As the door to the nurse's office quietly clicked shut behind Dorian and Rhys, Lyrian stood frozen, his hands still gripping the edge of the counter. His heart pounded in his chest, the steady rhythm of it nearly deafening in the sudden quiet of the room. The tremor in his hands that he had worked so hard to conceal now returned with full force, his fingers trembling against the cool surface.
He had prepared himself for this moment, had rehearsed the possibilities in his mind over and over. But nothing could have truly prepared him for the overwhelming surge of emotion that had flooded his chest the moment Dorian walked through the door.
His son. Dorian was right there in front of him, injured, vulnerable, and so close that Lyrian could feel the warmth of his presence, sense the familiar scent of his child mingling with the sterile smell of the office. The sight of Dorian—the boy he and Kaelen had given up to protect, the boy who had grown into a young man under someone else's care—had hit him like a tidal wave, knocking him off balance.
For so long, Lyrian had imagined what it would be like to be near Dorian again, to see him even from afar. That was why he had taken this job—choosing to blend in as a school nurse, hiding in plain sight. It had been the only way he could think of to be close to his son without revealing the truth, without risking everything. He and Kaelen had made a pact to protect Dorian, even if it meant staying out of his life. But now, being so close to him... it was harder than he had ever imagined.
His breath hitched slightly as he replayed the brief interaction in his mind. Dorian had looked at him—really looked at him—and for a fleeting moment, Lyrian had seen a spark of recognition in his eyes. The boy didn't know, of course. How could he? But something in that gaze, in the way Dorian had hesitated before leaving, told Lyrian that some part of Dorian could feel it too—the connection, the pull between them that couldn't be easily explained.
Tears pricked at the corners of Lyrian's eyes, but he quickly blinked them away, forcing himself to stay composed. He couldn't lose control, not here. Not now. He had to be strong, for Dorian, for the promise he had made all those years ago.
Taking a deep breath, Lyrian straightened up, his hands slowly stilling as he placed the medical supplies back in their proper place. He needed to keep a low profile, to continue blending into the background. But the urge to reach out, to speak the truth, to tell Dorian who he really was... it was overwhelming.
Still, he couldn't let that happen. Not yet.
"Be patient," He whispered to himself, his voice barely audible in the empty room. "Just be patient."
He knew that being near Dorian was both a blessing and a curse. Each day, he would watch from the sidelines, trying to be content with the small, fleeting moments. But after today, after seeing Dorian so close, he wasn't sure how much longer he could hold on to that promise of distance.
With one final glance at the closed door, Lyrian exhaled slowly, steeling himself for the days to come.