Adam tried to repress a yawn and ended up making a funny face.
Nickie chuckled, leaning back against the bus seat.
"You tired?”
"Like a son of a bitch."
"Heh."
"Hey, be my pillow." He leaned his head on her shoulder without waiting for an answer, his weight surprisingly light despite his size.
She didn’t tell him to move.
A few minutes passed, the hum of the bus lulling them into a quiet calm.
Adam shifted, his head sliding down until it rested naturally in her lap, as if it was the most ordinary thing in the world.
Nickie’s fingers instinctively brushed through his hair to keep it from falling into his eyes.
The dim lights inside the bus flickered off as it began to move through the night, leaving them in a cocoon of quiet darkness.
Adam stirred briefly but didn’t open his eyes, his breathing evening out. Nickie’s touch felt steady and comforting, grounding him in a way he hadn’t realized he needed.
She watched him for a moment, her fingers still lightly grazing his hair. A small smile tugged at her lips.
‘This is nice,’ he thought, the warmth of her presence chasing away the usual tension in his chest.
‘Why does she feel so much like… home?’
He almost wanted to cry with relief.
Moments later, he drifted into a deep, dreamless sleep.
David was sitting a few rows back, his legs stretched out and his arms crossed, his head tilted against the window as if asleep. But beneath the facade, one eye remained slightly open, catching glimpses of Adam and Nickie.
He saw the way Adam’s head had slid into her lap, the way Nickie’s fingers moved so gently through his hair.
It was rare to see Adam so relaxed, so unguarded.
A hidden smile tugged at the corner of David’s lips.
‘About damn time,’ he thought, suppressing a chuckle.
He closed his eyes fully for a moment, letting himself bask in the small victory of this quiet, unspoken connection between them.
For once, the weight on his shoulders felt a little lighter, knowing Adam had someone like Nickie to anchor him.
Still, David kept one ear open, one eye peeking now and then, like an older brother always ready to step in if needed.
But tonight, it didn’t seem like his help would be necessary.
With a satisfied sigh, he let his head tilt back, the smile never leaving his face as he drifted closer to sleep.
***
Your turn
“Adam, we're here.”
Nickie’s soft voice brushed his ear like a feather.
They got off the bus slowly, heavy with exhaustion. The equipment was unloaded. The bus pulled away, taillights fading into the night. As soon as they finished putting the gear back in the studio, Adam turned to David.
"I'm gonna-"
"Take Nickie home. Yeah, yeah. Get her safe," David cut in, smirking.
Adam looked at Nickie. She gave a nonchalant shrug.
“Night, Dave.”
“Night, guys.”
The taxi’s doors shut behind them. As soon as the car began to move, Nickie leaned her head onto Adam’s shoulder and mumbled,
“My turn.”
Adam’s lips twitched into a smile.
He clumsily tried to tuck her hair behind her ear. A few strands slipped back.
She giggled. “That tickles.”
His smile grew.
He twirled a lock of her hair in his fingers, holding it near her mouth.
“Say ahh.”
“Mmmm.”
“C’mon.”
“Fiiine… ahh.”
He gently fed it into her mouth like a joke.
Nickie hummed, waiting.
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“Okay, okay, I’ll get it out.” He chuckled and retrieved it.
This time, he tucked her hair more carefully behind her ear. Then again. And again.
The movement softened into a gentle caress. Nickie let out a small sigh, her body relaxing against him.
‘That felt good…’
He couldn’t stop. Her hair was soft, almost hypnotic.
He just wanted to keep touching her. Not just her hair. Her cheek…
Those lips looked soft too…
‘No. Stop it,’ he thought, forcing his hand away.
“Why’d you stop?” Nickie asked, eyes still closed.
“I thought you were asleep. Didn’t want to wake you.”
“It felt really nice,” she murmured.
She reached up and found his hand, placing it back on her head.
“More, please.”
A wave of something warm and powerful hit Adam.
He didn’t know how to name it. Only that it was good.
He continued petting her hair gently.
The scent of her shampoo.
The weight of her head on his shoulder.
Her warmth. Her softness.
All of it made him feel... right.
He didn’t want it to stop.
They reached her home.
He let go of her hair, hand burning with the loss.
‘Why does it hurt to stop?’
Later, alone in the guestroom bed, he lay on his back, wide-eyed in the dim night light Nickie left on.
He couldn’t stop replaying it.
Her smell.
The softness of her hair.
Her fingers on his forehead.
That ridiculous moment by the mirror.
Her skin.
Her lips.
His face flushed. His body heated.
He turned on his stomach and pressed his forehead to the pillow.
‘I… I like her. Not like a sister.’
The thought hit him like a crash cymbal.
‘I LIKE her.’
He buried his face deeper into the sheets, groaning to himself.
“Shit.”
***
Where the Fire Doesn’t Burn
Adam hadn’t felt this way in a long time. A pure, consuming desire.
It surprised him, even scared him.
It wasn’t like then.
Back then, it always hurt, a heavy weight suffocating him.
But this… this was different. This felt alive. Real. For the first time, Adam realized he had feelings.
Strong feelings.
His reaction was both physical and emotional, and it overwhelmed him.
He lay still, the echoes of his past clawing at his mind.
‘It’s not the same. That wasn’t love. That was just manipulation. Control. Pain.
All that’s left of that is pure hate.’
But doubt crept in.
‘What if I’m mistaken again? What if I’m wrong?’
He closed his eyes and thought of Nickie.
‘No, she’s the opposite. She’s kind. Thoughtful. Smart. Confident. Even when she gets mad, she’s never... crazy. She’s nothing like HER.’
The thought gave him fleeting comfort, but it couldn’t stop the memories that surged forward.
Memories of being submissive, forced to obey to prove his “love.”
The humiliation, the constant erosion of his self-worth, followed by painful punishments… He reminded himself again and again:
‘That wasn’t love. That was control. That was abuse.’
Panic clawed at his chest. He couldn’t breathe. His heart felt like it would burst.
‘No, no, no, please make it stop.’
He could feel the flashback coming, unstoppable.
‘I don’t want to think about it. I don’t want to remember!...’
Adam felt himself slipping, the images dragging him under. His body shook as he curled into himself, clutching his knees.
He hated that he couldn’t make a sound, that even his pain was something he’d been conditioned to keep quiet.
The room spun, and in his mind, he was back there.
***
Flashback and Panic | Adam’s pov (Trigger Warning: Violence)
My eyes locked on the door, waiting in terror for HER to return.
Every breath was labored, every muscle screaming.
I wanted to scream, but I wasn’t allowed.
She was always watching.
Waiting for the weakest moment, so it would hurt more.
I was starving, dizzy, too tired to stay alert, but I had to.
Even the smell of her fried chicken made me nauseous.
"Does it want to breathe?" I suddenly felt her whisper right in my ear.
Her tone was casual, like she wasn’t watching me suffocate.
The pain. It wouldn’t stop.
It burned, clawed through my body.
LET ME DIE.
Please…
Just let it end…
***
I slipped out of my skin.
All that was left was a shadow on the wall.
I floated. I saw the room but not with eyes.
I dissociated. Mind escaping the unbearable.
I could still think. Still rage. But my body wouldn’t move.
I hate her.
A distant purring... soft warmth pulling me back.
Suddenly, breath returned. Muscles tensed with fire, but I could move.
I had to get to David.
But I couldn’t just run… not with the door unlocked, not with Nickie still inside.