Chapter 4- Defeat unlike any other

The room was cold.

Not the kind of cold that came from the ink rain outside, not the kind that could be chased away with blankets or a warm fire.

This was a different kind of cold. A gray cold. A lifeless, empty cold.

The wooden walls were bare, untouched, the knots in the wood forming strange shapes in the dim light. The bed, tucked against the far wall, was neat, undisturbed. Edwards’ bed. Not his.

Ydoc lay curled on the floor, his knees drawn close to his chest, his arms wrapped tight around himself. The hard planks beneath him dug into his bones, but the ache of his body was nothing compared to the ache in his mind.

He squeezed his eyes shut. Tried to breathe. Tried to focus on anything other than the crushing weight in his chest.

But it was impossible.

Because the moment he was alone, the thoughts came.

Spinning. Circling. Gnawing.

Who was Lucy?

Why was he here?

Why couldn’t he remember?

His hands clutched at his arms, fingers digging into his skin. Edwards had said it so casually, so easily. As if it had always been true. You and Lucy used to date. You planned this together.

But that wasn’t real.

…Was it?

Ydoc’s breath hitched, his fingers curling tighter. His mind felt like a broken mirror—cracked and scattered, fragments of something he couldn’t piece together no matter how hard he tried.

And Edwards…

Why did he hate him?

That thought hurt worse than all the others.

What had Ydoc done? What had he said? Why did he always feel like he was one wrong step away from falling, falling, falling—

A sob choked in his throat, but he swallowed it down, squeezing his arms tighter.

He needed Edwards.

He needed him to not hate him.

The thought came in a whisper, creeping into his mind like a slow, crawling sickness.

I don’t want him to hate me.

He couldn’t handle it—not his cold silence, not his sharp words, not the way he looked at him, like he was something pathetic.

Edwards had always been the only person in his world. The only voice, the only warmth, the only thing tethering him to something.

And Ydoc—Ydoc needed that warmth.

Even if it burned him.

Even if it hurt.

Tears slipped silently down his cheeks. His body trembled as he curled in tighter, his breath shuddering in the quiet.

Please… just hug me again.

Just once more.

The door creaked open.

Ydoc tensed, his body stiffening instinctively. He hadn’t even heard Edwards come up the stairs. But now he was there, standing in the doorway, his tall frame casting a shadow over the dimly lit room.

Ydoc couldn’t bring himself to look up. Couldn’t bring himself to see whatever expression was on Edwards’ face.

Instead, he curled in tighter, like a wounded animal.

And in the smallest, weakest voice—barely more than a breath—he whimpered:

“…I’m sorry.”

The silence that followed was suffocating.

“…I’ll go.”

And there it was. The final defeat.

Not tomorrow. Not next time.

He would go. Because Edwards wanted him to.

Because Edwards was right.

The truth didn’t matter.

His memories didn’t matter.

Only Edwards.

Only keeping him happy.

Only keeping him close.