Chapter 23:Damien
1549 Words
For the first time in years, Damien Laurent woke up smiling.
He reached across the bed instinctively.
Cold sheets.
His eyes opened.
“…Sky?”
Silence.
The space beside him was empty.
The pillow still carried Skylar’s scent—vanilla, cinnamon, and whatever shampoo he insisted on using—but the man himself was nowhere to be found.
Damien frowned.
He checked the time.
Seven in the morning.
Odd.
Skylar was always the first one awake, but he never left without making breakfast.
Damien threw on a sweater and walked downstairs.
The dining room was suspiciously quiet.
No smell of coffee.
No fresh pastries.
No humming from the kitchen.
Even Martha looked confused.
“Good morning, sir.”
“Where’s Sky?”
Martha blinked.
“…Master Sky left before sunrise.”
Damien stopped walking.
“He… left?”
“Yes.”
She smiled awkwardly.
“He looked…”
She searched for the word.
“…very red.”
Damien froze.
Very…
Red?
Then it clicked.
The kiss.
Last night.
Skylar had kissed him.
Then practically pretended to sleep afterward.
And now…
“…He ran away.”
Martha tilted her head.
“Pardon?”
A slow smile spread across Damien’s face.
“He ran away.”
His little husband…
Had actually fled the estate because he kissed him.
Damien laughed.
A deep, helpless laugh escaped him.
“He really is the same little boy.”
⸻
An hour later…
One sleek black car rolled through the iron gates of the Castillo Estate.
The guards greeted him immediately.
“Good morning, Boss.”
Damien nodded before driving further inside.
Then he saw him.
Skylar.
Standing in the middle of the enormous garden with a watering can in one hand.
His loose cream sweater moved gently with the morning breeze.
His long hair was tied carelessly.
He looked peaceful.
Beautiful.
Home.
Damien smiled.
Then Skylar looked up.
Their eyes met.
Skylar froze.
His eyes became impossibly wide.
“…Oh no.”
Damien could almost hear the thought from where he sat.
Skylar looked left.
Looked right.
Looked back at Damien.
Then—
He ran.
Actually ran.
Straight across the garden.
The watering can hit the grass.
Flowers were abandoned.
One gardener nearly dropped his rake.
Everyone watched as Skylar sprinted into the mansion.
Damien sighed dramatically.
“There he goes.”
One of the gardeners chuckled.
“He still runs from you, sir.”
Damien laughed.
“Apparently.”
⸻
Inside the mansion…
Don Castillo was enjoying his morning espresso.
He didn’t even look surprised when Damien walked in.
“Morning.”
“Morning.”
Don Castillo took one look at Damien.
Then burst into laughter.
“He ran, didn’t he?”
Damien rubbed the bridge of his nose.
“He saw my car.”
“And?”
“He fled.”
His father-in-law laughed so hard he nearly spilled his coffee.
“I raised such a dramatic son.”
Damien couldn’t help smiling.
“He hasn’t changed.”
“No.”
Don Castillo grinned.
“He used to climb trees to avoid you.”
“I remember.”
“He once hid inside a laundry basket.”
“I found him.”
“He cried.”
“I know.”
Both men laughed.
Don Castillo wiped tears from his eyes.
“Go upstairs.”
Damien looked toward the staircase.
“May I?”
The older man waved a dismissive hand.
“Son.”
His smile softened.
“You’re my son now.”
“My home is your home.”
“You don’t need permission to see your husband.”
Damien bowed his head respectfully.
“Thank you.”
⸻
Outside Skylar’s childhood bedroom…
Damien knocked gently.
“Sky?”
Silence.
Another knock.
“Baby…”
Nothing.
A third knock.
“Can I come in?”
A tiny voice floated through the door.
“…Okay.”
Damien smiled.
He opened it slowly.
The room looked almost untouched since Skylar had lived there.
Books.
Paintings.
A window overlooking the gardens.
And one enormous mountain of blankets sitting on the bed.
Only a few strands of chestnut hair poked out.
Damien folded his arms.
“So…”
The blanket didn’t move.
“I came all this way to speak to a duvet?”
Silence.
He walked closer.
Sat carefully on the edge of the mattress.
The blanket shuffled slightly.
“Sky.”
Nothing.
He gently poked the lump.
“…Are you alive?”
A tiny muffled sound.
“Mhm.”
