Sylvester PoV
I poked my head back into Drew's room and saw him curled up into a ball, crying.
I frowned. Maybe I should leave him alone. Forcing him to listen to me might just cause him more despair. I didn't want to make things worse than they already were. Yet, a part of me couldn't just walk away.
I took a hesitant step inside, the floor creaking softly beneath me. "Drew?" I said quietly, unsure if he would respond. He didn't move, and the quiet sobs continued to shake his body. My pulse quickened as I fought the urge to rush to his side.
After a moment, I sighed and turned to leave, but something stopped me. I couldn't abandon him when he needed me most. I recalled the way he had looked at me, the fear in his eyes, and how he had fought against something he didn't understand.
So, I made a decision. I wouldn't push him to talk, but I would stay close. I pulled a chair from his desk and sat down, keeping my distance but remaining present.
The silence stretched between us, punctuated only by Drew's soft cries. I rested my head against the wall and closed my eyes, letting the sound of his sorrow wash over me. I hoped that by being there, he would feel less alone.
As the minutes passed, exhaustion began to set in. I hadn't realized how drained I felt from the day's events—the fear, the tension, and the emotional weight of it all. I fought against it, but my eyelids grew heavier, and I found myself slipping into a light sleep.
In the haze of my dreams, I could still hear Drew's muffled sobs, a haunting reminder of his pain. I wanted to reach out, to tell him everything would be okay, that we would figure this out together. But the exhaustion wrapped around me like a comforting blanket, and I let go, allowing sleep to take me.
---
When I stirred awake, the room was still dim, the shadows casting long shapes across the walls. The sounds of Drew's crying had faded, replaced by an eerie stillness. I blinked a few times, disoriented, and looked around.
"Drew?" I called softly, my voice hoarse from sleep. There was no immediate response, and a sense of unease crept into my chest. I got up from the chair, stretching my limbs as I walked over to the bed.
He was still curled up, but now his body was quiet. I knelt beside him, my heart racing as I gently placed a hand on his shoulder. "Drew?"
Slowly, he turned to face me, his eyes puffy and red from crying, but there was something different about him now—something less frantic.
"Hey," I said softly, giving him a small smile. "How are you feeling?"
He took a deep breath, the tension in his shoulders easing as he met my gaze. "I don't know," he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. "I'm still scared."
"I get that," I replied, my heart aching for him. "But you're not alone in this. I'm right here, okay?"
Drew nodded slowly, still looking vulnerable, but I could see a flicker of determination beginning to spark in his blue eyes. "Thanks for staying," he said, his voice thick with emotion. "I wasn't sure if I wanted to be alone or if I wanted company."
"I'll always be here for you, Drew," I assured him. "No matter what. Just remember that."
He managed a small smile, and it felt like a fragile truce between the darkness that had threatened to consume him and the hope that still lingered.
"You really are too nice for your own good," Drew said, a hint of a smile flickering across his face.
I blinked, momentarily caught off guard by his comment. I wasn't sure how to respond, so I simply chuckled softly. "I guess I just can't help it."
He sighed, the weight of everything still pressing down on him. "Weren't you afraid that I might lose control and bite you while you slept?"
The question hung in the air for a moment, and I felt my cheeks warm at the thought. "Honestly? A little," I admitted, trying to keep my tone light despite the seriousness of his words. "But I trust you, Drew. I know you're fighting this."
He nodded, his expression thoughtful. "I appreciate that, but it's still a risk."
"I'll take the risk if it means being here for you," I replied, my voice firm. "Besides, I'd rather face that than leave you alone while you're dealing with all this."
Drew smiled softly, the corners of his mouth lifting slightly. "You really mean that, don't you?"
"Of course I do," I replied, feeling a warmth spread through me. There was something reassuring about his smile, even if it was fragile.
His gaze softened, and for a moment, the weight of the situation seemed to lift just a bit. "Thanks, Sylvester. It really helps to know you're here."
We shared a moment of silence, the kind that felt comfortable despite the heaviness that still hung in the air. But then, Drew shifted his position slightly, and I caught a glimpse of discomfort crossing his face.
"I think I need a shower," he said suddenly, his voice low. "I feel… gross."
I nodded in agreement. "Yeah, probably a good idea. You've had a rough night."
Drew sat up, and as he did, I noticed the dampness of his shirt, clinging to his body. One could see his pecs and toned abdomen.
My heart skipped a beat, and I quickly turned away, trying to focus on anything else. The last thing I needed was to get flustered over Drew.
As he moved, I heard a soft rustle in front of me. "Hey, Sylvester?" Drew asked, sounding a bit more playful now.
"Yeah?" I replied, still not turning around.
"Are you sure you're not secretly gay?" His tone was light, teasing, but I could hear the curiosity beneath it.
I froze, my heart racing. "What? Where did that come from?" I shot back, trying to keep my voice steady.
He chuckled softly, clearly enjoying my discomfort. "I mean, you've been really supportive and all. It's just… funny that you're so willing to stick around while I'm all messed up, despite how much of a jerk I've been toward you since we met."
I took a deep breath, trying to navigate the sudden tension. "I'm just trying to be nice, that's all."
He hummed. "I see. Well, you should probably make sure you cover up that bite mark I left you. People might think wrong."
I blushed and covered up my mark. "Right, I—uh, I should probably take care of that. I ran off, almost tripping on air while doing so. Ugh, why was I so lame?