed in, all loud and shaky near Arnie's ear.

This must have been the longest hug Arnie had gotten from Hector in a while. And it was for a change for his sake more than Arnie's. "I'm sorry. You could have woken me up-"

"No. You got the first half, I got the second," Hector mumbled, still holding him like he barely kept himself from breaking Arnie's bones.

"How is he?"

That was when Hector finally loosed his grip. "Asleep. Still feverish, but nothing like before. I will hear if something comes up."

Hector trailed towards the living room though like he craved nothing more than to put a bit of distance between himself and that room. He collapsed on the coach into the mess of blankets Arnie slept in, rubbing at his forehead with both hands.

Arnie felt torn for a second, but figured Hector wouldn't have left Isaiah alone if he wasn't semi-stable. He sat down next to him. Waiting for whatever would bubble up. It wasn't like Hector to suppress his feelings.

"I fucked up real bad."

Arnie perked up, eyes narrowing. "Whatever do you mean?" There was a lot to choose from.

"With Isaiah."

"He said something in his sleep?"

Hector hesitated. "He said a bunch of stuff that he wasn't aware of. But did you see...his look in the bathtub?" Hector carded a hand through his hair, his face still pressed against the other one. "How scared of me he was?"

"He was just panicking cause he didn't understand what was happening."

"He must hate me so much." Hector looked up to Arnie, his expression crumbled and heartbroken. His amber eyes were shimmering. "He would really believe I would- but why wouldn't he, right? He could never rely on me back at home- I told him when we saw each other- such horrible things- and he-" Hector broke off, breathing picking up as he spiraled himself into a panic.

Arnie put a hand on his shoulder, shifting closer. "Hex."

"You never gave up on him. But I did. I hated him for so long, I played right into father's hands, into every self-destructive, self-loathing martyr illusion Isaiah wanted-"

"Hex," Arnie said, more firmly now as he own stomach somersaulted at the words.

Hector made a strangled sound at the back of his throat, then looked away, burying his face back into his hands. "He is right to hate me for that."

"He doesn't hate you," Arnie sighed, climbing behind Hector's heaving back.

"But he should. How could I have ever thought- ever believed- ever given up on him like that?"

Arnie leaned against Hector's back, wrapping his arms around his broad chest. Just holding him as he fought with the air in his lungs. He was trembling all over in Arnie's hold.

"You didn't give up," Arnie said into the silence when he thought Hector calmed down enough to listen. "You followed after him. Trained like crazy to get a branch position in the city he was at. Went to the same school. Did missions around his neighbourhood. You kept obsessing and hating him, wanted to defeat him, overcome him - don't you get it? You were always trying to stay connected to him. The opposite of love isn't hate, it's indifference."

The trembling was dying down. Arnie propped his chin on the top of Hector's head, the curls tickling against his cheek.

He dipped forward as Hector folded over his knees with a quiet gasp.

Arnie understood before Hector. Just like he usually did when it came to Hector's emotions.

"Take deep breaths. It's gonna be alright. Don't worry about anything, okay? I'll check on Isaiah."

It was a testament of how badly Hector felt, still bend forward guiltiling himself into a stomachache, that he let Arnie take over.

...

"You look pale."

Arnie almost jumped out of his skin when Isaiah said that. It was the most coherent sentence since last night.

"I look pale? You should look at yourself, man." He was so happy to hear Isaiah speak he jumped up onto the edge of the bed. A bit quicker than he should have, maybe. There was pressure building behind his eyes.

"What happened?" Isaiah still lost lost beneath the covers, hair sprawled around his sheet white face. But his eyes were clearer now, getting back their worried edge.

"Not much," Arnie said nonchalantly. "You got sick and feverish. Hector watched over you at night."

Arnie picked up the glass of rehydration solution, inserting the straw with a hint of satisfaction that it was proving useful. He held it against Isaiah's lips until the older man took a couple of hesitant sips.

"Where is Hector now?" Trust Isaiah to pick up on that.

"Taking a breather. Didn't get a wink of sleep."

Isaiah's frown deeped into something hurt and guilty.

"Not that that's a problem!" Arnie added quickly. "He was happy to do it."

Isaiah stared at him in a way that made him shiver. "Something's wrong." It wasn't a question.

