THREAD OF DESIRE

Chapter 8 – Between Truth and Silence

POV: Lucian Mareis

The words had slipped out before he could stop them.

What if I’m not who you think I am?

The look on Nareth’s face nearly destroyed him. Shock, hurt, confusion—emotions swirling like broken glass. Lucian wanted to reach across the table, grip his friend’s hand, tell him everything.

That it wasn’t Lucian Mareis sitting here. That his soul had been torn from his body, forced into the vessel of the one he’d called a friend. That every word, every breath, every heartbeat since the accident had been borrowed.

But how could he?

Who would believe something so impossible?

Lucian forced a laugh, brittle as cracked porcelain. “I just meant… after the accident. I don’t feel like myself sometimes. Guess I’m still shaken up.”

Nareth’s eyes lingered on him, unblinking, unconvinced.

Lucian gripped the mug tighter. His chest burned with the weight of the secret. Each day it grew heavier, pressing against him until he thought it would split him apart.

He wasn’t afraid of dying. He was afraid of losing Nareth for good—afraid that the truth would be the blade that cut the last thread holding them together.

So he swallowed it. Buried it. And smiled like it didn’t hurt.

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POV: Nareth Sol

Lucian was lying.

Nareth knew it the way he knew the rhythm of his own heartbeat. His best friend had always been reckless, careless with words, but never with him. Not like this.

He studied Lucian across the table, noticing every detail—the way his shoulders tensed when he laughed, the way his eyes darted away when the conversation pressed too close, the way his hands trembled when he thought no one was watching.

This wasn’t the Lucian he knew.

And the question—What if I’m not who you think I am?—kept echoing in his skull, refusing to quiet.

He wanted to demand answers, to shake the truth out of him. But something held him back. Something fragile in Lucian’s expression that whispered: if you push, he’ll break.

So Nareth leaned back in his chair, hiding the storm inside.

“Yeah,” he said finally, voice low. “You’re not yourself. Not yet.”

Lucian’s shoulders eased, relief flickering across his face. But Nareth didn’t share it.

Because deep down, he wasn’t sure if Lucian would ever be himself again.

And the terrifying part?

Nareth wasn’t sure he wanted the truth.