Closer

Cove's past was marked by the weight of high expectations placed upon him by his wealthy and esteemed family. Born into privilege, his parents had grand aspirations for him to become an exemplary figure, a symbol of their social status. They envisioned a future where Cove would attend the most prestigious schools, excel academically, become a renowned pianist, and eventually marry a woman of their choosing from a similar background.

However, Cove struggled to meet these expectations. Despite his best efforts, academic success eluded him. He found himself consistently teetering on the brink of failure in every class. Aware of his family's influence and status, teachers hesitated to fail him outright, perpetuating a sense of injustice among his peers. Cove became aware of his advantages, feeling unworthy of the successes that were handed to him rather than earned. This growing disparity between his achievements and his true capabilities fostered a sense of disappointment within himself.

Moreover, Cove's piano skills, which were meant to be a source of pride and accomplishment, proved to be mediocre at best. The lack of attraction towards girls further heightened his sense of isolation and disconnection from his own identity.

His parents, disillusioned by Cove's perceived lack of intelligence and the gap between their expectations and his performance, began to overlook him. They rarely spoke of him unless prompted by their wealthy acquaintances, as if he had become an insignificant afterthought in their lives. This disregard deepened Cove's feelings of being unlovable and inadequate. He only wished for his parents to accept him, but he felt undeserving of their affection.

Deep within his heart, the ember of a primal longing flickered—an innate, age-old yearning to be loved for simply being who he was.

Cove, still half submerged in the depths of his thoughts, slowly regained consciousness. He had fallen asleep looking at the most beautiful boy he had ever laid eyes on, and it had been the most tranquil slumber he had experienced in a long while. But now, as he opened his eyes, he realized Sage was no longer in the bed beside him. Scanning the room, he spotted him huddled up in one of the big closets, seemingly engrossed in a search.

"Hey, Sage", Cove murmured softly, unable to contain the smile that spread across his face.

Sage glanced over at Cove and reciprocated the smile. "Did I wake you up?" he inquired in his melodious voice.

Cove shook his head. "Not at all", he replied. "Why aren't you sleeping?"

Sage gestured toward the clothes within the closet. "I woke up feeling a bit chilly", he explained. "I was searching for some sweatpants, or something like that. I think I won't live long with bare legs in this frosty freezer", he added, a playful lilt in his voice.

Cove couldn't help but find his gaze drawn irresistibly to the graceful contours of Sage's slender, elongated legs. A surge of heat flooded his cheeks, as a mixture of shyness and embarrassment washed over him. Hastily, he sat up, attempting to avert his eyes. The room suddenly felt warmer.

Feeling deeply embarrassed, Cove made an attempt to alleviate the tension. "I'd like to change my clothes as well, but if I don't shower before, I'll probably have a mental breakdown", he said. "However, I didn't see any showers in the bathroom."

Sage's smile widened. "I think that in places like this, they are usually in a separate room, like a locker room", he explained, grabbing some clean clothes from the provided stash and approaching Cove. Extending a hand toward him, he spoke gently. "Shall we go and see?"

Cove found himself staring directly at the legs that nearly made him die earlier, unable to meet Sage's gaze. In that moment, a realization dawned upon him—an unmistakable recognition that this must be the very essence of what is often referred to as falling in love.

Summoning the tiniest bit of courage, he reached out and took Sage's reassuring hand.

A bit earlier, in the main room, Raven and Nima diligently completed their chores. Nima carefully organized the bookshelf, ensuring each book found its rightful place. Amidst the process, his eyes caught sight of a copy of "White Nights" by Fyodor Dostoevsky. Intrigued by the title, he gently picked it up, placing the book on his lap.

Meanwhile, Raven tackled the task of putting the chairs back in their designated spots and washing the remaining dishes. Throughout his work, his attention kept drifting towards Nima, who was engrossed in the pages of "White Nights."

As Nima delved deeper into the world of old-fashioned wonder conjured by the book, his tender heart trembled with each turn of the page. The narrative wove its magic, transporting him to the dreamy streets of 1850s Saint Petersburg, where he could almost feel the cold air on his cheeks and hear the echoes of footsteps on cobblestone roads. Lost in the embrace of the enchanting tale, he momentarily surrendered himself to the whims of fiction.

However, the weight of his drowsiness soon descended upon him. Raven's stern voice pierced through his daydreams, gently shaking him from his reverie. "Let's get you to sleep, twig. You're about to fall off the chair", Raven spoke with a mixture of concern and authoritativeness.

Acknowledging the wisdom in Raven's words, Nima nodded in agreement. He turned to Raven, a faint smile dancing on his lips. "Could you please hand me my crutches?"

Raven scoffed, taking hold of Nima's crutches with one hand while attempting to lift him with the other. Nima hesitated.

"I can use the crutches, you know", Nima said with an embarassed chuckle.

With a touch of weariness evident on his face, Raven insisted. "Oh, come on. It's easier this way." Nima relented, realizing Raven's exhaustion, and allowed himself to be lifted, holding the book and wrapping his arms around Raven's neck for support.

In that position, Nima beheld the beauty concealed within Raven's piercing icy eyes. His pale skin exuded a subtle charm, complemented by his lips, which carried a delicate hint of rosy red. Raven's angular face told tales of unknown adventures, leaving Nima curious about the depths of his experiences. Yet, despite the enigmatic air surrounding him, Raven remained a young boy, and Nima could now see that through the firmness of his soul.

As Raven swung open the bedroom door, his piercing gaze fell upon Cove and Sage, their hands clasped tightly, one of them still sitting on the disheveled bed. Cove's disarrayed hair and flushed face betrayed the scene's implications.

Meeting Raven's unwavering eyes, Cove's heart raced as he scrambled to explain. "I-It's not what it seems!" he stammered, his voice filled with desperation. Nima, taken aback, exchanged a bewildered glance with Sage.

"I don't care", Raven dismissed him curtly, his voice devoid of emotion. "Don't talk to me."

Sage shook his head slightly, looking at Nima, wearing a gentle smile. Then he exited the room, leaving Cove to hurriedly shuffle away, his gaze firmly fixed on the ground, drowning in mortification.

When Sage and Cove exited the room, shutting the door behind them, with utmost care Raven settled Nima onto the nearest unoccupied bed, placing his crutches within reach. He gently draped the covers over Nima's form before lying onto the adjacent bed. After a brief contemplation, he got up again, pushed the two beds closer together, and reclined upon his own.

Confusion etched across Nima's face as he spoke up. "What are you doing?" he asked, his voice tinged with surprise.

Raven's tone remained stern as he replied, avoiding direct eye contact. "What if you roll off while you sleep?"

Nima furrowed his brow, a trace of offense coloring his response. "First of all, my legs are paralyzed, so I won't fall. I can't move, that's the whole point", he retorted, his tone carrying a hint of frustration. "And secondly, I'm not a toddler, contrary to what you seem to believe", he concluded. "There's no need to treat me like this."

"Let's just go to sleep, okay, twig?" Raven's voice resonated in the room, devoid of any discernible emotion.

Nima's face reflected a fleeting sense of disappointment, his features contorting slightly. But as seconds passed, the disappointment morphed into curiosity that danced in his eyes and curved his lips.

"Hey, Raven, do you think they were actually—"

"I don't care", came Raven's swift reply, his eyes shut.

Nima's frown deepened, etching lines of frustration onto his face. "You're so annoying!" he exclaimed, the words carrying a tinge of exasperation. He pulled the blanket over his head, shutting out the outside world, closing his eyes, and burying his frustrations beneath its comforting embrace.