Damien bit the inside of his cheek to stop himself laughing.
He reached out carefully and rubbed the blanket where he guessed Skylar’s shoulder was.
“Baby…”
His voice softened.
“Why did you leave this morning?”
Another long silence.
Then…
“…It’s embarrassing.”
Damien smiled.
“What is?”
“…”
“…I kissed you.”
His voice became even quieter.
“I kissed you first.”
Damien had never wanted to laugh and cry at the same time.
Instead, he stroked his shoulder through the blanket.
“So?”
Another pause.
“…People don’t just do that.”
“Husbands do.”
“…”
“You kissed your husband.”
“…”
“I kissed you back.”
The blanket shifted.
Very slowly.
Two amber eyes peeked out.
Skylar’s cheeks were scarlet.
“You… weren’t upset?”
Damien looked genuinely confused.
“Upset?”
Skylar nodded miserably.
“I thought maybe… I surprised you.”
“You did.”
“…”
“In the best possible way.”
Skylar blinked.
Damien smiled warmly.
“Sky.”
His voice was steady.
“My body is yours.”
“My heart is yours.”
“My life is yours.”
“If you want to hold my hand…”
“You can.”
“If you want to hug me…”
“You can.”
“If you want to kiss me…”
His smile deepened.
“You never have to ask.”
Skylar’s entire face disappeared under the blanket again.
“Oh no…”
Damien laughed quietly.
“I made it worse.”
A muffled groan answered him.
“You did.”
“I thought I was helping.”
“You weren’t.”
“I apologise.”
Another tiny laugh escaped from beneath the covers.
Victory.
After a minute, Skylar finally emerged properly.
His hair was a complete mess.
His face was still bright red.
“You really weren’t angry?”
Damien shook his head.
“I’ve wanted to kiss you for a very long time.”
Skylar stared.
“You… have?”
“For much longer than you realise.”
Skylar looked down at his hands.
“So…”
“…I don’t need to run away anymore?”
Damien chuckled.
“I’d appreciate it if you stopped making me chase you across gardens.”
Skylar covered his face.
“I wasn’t thinking.”
“I noticed.”
⸻
The rest of the day passed far more peacefully.
Don Castillo insisted they stay.
“No arguments.”
“You’ve barely been here an hour.”
So breakfast became brunch.
Brunch somehow became lunch.
Lunch turned into coffee on the terrace.
By late afternoon, they wandered through the gardens together.
The same gardens where, years ago, a tiny Skylar had hidden behind hedges every time Damien visited.
Skylar looked around and laughed softly.
“I used to think you were a monster.”
Damien raised an eyebrow.
“A monster?”
“You had those grey eyes.”
“I still have them.”
“I know.”
Skylar smiled shyly.
“They’re less scary now.”
“Oh?”
“They’re… softer.”
Damien’s heart nearly stopped.
Without thinking, he reached for Skylar’s hand.
Skylar looked at their joined fingers.
For one nervous second…
Damien expected him to pull away.
He didn’t.
Instead…
His fingers squeezed back.
Only a little.
But enough.
Enough for Damien’s heart to feel impossibly full.
As they continued walking, Don Castillo watched discreetly from the veranda.
“They’re holding hands.”
He smiled proudly.
“I don’t think Skylar even realises he’s smiling.”
Don Castillo looked at the young couple strolling beneath the trees.
“No.”
“He doesn’t.”
“But Damien does.”
“He thought to himself “
⸻
That evening, they returned home together.
For once, Skylar didn’t rush upstairs.
He stayed beside Damien while they drank tea in the sitting room, talking about nothing in particular.
It felt wonderfully ordinary.
Later, lying in bed, Damien glanced across the room.
The bedside lamp cast a warm glow over Skylar’s sleeping face.
His bracelet caught the light.
The same bracelet he had worn every day since their anniversary.
Damien smiled to himself.
There had been awards.
Business victories.
Power.
Wealth.
Respect.
Yet none of them compared to one simple truth.
Skylar no longer ran because he feared him.
Today, he had run because he was embarrassed.
It was progress.
Beautiful, awkward, wonderfully human progress.
And somehow…
That felt like the greatest victory Damien had ever earned.
With that thought warming his heart, he switched off the lamp, reached across the space between them to gently intertwine their fingers beneath the blanket, and drifted to sleep wearing the quiet smile that only Skylar seemed capable of giving him.
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