"No, you are just sick." Which was technically the source of the problem. Arnie put his hand against Isaiah's cheek and then forehead. Still low-grade fever, but getting better.

"Get some more sleep. Everything’s fine." They could get into the drama tomorrow.

Isaiah looked like he wanted to protest, blinking rapidly to get himself awake.

Arnie took his hand, rubbing over his knuckles. The effect was surprisingly strong and almost immediate. Isaiah's body relaxed although he didn't, eyelids falling shut.

Arnie could tell when he went under by the frown clearing away.

...

Isaiah woke up rapid pounding in his chest.

He was sweaty all over again and his heart was racing as if he was running or in the middle of a difficult spar. He felt every beat against his ribs, the muscles straining. Was he supposed to be so aware of where his heart was and what was hurting about it?

Lifting himself up proved to be a challenge. His arms were shaking from the strain, but he wanted to see if sitting up would help with the fluttering sensation of something big and angry trapped in his ribcage.

As the pressure eased slightly, a new problem emerged—dizziness. The room spun wildly, preventing him from focusing.

He swayed on the bed and threw his legs over the edge of the bed blindly. Giving the walls time to get back into place and stop waving.

Nobody was in his room. But at least he recognized where he was, so he wasn't hallucinating from fever anymore.

When the waving on the floor and walls receded, Isaiah took a couple of deep breaths in preparation to drag himself to his feet. The room swayed and swam again, but he was braced for it, leaning on the wall for support.

The apartment was too quiet. Hector should have heard his out of the bounds bearing heart, but didn't.

Something more serious must have been happening and he wanted to see what it was, damn it.

He struggled with the door handle and had to go at snail pace. A hand against the wall at all times. He took frequent stops to just breathe and blink the blacks spots from his vision.

Isaiah reached for his shadow on instinct. He was hurting so he wanted it fixed. His shadow obediently rippled up and through him. Focusing on his chest, trying to ease the painful papilations. The hopeful anticipation made it better for a couple of seconds, but by the time his shadow pulled back, the pounding was back the same.

Ah. So this was the heart issue then. Made worse by the fever strain?

At least he wouldn't have to worry about it being serious. Gridding your teeth and powering through was his specialty, anyway. He was more frustrated by the slow pace he had to take and the several dizzy spells that forced him to take breaks.

By the time he made it to the living room, his legs were shaking, muscles randomly twitching. The thudding of his heart got worse, more intense, pounding loudly in his ears. This was exhausting as hell.

Hector was sitting curled up on the sofa, head in his hands. Arnie was on the floor by his side, head leaning on his forearm with a pained line between his eyebrows.

They both looked up as he shuffled nearer in shock. Truly too preoccupied to have heard him. "Alright, what's going on?"

"Why are you standing up?" Hector said, shoulders jumping as he glared at Isaiah. Then he winced as if the mere sight hurt and looked to the side.

"Because," Isaiah grunted, leaning his whole side and shoulder against the wall to keep his balance. "What's wrong with you two?"

"No one was there, when you woke up," Arnie realized, clumsily climbing to his feet. "I'm sorry. How's the fever? I'll get you more aspirin and water, okay?" He hurried away apologetically.

Isaiah focused his swaying gaze on Hector. "You look worse than me."

"You wish," Hector murmured instinctively, but the playful bite was missing. "You are barely keeping upright. Sit down at least." But Isaiah noted that Hector didn't move to help.

"You couldn't have caught it so quickly," Isaiah mused as he eased himself on the ground. Everything was spinning again and he was getting light-headed. His heart was fluttering and jumping painfully and he felt like he coud pass out any second. "What happened last night?"

Hector pressed his lips together together, hands balled into fists.

Isaiah's head pounded in synch with his heart as he tried to focus. The clarity from sleeping was leaving, his thoughts sticking together at random places. His heart made another painful flip.

"Your heartbeat is weird," Hector said suddenly, tilting his head in his direction.

"I noticed," Isaiah said dryly. He was getting frustrated. There was nothing he could do to help. Physically or mentally, he couldn't even grasp whatever the problem was. "It's fucking exhausting," he said quietly, face twisting as he rode out another flutter. His hands and feet were tingling.

