All Chapters of Fifty Shades Of Him: Chapter 21 - Chapter 30

The campus was nearly unrecognizable without its noise. The snow had buried everything, the benches, bike racks, the half-dead shrubs by the science building under a clean, heavy silence. Every dorm window was dark except his. Sudan’s light spilled weakly across the room, a dull gold circle fighting off the gray.He dropped his duffel just inside the door and stood there, still wearing his coat. The silence pressed in, too complete. Usually, he liked quiet because it meant control.No one asking questions, no one expecting warmth he couldn’t give but tonight, the quiet didn’t feel like peace. It felt like punishment.He moved stiffly, setting things down one by one, the jacket over the chair, the scarf across the desk, his gloves beside the cold coffee mug from the day he’d left. He hadn’t thought the room would still smell faintly of him, of coffee and detergent. It made him pause, like he’d walked into a version of himself he wasn’t ready to meet again.He sat on the bed. The spri

The fight ended the way they usually did, with Sudan flat on his back, ribs screaming, blood humming in his ears. The ring lights above him blurred into streaks. He blinked until the faces hovering overhead came back into focus, Rico shouting for ice, the ref waving off the crowd. Someone was laughing. Someone else was yelling about money.Sudan rolled onto his side, spat red onto the mat, and forced himself to stand. The room tilted once, steadied. His knuckles were raw, skin split and sticky. He flexed his fingers. The pain grounded him, the same way it always did.“Another loss,” Rico said, grinning like it didn’t matter. He clapped Sudan on the shoulder, ignoring how he flinched. “You’re getting famous, man. Mystery Fighter with a death wish.”Sudan didn’t answer. He just grabbed his hoodie and ducked out of the ring. The noise of the gym followed him, a mix of cheers, jeers, and the metallic thud of the next match starting.Outside, the night was freezing. His breath rose in whi

The road stretched out ahead, a silver ribbon swallowed by snow. Headlights carved tunnels through the white, the hum of tires the only sound between them. The city had faded miles ago, replaced by endless pine and dark highways.Zach kept both hands on the wheel, eyes fixed forward. The heater hummed softly, filling the silence Sudan refused to break.He looked wrecked. Even in the dim glow of the dashboard, Zach could see the bruises, the swelling around his jaw, the half-dried blood at the corner of his mouth. His hoodie was torn at the sleeve and the knuckles peeking through the tape were raw and purple.He hadn’t said a word since getting into the car. Just sat there, shoulders hunched, staring out the window like he was still fighting ghosts in his head.Zach wanted to say something but every sentence that formed in his mind felt too fragile to survive the weight in the air. Ten miles passed before he tried anyway.“You hungry?” he asked, voice low. Sudan didn’t move.“There’s

Sudan woke slowly, like rising from deep water. For a moment, the world was just warmth and a faint hum, the wind against the window, the low throb of distant pipes in the building. His body felt heavy, pulled down by exhaustion so thick it felt like it had seeped into his bones. He lay still, eyes closed, letting the quiet seep into him.It had been days since he’d felt quiet. Then the memories flooded in. The car ride. Zach’s hands on the wheel. The snow swallowing the road. The fight. All the fights.Sudan’s breath caught. His eyes opened. Zach was still there.He sat propped against the headboard, hoodie rumpled, head tilted slightly like he’d dozed off without meaning to. One of his hands rested loosely on the blanket, inches away from Sudan’s arm. He looked exhausted but he hadn’t moved from his spot.He’d stayed all night. The impact of that settled in Sudan’s chest like a bruise with a pulse.Zach blinked awake at the movement. “Hey,” he murmured, voice rough with sleep. “Mo

Sudan woke for the second time that day, and this time the world didn’t feel soft or slow. It felt… unfamiliar.Warm.Quiet.Safe.He blinked into the hazy afternoon light, disoriented for a moment by the weight against his shoulder. It wasn’t until he shifted slightly that he realized something or someone was leaning on him.Zach.Asleep.Sudan’s breath stilled.Zach’s head rested lightly against him, his hair brushing Sudan’s jaw, his arms loose at his sides like he wasn’t guarding a single part of himself. Sudan had seen him sleep before, during all-nighters, movie nights, accidental naps but never like this. Never on him.Sudan stared at the window instead, trying to control the sudden, terrifying heat climbing up his neck. He wasn’t used to warmth without cost. He wasn’t used to comfort without debt. And yet here Zach was giving it freely, like it didn’t break him to do it.Like it didn’t break Sudan to receive it.Carefully, slowly, Sudan eased out from under him, adjusting Z