Novels by ROSE MARY

The fire had burned very low by the time they finished sorting the last box. Papers covered the coffee table in careful stacks—bank records, emails, old photographs, handwritten notes from people Julian’s father had once destroyed. Julian sat cross-legged on the floor, rubbing his eyes. Sebastian watched him from the couch, the orange glow of the dying fire painting soft shadows across Julian’s face. “You should get some sleep,” Sebastian said quietly. Julian shook his head. “Not yet.” He looked smaller in the firelight, shoulders curved like the weight of ten years had finally settled on them. Sebastian slid off the couch and sat beside him on the rug, their knees touching. “Talk to me,” Sebastian said, the same words he’d used that morning. This time they felt heavier. Julian stared at the flames for a long moment. When he finally spoke, his voice was rough. “I keep thinking about the day my mom left him. I was fifteen. She packed one suitcase and told me to choose between he

Julian didn’t sleep that night. He lay on his back in the dark cabin, staring at the ceiling beams while Richard’s last words kept circling in his head like a bad replay on loop. The threat had sunk its teeth in and wouldn’t let go. Every time he closed his eyes he saw his father’s cold smile, heard the quiet promise underneath the words. Beside him Sebastian slept deeply, chest rising and falling in the slow rhythm of exhaustion. The confrontation had drained them both, but Sebastian had crashed hard once the adrenaline wore off. Julian didn’t wake him. He just lay there, alone with the fear that pressed heavy on his ribs. When the first pale light finally crept through the curtains, Julian gave up. He eased out of bed, careful not to jostle the mattress, and limped into the kitchen. He made coffee. Sat at the small table by the window. Stared at the snow. --- Sebastian found him there an hour later. Julian hadn’t moved. His mug sat cold in front of him, untouched. Sebastian p

The second day of the youth clinic ended early. Snow had started falling again around noon, thick and fast, turning the ice rough and the air white. The coordinator made the call before lunch. Buses arrived within the hour. Parents bundled their kids into coats and boots and hurried them onto the warm vehicles. Sebastian stood by the rink, watching the last bus pull away. Julian limped up beside him, his knee stiff from the cold. "That is it," Julian said. "Last day of clinic." "Tomorrow we go home." Julian nodded. Neither of them moved. The snow fell around them, soft and silent. The mountains disappeared into grey. The cabin was a dark shape through the white. "We should go inside," Sebastian said. "In a minute." They stood together, shoulder to shoulder, watching the snow bury the rink. The wor

The morning came clear and cold.Sebastian woke to sunlight streaming through the curtains, the first bright sun they had seen in days. The snow had stopped. The sky was a deep, sharp blue. The mountains outside sparkled like they had been dusted with diamonds.Julian was still asleep, his head on Sebastian's chest, his hand curled against Sebastian's stomach. His face was peaceful, the lines of worry smoothed away. Sebastian watched him for a long time, not wanting to move, not wanting to break the quiet.But Julian's eyes fluttered open. He blinked up at Sebastian and smiled."Morning," Julian said."Morning. You slept.""I slept. Really slept. No dreams."Sebastian kissed his forehead. "Good."Julian stretched, careful of his knee. "What time is it?""Late. The sun is already up."Julian sat up and looked at the window. "The clinic. The kids are probably already on their way."Sebastian groaned. "I forgot about the kids.""You cannot forget about the kids. They are the whole reason

The fire had died to embers.Sebastian was asleep on the couch, Julian curled against his side, their legs tangled under a thick wool blanket. The cabin was dark and cold, the only light the faint orange glow from the fireplace. The wind had stopped. The snow had stopped. The world outside was silent and white.But inside, Julian was not sleeping.He had been dreaming. Not the good dreams, the ones about the lake and the stars and Sebastian's hand in his. The other dreams. The ones where he was back in the mansion, small and scared, his father's voice echoing down the hall. You are weak. You are nothing. You will never be enough.Julian gasped and woke up.His face was wet. His chest was heaving. He was crying, silent tears streaming down his cheeks, his body shaking. He tried to sit up, to move away, to hide. But Sebastian's arm was around him, heavy and warm.Sebastian stirred."Julian?"Julian wiped his face with the back of his hand. "Nothing. Go back to sleep."But Sebastian was

Sebastian woke to grey light filtering through the curtains and the weight of Julian's head on his shoulder. He did not move. He lay there, staring at the ceiling, feeling the slow rhythm of Julian's breathing. Their hands were still intertwined from the night before. The pillows that were supposed to be a barrier were scattered on the floor. Julian shifted, made a soft sound, and his eyes opened. For a moment, neither of them spoke. Julian looked at Sebastian, and Sebastian looked back. The morning light made Julian's face look younger, softer. The dark circles under his eyes were still there, but they seemed less heavy. "Morning," Julian said. His voice was rough with sleep. "Morning." Julian sat up slowly, careful of his knee. He looked at the pillows on the floor, then at Sebastian. "The pillows fell," Julian said. "They did." "We should probably put them back." "Probably." Neither of them moved. Sebastian reached out and tucked a strand of hair behind Julian's ear. Ju