Adrian stepped out of the car and looked up at the house in front of them. Isaac’s house—once bright, lively, filled with warmth and the quiet laughter of a man who loved deeply—now looked dim and sunken. The windows were drawn, the garden untended, the door unmoved for days.
Adrian’s eyes were swollen, his lashes clumped with dried tears he had shed just that morning. It had already been a week since Lucas’s death, but ti seed to have folded in on itself. It felt like yesterday. It felt like forever.
Beside him, Ethan gently closed the car door and ca to stand quietly by Adrian’s side. Though Ethan had recently recovered from his own injuries, the mont he heard of Lucas’s death, he hadn’t hesitated. He didn’t say much—but Adrian could see it. The pain in his eyes, the subtle clench of his fists, the deep breath he took before walking forward.
Adrian rang the doorbell, his finger trembling slightly. The sound echoed inside the house, empty and dull.
For a long mont, nothing happened.
Then ca slow, dragging footsteps. The door creaked open.
Isaac stood before them.
He looked like a shadow of himself. His black hair was unkempt, his eyes red-rimd and puffy. His usually sharp features were dulled with exhaustion, grief etched into every corner of his face. He had lost weight. There was a slight tremble in his hands.
When he saw Adrian, his lips parted slightly—but no words ca.
Adrian couldn’t hold back anymore.
"Brother..." he whispered.
And then he lunged forward, wrapping his arms tightly around Isaac.
Isaac froze for a mont, then broke—his arms gripped Adrian tightly, his body shaking as he buried his face into his younger brother’s shoulder. Tears spilled freely, raw and without restraint. He wept like a man who had finally been allowed to fall apart.
"I’m here," Adrian whispered again and again, gently patting his brother’s back, tears running down his own cheeks. "I’m here..."
"I didn’t... I didn’t even marry him..." Isaac choked, his voice cracking. "We were going to adopt... we were going to have kids, Adrian. We were going to live together until we turned grey. I promised him we’d travel—he always wanted to see the sea in Greece, and I told him we’d go when we had ti. But I—"
His breath caught, and he broke down again, almost collapsing in Adrian’s arms.
Adrian held him tighter, his own tears mingling with Isaac’s. "You still have us, Isaac. You still have ... We all loved him. He loved you more than anything."
Isaac pulled away just enough to look at his brother, his eyes wild with grief. "He never said it, Adrian. He never said he loved . He showed it—every day—but I wanted to hear it. I was so afraid I’d lose him before I heard it, and now—" His voice shattered, and his head dropped against Adrian’s shoulder again.
Behind them, Ethan stood still, shoulders rigid.
He was trying to be strong. For Adrian. For Isaac. For himself.
But his hand was trembling.
Lucas was his friend. A dear one.
He had known Lucas longer than anyone, had seen his cold indifference lt only in front of Isaac. He had teased him, fought with him, and relied on him like family.
Now he was gone.
Ethan raised a hand to his face quickly, turning his back just enough so they wouldn’t see.
He wiped the tears away.
But they ca again. And again.
He bit his lip and looked at the sky, as if begging it to make sense of this pain.
Adrian turned slightly and saw Ethan’s back.
He could see the way Ethan’s shoulders trembled.
He didn’t say anything. Instead, he reached out a hand, silently intertwining his fingers with Ethan’s behind him. Ethan gripped it like a lifeline.
Inside, Isaac finally let go of Adrian and took a shaky step back.
"Co in," he said hoarsely.
They entered the house.
It was too quiet.
Too clean in the wrong places, too ssy in others. Lucas’s favorite blanket was still folded on the couch. His slippers were still by the door. A coffee mug sat on the counter, untouched for a week.
The air was filled with silence.
Isaac led them to the living room, where frad photos still sat on the shelves. One showed him and Lucas smiling with windblown hair on a coastal road trip. Another was from the clinic’s annual event—Lucas with a stethoscope around his neck, giving a rare small smile as Isaac hugged him from behind.
"He didn’t even like photos," Isaac murmured. "He’d grumble every ti I tried to take one. But now I’m glad I did."
Adrian sat beside him, his hand resting on Isaac’s back.
"He loved you. You know he did," Adrian said quietly.
Isaac looked down at his lap, his eyes glassy. "I know. But it’s not enough. I wanted ti. We were supposed to have ti..."