Hector's eyes widened and he sprang to his feet this time. "All the more reason to get you back in bed. Come on."

Hector's hands were stiff and cold as he helped Isaiah back to his feet and to the room. Isaiah was barely registering at that point, the way back so much faster than his long stride to get there.

The whole time, Hector didn't look him in the face or meet his gaze. Something about his was closed off, upset, like knives under his skin. Hurting, but buried too deep to be visible.

Hector was about to hurry away from Isaiah's reach, knowing he couldn't follow a second time.

"Arnie looks like he is in pain," Isaiah croaked.

Hector stopped in his tracks, but didn't turn back.

"You look like you are too. Please. You gotta tell me what's wrong," Isaiah insisted, voice trailing away.

Hector's hand gripped the doorframe. It creaked from the force. "Go back to sleep and get better. That's enough."

Isaiah's eyes were burning and he knew it was from the fever and the constant fluttering pain. But not being able to help, solve or get involved? He could not imagine anything worse.

So he reached for his phone, thoughtfully prepared on the nightstand by Arnie.

...

"Is this the right place?" Seline asked, looking around even with her heavy bag filled with groceries. "It's such a fancy building."

"That's Wolfson pack for ya," Matthew grumbled. He was carrying two even bigger bags. "Definitely the right one. I can smell Hector all the way from here."

"Won't we get in trouble with his pack?"

Matthew took a careful breath through his nose. "He is the only wolf on the floor. They must be scared shitless to live any closer."

Seline nodded. That was good. Hector and Isaiah being on good terms was still not quite in the open, considering the truth about Isaiah's father wasn't known to the rest of the pack.

"I still can't believe he allowed us to come," Matthew said, eyebrows furrowed as they moved forward.

"He outright asked us," Seline said, agreeing with the sentiment. It was highly unusual for Isaiah. All the more because they have never been to Hector's and Arnie's place before.

She opened the door first since Matthew's hands were full and she wasn't sure about his reaction. Matthew and Hector could be considered allies, right? Since they have helped each other before and because of Isaiah...

Yeah, better she went first. No wolf would harm a witch. They could actually make use of that natural calming effect here.

A slim blond kid was just exiting the kitchen, when they came in. This had Hector jumping to his side that second.

They weren't expected then.

"What the hell are you doing here?" Hector growled at Matthew. He looked pale and sickly green. Like he was the one sick. It was a bit hard to take him seriously, stripped down to a white undershirt and shorts.

"Saving your sorry ass, as usual," Matthew said, puffing his chest out with a grin.

"I didn't ask you to-"

"Hey, you must be Arnie," Seline interjected, looking at the smaller blond. Arnie looked so much like Isaiah she was still gawking. Like a perfect mini-copy, minus the blond hair that was longer, more tousled and therefore wavy. His wide green eyes stirred something protective in her.

18 years old. Her brother Dylan was 19 and she knew the age didn't change anything about the teen being a big buff, but stupid and childish just the same. It was one trouble after another with him. But Arnie looked young. It made her heart ache to think Isaiah was this age when he left the pack behind.

"I'm Seline. Nice to meet you." She offered her hand hesitantly since she had to reach beside Hector to do so. "Isaiah told me so much about you."

Arnie looked a bit awed but took her hand. "Hello." He looked at Hector for directions like a lost puppy. The older put himself protectively between Matthew and Arnie, glaring daggers at the redhead.

Matthew shook his head. "Chill out, man. I wouldn't do anything to Isaiah's little brother."

"But to a random human kid you would?"

"Fuck you."

Hector growled.

"You are on his territory, you know," Arnie said quietly. "You shouldn't open your mouth at him like that."

Matthew narrowed his eyes at Arnie. "You are pretty mouthy yourself."

Arnie stood his ground, despite the wolf being much taller than him. His green eyes glinted with spite. "I'm not gonna cower in front of you just cause you have a shadow and a temper, mate.

Seline cleared her throat. That was worse than she expected. "Isaiah said we better come because you aren't doing so well." Both brothers seemed pale and strained to her.

"We are fine," Hector hissed. "We don't need help and we didn't call you and what the fuck is this supposed to mean-"

"It means you managed to stress Isaiah out. Again." It sounded like a joke, but Matthew's expression was anything but.

