Shattered Bonds

EPISODE 22

When they finally got into their room, Tristan made his way to the bathroom, needing a moment to calm himself down—both his racing heart and the uncomfortable hardness that refused to subside. The way Drake had been moving against him on the dance floor, the way his body responded so naturally to Tristan’s touch, it was making him lose control. He turned on the faucet, splashing cold water onto his face, hoping it would help clear his thoughts. His reflection in the mirror mocked him.

“Get a grip, Tristan,” he muttered to himself, running a hand through his damp hair. “You can’t keep thinking about him like this.”

On the other side of the room, Drake sat on the bed, still dazed. His mind raced, trying to make sense of what had just happened. Tristan had been in such a good mood earlier, but suddenly, everything changed. The possessiveness, the abrupt decision to leave, the intensity in his gaze—it was all confusing. Was Tristan upset? Was he jealous? But why? Did it mean something?

Drake let out a frustrated sigh, running his fingers through his hair. He needed to ask Tristan directly, but the moment Tristan stepped out of the bathroom, towel draped around his neck, he was greeted by the sight of Drake sitting there, lost in thought.

“A penny for your thoughts?” Tristan joked, trying to sound lighthearted, though his voice betrayed a slight nervousness.

Drake snapped out of his thoughts, looking up at Tristan with a mix of concern and hesitation. “Are you okay? You seemed... off back at the club.”

Tristan forced a small smile. “I’m fine, just tired. You should go freshen up.”

Drake studied his face for a moment, clearly unconvinced, but he didn’t push further. He nodded and stood up, heading toward the bathroom. Tristan watched him go, sighing softly before shaking his head at himself. He needed to control his emotions.

When Drake finished his shower and returned, Tristan took his turn, trying to use the water to wash away his thoughts. But no matter what he did, one truth remained—he was hopelessly in love with Drake, and it was driving him insane.

Once they were both settled into bed, Tristan, being the touchy one, instinctively pulled Drake close, wrapping his arms around him. Drake let out a small laugh. “Still a cuddle monster, huh?”

Tristan chuckled but didn’t reply. His thoughts were elsewhere. As he lay there, his arms securely around Drake, the emotions he had been suppressing all this time came flooding in. The words slipped past his lips in a whisper, so quiet that even he barely heard them.

“I’ve really fallen in love with you, Drake... and it’s driving me nuts.”

But Drake was already fast asleep and didn’t hear a thing. Tristan stared at the ceiling, his heart heavy. He wanted to tell him, but fear held him back. His previous relationship with Carl had left him broken, afraid of another rejection, afraid that whatever Drake was feeling for him might just be fleeting. What if Drake fell for someone else? What if he got tired of him? What if this wasn’t real?

His mind was in chaos, and no matter how tight he held Drake, the doubts wouldn’t leave him.

---

The next morning marked their departure day. They took turns driving until they finally arrived home. Since it was Tristan’s car, he first dropped off Nathan, who then took Carl home, before heading to Drake’s house.

As they pulled up in front of Drake’s place, the air between them grew thick with unspoken words. Drake turned to Tristan with a small smile, though his heart felt heavier than it should.

“Thanks for inviting me on this trip, Tristan,” Drake said softly. “I really had the best time of my life.”

Tristan looked at him, his heart pounding. He should just say goodbye and leave. He should just smile and act normal. But before he knew it, his body moved on its own.

He kissed him.

It was brief, barely a second, but it was real. The moment their lips met, Tristan felt a spark so intense it shook him to his core. But realization hit him just as fast, and panic took over. He pulled away abruptly, eyes wide in horror.

Drake, equally shocked, sat frozen, his mind unable to process what had just happened.

“I—” Tristan couldn’t even finish his sentence. Instead, he rushed to his car and sped off, leaving behind a stunned and speechless Drake.

Drake slowly brought his fingers to his lips, his heart pounding wildly. Did that really just happen? Did Tristan Blackwood just kiss him? He felt like his brain short-circuited. A giddy laugh bubbled out of him as he rushed inside, his cheeks burning. His mother, seeing his flushed face and the dreamy look in his eyes, raised a brow.

“What’s gotten into you?” she asked, amused.

“Nothing! I mean—Tristan kissed me!” Drake blurted out, unable to contain his excitement.

His mother’s eyes widened in surprise before a warm smile formed on her lips. “Oh?”

Drake, still blushing, ran up to his room, unable to contain his emotions. He danced around his room, whispering over and over, “Tristan Blackwood kissed me.”

But then, a dark thought crept in. What if Tristan didn’t mean it? What if it was a mistake? What if he was just caught in the moment?

His excitement deflated instantly, and his heart sank.

---

Meanwhile, Tristan arrived home, greeted by his parents, but he barely acknowledged them as he stormed straight to his room. He collapsed onto his bed and let out a frustrated groan, burying his face into his pillow.

“What the hell did I just do?” he muttered, gripping the sheets.

He hadn’t meant to do that. He hadn’t meant to kiss him. But when Drake looked at him with those warm eyes, with that smile that made his chest tighten, he lost control.

Fear gnawed at him. What if Drake thought it was a mistake? What if he distanced himself now? What if he fell for someone else? What if history repeated itself, just like it did with Carl?

His mind was filled with endless ‘what ifs.’

---

Two days passed, and Tristan still hadn’t reached out to Drake. He ignored his texts, let his calls go unanswered. He didn’t know what to say. He was terrified.

Drake, on the other hand, was growing more anxious by the hour. He kept checking his phone, hoping—praying—that Tristan would reply. But nothing. And the more time passed, the more convinced he became that his fears were right.

“He regrets it,” Drake whispered to himself, his chest aching.

Finally, he decided to take action. He went to Tristan’s house, only for Tristan’s mother to inform him that Tristan had ‘traveled to visit his maternal home and wouldn’t be back until after summer.’

Drake forced a smile and nodded, but deep down, he felt like he had just been punched in the gut. He walked home, feeling empty, defeated. As soon as he got inside, he collapsed onto the couch, staring at the ceiling. He didn’t even realize when he fell asleep until his mother gently shook him awake.

“What’s wrong, sweetheart?” she asked, concern lacing her voice.

Drake hesitated before finally confessing everything—the dance, the jealousy, the kiss, the silence. As he spoke, his voice wavered, and before he could stop them, tears slipped down his cheeks.

His mother sighed, pulling him into a comforting hug. “Give him space, honey. Tristan is probably struggling to come to terms with what he feels for you. Just be patient.”

Drake nodded against her shoulder, but deep inside, he wasn’t sure if patience would be enough to ease the pain of being ignored by the one he had fallen in love with.