Chapter 36: After the Storm

The air in the chapel was still, caught between the softness of fading daylight and the quiet tension that clung to Ryan’s shoulders.

He sat beside Daniel in the pew, both of them leaning forward, elbows on knees, like two boys who had outgrown prayer but hadn’t yet outgrown hope.

Ryan exhaled. “What do you think happens now?”

Daniel glanced at him. “For Adrien?”

“No.” Ryan’s voice was calm, almost too calm. “For me. For us.”

The word us hung between them like a lit match small, dangerous, filled with possibilities.

Daniel didn’t answer right away. His hand brushed Ryan’s, not quite a touch, not quite an accident. “That depends on what you want.”

Ryan looked down at their hands. “I don’t know. I’ve spent so long just trying to survive everything Jake, then Adrien… I don’t even know who I am without looking over my shoulder.”

“That’s okay,” Daniel said. “You don’t have to know right now. But you get to find out.”

They sat like that for a while. Outside, the last of the sun sank behind the buildings, casting stained glass shadows over the floor.

Later, back in their dorm suite, Chris had made tea something warm and calming. He was wearing an old hoodie, sleeves pushed up, hovering in the kitchenette like a mother hen trying not to mother too much.

“How was the chapel?” Chris asked as he handed Ryan his cup.

“Still quiet. Still smells like candles and old guilt,” Ryan said with a tired smile. “It helped.”

Chris nodded. “Good. You deserve a little quiet.”

But peace didn’t come easy.

That night, Ryan dreamed again.

He stood in an empty lecture hall. It was silent. Then Adrien’s voice echoed from nowhere and everywhere at once.

“You said I was dangerous, Ryan… but you never looked in the mirror.”

Ryan jolted awake, breath caught in his throat.

Daniel was still on the couch. Chris had gone to sleep. Ryan sat there, heart pounding, wondering if healing ever came without relapses.

The next morning, campus was buzzing.

News of Adrien’s case had gone public. A leaked article quoted excerpts from his private journal twisted love letters, plans, fixation. Ryan’s name wasn’t directly mentioned, but anyone who knew could piece it together.

In the hallway, a few people stared. One girl whispered behind her hand. Someone else muttered, “Isn’t that the guy?”

Ryan kept walking, shoulders straight, spine steel. He passed through it all like a ghost, like someone who had survived too many fires to be burned by whispers.

Daniel found him later outside the library, sketching again. A habit Ryan hadn’t returned to in months.

“You’re drawing?” Daniel asked, surprised.

“Trying,” Ryan said. “It feels strange. Like I’m reclaiming a part of me that Adrien tried to erase.”

Daniel didn’t sit beside him this time. He just stood there, letting Ryan take up space, letting him be seen without being smothered.

“You’re brave, you know,” Daniel said.

“I’m exhausted,” Ryan answered. “But I think… maybe that’s a kind of bravery too.”

And for the first time in a long time, he believed it.