Hector's face reddened and he actually winced like he got punched. Arnie scowled. "Who do you think you are to-"

"Okay," Seline said. Matthew was way too protective and strung up to not react to Hector, who seemed way too unsteady on his feet to her. "Matt, would you be so nice and go check on Isaiah. Thank you."

It was strange to her that he was alone in the room while the two were roaming here. Something was off. "I got a bunch of groceries, so maybe one of you could show me where to put them?"

Matthew moved to sidestep Hector, but the other wolf didn't budge out of the way.

"Hector," Seline amended, kicking herself. All that stuff about hierarchies and shadows that Isaiah tried to explain came to her mind. "You guys have been doing a great job helping. Can we help too? You know how seconds get with their leaders out of commission." Nobody minded she was Isaiah's girlfriend and dying to go check on him herself. "May we?"

Hector huffed, but something in him deflated at the formulation, his shadow satisfied. Matthew quickly walked through to Isaiah's room, leaving her alone with the brothers.

"He's an asshole," Hector growled, then swayed and braced against the wall. One of his arms snaked around his stomach.

Seline frowned, not sure if she should call him out on it or not. "Hector-"

"I'm fine," he grumbled, no heat in his voice. Her witchy magical aura was doing its job. He didn't mind her talking back or being there. She wasn't sure if she would dare to come if that wasn't an effect she could count on. "Help Arnie, he's got a headache."

He turned away. Seline was about to ask more questions, but when she noticed he went into the bathroom, she stopped. She would check on him later.

"Headache or migraine?" Seline said, looking at Arnie. The kid was still pounting, looking between Isaiah's door and the bathroom where Hector had just disappeared to.

"You know about that too? Geez," Arnie said with a wince. "What groceries?"

Seline shrugged. "It sounded to me like Isaiah wanted you taken care of. I got things for a soup, meds, all kinds of things for stress, digestion, fever,...painkillers..." she said, looking at him.

Arnie sighed. "It's nothing. I'm used to it."

"What number?"

Arnie frowned at her. "How do you know about the numbers?"

"You are not the only one with migraines in the family. If it's just the onset of a migraine, maybe we could stop it from developing further. What about you lie down, get some painkillers, and relax? Would that be possible?"

Arnie shuffled his feet. "I should help Hector, he is..."

"Taking it hard, isn't he," Seline said gently. "I heard he gets sick when emotional."

"I don't know if I like that you know so much," Arnie said with a grimace.

"It's not my fault Isaiah can't shut up about you two," she said with a wink. She felt another wave of affection and protectiveness, looking at how undecided and lost Arnie was.

"Did you have any breakfast yet?"

Arnie looked away, hands going into his pockets. Was he boycotting her?

"You have been helping a lot, haven't you. But you won't help anyone if the headache gets into a full blown migraine, right?"

He looked at her sullenly then, biting into his cheek.

"You don't have to feel bad about it. Just let me take care of you so you can be back to worrying full stop. Did you have anything to eat yet?

Arnie shook his head no.

"Then maybe eating could also help with the sugar low. What are you in the mood for? Ham and eggs? Croissant? Cucumber salad?"

"Cucumber salad?"

"Just cut cucumbers and yogurt and salt. Best food for warm summer days."

When Arnie didn't immediately say no, she took it as a yes.

...

Isaiah couldn't really sleep. He just drifted in and out from a pained haze. There were flashes of memories and the faces of his brothers. A feeling of dread. His chest hurt, like something was pressing on it.

There were sounds coming from the door, but he wasn't sure he wasn't just dreaming it up.

Until light came from the opened door, the only source since the windows were covered.

"Hey, Zaya, don't pretend you are asleep, I can tell."

Isaiah opened his eyes at Matthew's playful tone, immense relief washing over him. "Hey."

Matthew invited himself inside, perching on the edge of the bed. "Dude, you look rough. It's somehow hitting you worse than me."

"I'm sorry I had to call you," Isaiah whispered, slowly lifting himself up on his arms.

"I'm sorry you caught the plague from me," Matthew said back, waving off his apology. "And I'm glad you called. I would be fucking pissed if you didn't, to be honest."

Isaiah snickered feebly, finally managing to sit up. The room was spinning again. His head felt floaty, like it was about to fall off.