Ethan sat across from them, his expression still and solemn. His eyes were red, but his posture remained composed. He looked at Isaac with a sorrow that ran deep, even if he didn’t show it the sa way.
"We always think we’ll have more ti," Ethan said softly. "But life doesn’t care about our plans."
Isaac turned his face away, his lips trembling. "I wasn’t there to protect him..."
"You loved him," Ethan said. "That was the only protection he ever asked for."
Isaac stood suddenly, walking over to a drawer. He pulled it open and took out a small box. Inside was a pair of rings.
"He bought them," Isaac whispered. "A month ago. He never told ... I found them after he died."
He took one of the rings and stared at it like it held the whole world. "He was going to propose, or maybe just give it to casually like he always did—half-grumbling, half-blushing. That was him. That was Lucas..."
Adrian stood and gently walked to his brother’s side. He wrapped his arm around him again, resting his head on Isaac’s shoulder.
"You can still wear it," he said softly.
Isaac looked at him, tears running freely. "I don’t know how to live without him..."
"You don’t have to know now," Adrian said. "Just... one breath at a ti."
Ethan stood, walking toward them, his steps slow but steady.
He put a hand on Isaac’s other shoulder, grounding him.
"You’re not alone," Ethan said. "You still have people who love you."
Isaac closed his eyes.
"I just want him back..." he whispered.
The silence stretched, heavy with emotion.
Adrian and Ethan didn’t say anything more.
They stood beside him, as the weight of loss settled like a storm cloud.
For that day—and perhaps many more to co—it was enough to simply be there. To grieve together.
To rember the man who had quietly loved, fiercely protected, and left behind a void no one else could ever fill.
--
The clouds hung low above the neighborhood, casting a quiet gray over the streets, as if even the sky mourned in silence. Yuin stood outside the modest townhouse where his elder brother Isaac now lived alone. In his hands was a covered tray, warm with the scent of ho — carefully cooked dishes Jesper had made that morning. Jesper, their father Cain’s beloved, hadn’t said much while preparing it, but the glimr in his eyes betrayed the worry he held for Isaac.
Yuin hesitated only briefly before ringing the bell.
The door opened monts later, and Adrian stood there. His face was pale, his silver eyes red-rimd, as if he had cried before answering. Seeing Yuin brought the tiniest flicker of sothing—maybe relief, maybe just distraction—but Adrian said nothing. He stepped aside.
"Co in, Yuin," Adrian said quietly, voice hoarse from mourning.
Yuin nodded, stepping over the threshold into the dimly lit house. The air inside was thick, not just with silence, but the kind of silence that hurt. The kind that wrapped itself around a person and pressed down on their soul.
Yuin found Isaac sitting on the couch, hunched over slightly, his head low. His normally pristine black hair was ruffled, as if he hadn’t combed it in days. Dark circles frad his eyes, and his lips were cracked from dehydration. Isaac looked up and saw him. Their eyes t, and a beat of sothing unspoken passed between them.
"Hey," Yuin said gently.
Isaac gave a tired nod. "Hey."
"I... Dad cooked," Yuin said, lifting the tray awkwardly like a peace offering. "I thought you might be too tired to cook for yourself."
Isaac blinked slowly and finally rose from the couch with sluggish movents. "Thanks."
They moved to the kitchen. Adrian followed behind silently, wiping at his face. Ethan was in the corner, seated with a cup of untouched tea, his eyes reflecting deep control. He was mourning in his own quiet way, his protective instincts stronger than his tears. He gave Yuin a small nod.
Yuin unpacked the tray and started placing the dishes on the counter.
"There’s chicken stew," he said, trying to make his tone light. "Dad made it with those weird star-shaped herbs he likes. You know, the ones that sll like citrus and dirt. He said they’re good for stress."
Isaac let out the ghost of a laugh, which died before it fully ford. "He still uses those?"
Yuin smiled softly. "Still swears by them."
There was also a bowl of soft lentils soaked in garlic broth, fluffy rice with herbs, and a small box of baked flatbread. Jesper had also packed a dish of ginger syrup-sweetened tofu pudding. He hadn’t said it aloud, but everyone knew it was Lucas’s favorite.
Isaac stared at it and then quickly looked away.
Yuin’s voice lowered. "He just wanted to help, even if it’s small. He... didn’t know what else to do."
Adrian moved to Isaac’s side, hand gently landing on his brother’s arm. "You don’t have to eat now. But maybe later. Just a little."
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