The Knock
524 Words
Ethan’s breath caught in his throat. The whisper slid under the door like smoke.
“Please, Ethan. Don’t shut me out.”
His pulse thundered. Every instinct screamed at him to stay quiet, stay hidden. But part of him—lonely, trembling—ached to believe it was Noah. To believe it was safe.
Slowly, he got out of bed and padded toward the door.
“…Noah?” His voice cracked.
A pause. Then, softly: “Yeah. It’s me.”
Relief and dread tangled inside him. He turned the lock and opened the door just a crack.
Noah stood there in the hall, shadows carving sharp lines across his face. His eyes searched Ethan’s with something raw, almost desperate.
“Why are you here?” Ethan whispered.
“I couldn’t sleep. Not after the way you left earlier.” Noah stepped closer, lowering his voice. “I don’t like seeing you this scared. You don’t deserve it.”
Ethan swallowed hard. He wanted to push him away. But when Noah’s hand brushed his, warmth surged through the fear.
“Let me stay,” Noah murmured. “Just for tonight. You won’t have to be alone.”
⸻
Ethan hesitated, then stepped aside. Noah slipped in, and the door shut with a soft click.
They sat on the bed, silence thick between them. Ethan’s walls trembled, threatening to fall. He thought of the photo, the letter, the words You belong to me.
“Noah…” His voice shook. “If someone’s watching me, and they see this—us—”
“Then let them watch,” Noah said firmly. “They don’t get to take this from you.”
Before Ethan could answer, Noah leaned in. His lips brushed Ethan’s again, softer this time, lingering. Ethan’s heart hammered. Fear and want twisted into one sharp ache.
The kiss deepened, Noah’s fingers curling against his jaw. For a moment, Ethan let himself forget the shadows pressing against the windows, the eyes he swore were always on him.
For a moment, it was just the warmth of someone who wanted him—not as a possession, but as a person.
⸻
When they finally pulled apart, Ethan’s forehead rested against Noah’s. His chest rose and fell quickly, his eyes stinging with unshed tears.
“I don’t know who I can trust,” he whispered.
Noah held his gaze. “Then start with me.”
⸻
Later, as Noah drifted asleep beside him, Ethan stared at the ceiling.
He wanted to believe it was safe. He wanted to believe Noah was the anchor he needed.
But across the room, something caught his eye.
A folded note on his desk. One that hadn’t been there before.
His blood froze.
He slid out of bed, trembling, and unfolded it.
*“I told you not to let him kiss you again.
Next time, I won’t just watch.”*
Ethan’s hand shook so violently the note nearly slipped from his grip. He turned toward Noah—peaceful, sleeping.
But all Ethan could think was one horrifying thought.
If Noah was here with me all night… who left the letter?
- Writer