"Okay, spill it. What's wrong and what can I do?"

"Oh, you know. Feverish, dizzy, scaring the crap out of everyone."

Matthew seemed to have picked up on how hard it was for Isaiah to move, cause he shifted out of the way, leg bent on the bed to be closer. "Still with the fever?"

"It's better. But I really wanna get out of here." He hung his head, blinking at the black spots in his vision. "Please."

"Man, if you aren't feeling good yet, we can just stay here. Don't think your two hosts are very eager to let you go."

Isaiah gulped down uneasily. "I never should have stayed. Shouldn't have come. They never should have seen me like this-"

"Zaya, come on. You can't give yourself such impossible goals. Everyone gets sick sometimes. They will get over it."

Isaiah fought hard against the pressure in his throat. "B-but they are so broken down by this - look at what it does to them." Arnie was on the edge of a migraine, Hector barely standing from how nauseous he felt, and neither being able to look him in the eye. "Must be so disappointing-"

"Cut that crap," Matthew said sternly. "They are not. You just scared them a little."

"Then let's leave here already," Isaiah all but whined, swaying forward. Matthew turned so Isaiah could lean into his side, taking his weight.

"Nope. I think this is good, actually. They need to see this. That you are human too." He draped his arm around Isaiah's sweaty back, pulling him closer. "Just maybe portion it a out little more next time."

Isaiah chuckled, then coughed when that limited his oxygen a bit more than he wanted. He pressed his forehead into Matthew's shoulder. His chest felt tight and he was dripping with sweat from how much his heart struggled to be visible and on his mind at all times.

"Your breathing is all off," Matthew said, eyebrows knitted together in concern. He rubbed Isaiah's arm up and down. "And why is your heart doing that?"

Isaiah clenched his jaw, plastering up a crooked smile. "That's a new one."

"I don't think you should be feverish for that long with...that."

Isaiah was just happy he could let go so completely in front of Matthew. He was basically slumped against him, the pressure from his chest and his breathing coming a little easier when upright.

"Anything I can do? Aside moving you, that is."

Isaiah took a shuddering breath, closing his eyes. He didn't understand this at all. It wasn't like Matthew could take away from the crushing pressure, the way his chest seized and let go or the tiredness of the fast pulse. But leaning against him like this, him being all concerned and eager to play a support pillar made it feel more manageable. Warmth was spreading over his chest and his hands weren't trembling so much anymore.

When Isaiah didn't say anything, Matthew sighed. The hand around his back went up into his hair, brushing the sweaty strands away from his face. A trickle of perspiration ran down the side of Isaiah's face. He shuddered at the sensation.

Matthew grabbed one of the drying up towels from the night and gently nabbed at his face and neck. "Christ, you are giving your body a run for it."

"Wasn't like this yesterday...chest hurts all over," he said quietly, daring to rub at his left side where his heart was pounding against the flesh and his skin with a vengeance.

"Okay, shhh. Relax. Breathe and relax, everything is fine."

"Feels like I'm gonna pass out. Since morning. Just..." he motioned at himself, hiding his face against the spot between Matt's neck and shoulder.

Matthew tensed, but his voice was steady. "Yeah, I got you, man. It's fine. You know if you feel like...passing out, then just...ehh...do it? I'm right here."

Isaiah had to smile a little at the reassurance. He turned his face to the side so he could breathe more freely, still leaning against Matthew's shoulder. He fisted his hand in Matthew's shirt like he could hold onto him when he started to fall.

"I hate seeing you like this," Matthew growled in frustration. "I wish there was something more to do. Like pills or something that would make it better."

"I'm inclined to agree with you today," Isaiah whispered, letting his eyes fall shut. Whether he fell unconscious or just asleep, he was too tired to fight it.

And he knew Matthew would be there either way.

...

"How is Arnie?" Hector said tiredly.

When Hector didn't immediately bite her head off, Seline slipped inside the bathroom, closing the door gently behind her. "I got him to eat, lay down and take some painkillers. If he manages to sleep, he will should feel better soon."

Hector peered at her with dull eyes. He was curled up on the floor, between the toilet and the bathtub. Sweat was beading on his big eyebrows and he was hugging his knees to himself.

She stood there awkwardly, watching him. She was not good with the soothing words and hand-holding. But she could be practical. "Did you throw up?"

Hector turned his head away. There was a long minute of silence where she could see the muscle in his jaw clenching and relaxing. "...No. Still feels like I might."

"Stomach hurts or just nauseous?"

He lay his head on top of his knees. "Kinda both."

"Okay." Selined went out and returned quickly with a small bottle of coke. "Take a sip of this."

He glared at her. "For real? Why?"

"Phosphoric acid, caffeine and sugar. All really good against nausea." Especially when it comes from the mind, she added to herself.

Hector gave her an indignant look, but she just knelt by his side, waiting. Finally, he took the bottle, screwing it open to take a small sip.

"There. It works like a charm, I swear."

"Not the kind of charm I expected," Hector grumbled. He tensed a little after the first sip, but then relaxed and took a few more.

"Ice cream also helps. I got a bland one with me." When Hector gave her another weirded out look, she shrugged. "Something about the coldness is soothing."

Hector uncurled his legs, taking more daring sips from the coke as he leaned against the wall.

"You know," Hector said after a while, "this is a pretty crude invasion of privacy."

Seline sighed. "Look. I can leave you alone if you prefer, but sometimes just having someone around helps. Mind if I sit with you for a bit?"

Hector was quiet again, before clenching his teeth together and giving a tiny little nod.

Seline suppressed a smile and sat down on the floor next to him. She stretched out her hand. "If you want, you know, the witchy kinda help..."

It wasn't entirely comfortable to be touching a strange wolf and she would be having contact with his shadow...which was pretty damn intimate kind of contact. But she knew the magic in her skin was humming to him, that he was able to react more calmly around her and if the contact itself helped clear his head and stop feeling so shitty...she was willing.

Hector recoiled from her. "No." He balled his hands into fists, glaring angrily at the opposite wall.

He was upset, but suppressed his shadow's reaction. He was polite or brought up strictly enough to not take a witch's offer of contact lightly, even though his shadow must have been singing to touch her.

Seline could tell he had a temper going and he was quick to raise to Matt's provocations, but his shadow never moved. He was more like Isaiah that way.

Seline settled more comfortably against the wall, wondering what else to say. Silence was a good tool though. People were so uncomfortable with it they often started talking just to fill it.

"I'm so lame, aren't I," Hector said into the quiet echoing off the bathroom tiles. "He is sick and I'm-" he broke off, pressing his closed fist against his forehead.

Seline didn't say anything, mirroring his position of hugging her knees and watching him with bright blue eyes.

"During...during the fever, he got scared. Of me," Hector admitted, talking slowly. "And I get it. He doesn't have a reason to trust me. I was the one who-...but he acts like he does and he shouldn't, cause I don't deserve it anyway." His throat bobbed audibly at the end and he pressed his lips together tightly.

"Are you upset he trusts you or that he doesn't?"

Hector shook his head, head leaning more against the wall as he squeezed his eyes shut. "I made a mistake. I shouldn't- he shouldn't be even giving me a chance."

Seline leaned her head back just as he did, looking at the wall, parallel to his gaze.

She was starting to see the trick. Hector figured out a balance of not letting his shadow go, but expressing his feelings openly. It was completely different from Matt or Isaiah. Expecially in contrast to the latter, it was very refreshing.

"Your shadow," she said. "You are angry, but it doesn't react. Matthew can't do it. Usually, his emotions and shadow are too tightly linked."

Hector's forehead creased as he opened his eyes. "What?"

"But I still trust him. Love him, you know? It's not like that stops just because you make a mistake."

"That was the biggest mistake of my life."

"Well, at least you can make sure you won't do it again," she said.

"But what if I don't deserve another chance?" Hector whispered.

"I don't believe that's your call. He should decide if you are worth the effort. And he obviously decided you are. Don't doubt what strength he puts into that choice."

"So what am I supposed to do?"

"Don't leave him. Don't do it again. Act like you deserve his trust until you do." She looked at him and added more gently: "Prove it to him and to yourself."

Hector met her gaze steadily, before breaking off with a sudden burst of hoarse laugh. "Jesus, that's heavy literature. Do you have an answer for everything?"

"Well..." she blushed, looking away. "You asked."