Page 25 of Knot My Type

“It’s not like I’m proud of it,” Kael mutters, though he’s smiling, that edge softening his usual intensity just a little.

“C’mon, man, I think you’re secretly proud!” Rhys counters.

“Okay, my turn!” Fen interjects, his tone unexpectedly playful as he leans forward.

I watch closely, intrigued. Fen usually maintains his stoic exterior, but there’s a playful glint in his eyes. “At summer camp, I thought I’d impress my crush by showing off my ‘survival skills.’ I built an 'unshakeable' shelter out of sticks and leaves, telling everyone I could survive in the wild for days.” He pauses, the tension climbing higher as he drops his gaze to the floor. “So of course, the kids decided to test my shelter by throwing rocks at it. It collapsed, and I was pelted with stones.”

“What? Oh no!” I exclaim, barely able to contain my laughter.

“I came out looking like a wounded animal,” he continues, a slight grin breaking through his serious demeanor. “And there she was, laughing instead of running to save me.”

“Guess that’s what you get for trying to impress someone!” I laugh, the warmth of the fire igniting a sense of closeness among us.

“You all had your embarrassing moments,” Kael amends, straightening up with a mischievous smile. “But mine stands the test of time. I’ll always be the fearless idiot who knocked on principal’s office after that. Talk about not knowing when to quit.”

Rhys bursts out laughing, his energy ignited by the banter. “Well, at least you weren’t alone! You had your friends cheering you on in your adventures of embarrassment.”

“So, what’s next?” I ask, feeling a flutter of anticipation as I sense the tension change between us, a current pulsing just beneath the surface.

“Seems like we all need to face our pasts together before we tackle the future,” Kael suggests, glancing at me with that familiar intensity that makes my heart race.

“Alright, let’s dig deeper then,” I say, a grin spreading across my face as I lean closer to him. “What about you, Kael—what’s the moment that defined you?”

He appears hesitant, uncertainty gliding through his gaze. And yet, I can see a spark of something deeper behind the façade.

“It started with the military,” he finally says, his voice steady yet filled with unspoken weight. “We were often placed in dangerous situations. There was one mission that went south, and the consequences were severe. I lost a fellow soldier that day, one who trusted me to lead.”

I want to reach out, to comfort him, but I hold back, letting him share what he feels ready to express.

“There’s a burden I carry from that day,” he continues, his voice steady despite the bitterness that lingers in it. “I was just supposed to be the leader. I still question if I made the right choices. That weight—it's part of my every decision, haunting me like a shadow, reminding me that leadership doesn’t just mean guiding others; it also means bearing the scars of those who follow you.”

There’s a heaviness in the room now as we sit in silence, absorbing the weight of his confession. I can see how Kael's fortitude is matched only by the vulnerability that lies beneath it, a fierce protectiveness entwined with unresolved guilt.

“I can’t imagine what that feels like,” I whisper softly, our eyes locking in a moments-long gaze filled with understanding. “To carry that burden every day. But you’re still here, and you’re doing your best.”

He nods, gratitude passes through his stormy eyes. “Sometimes it just feels insurmountable. I thought I was strong, but it took witnessing that pain to realize being strong doesn’t mean hiding from feelings. It means confronting them, accepting how they reshape you.”

Rhys tilts his head, a hint of tenderness breaking through his playful nature. “You’re not alone in that, Kael. We all have our battles—our scars. We carry each other through this, just like brothers in arms. No one has to go through this alone.”

Fen nods in support, his expression unwavering. “Strength in vulnerability is crucial. We’ve survived on our own, and it’s time we face this together, not just as individuals but as something more.”

As Kael meets their unwavering support with a sense of relief, I can see the tension beginning to ease—a shift from isolation to camaraderie as we embrace one another's imperfections and pasts.

I take a deep breath, feeling weightless as the burden of honesty wraps around us like a soft blanket. “Despite everything,” I begin, glancing at Kael, “I believe our stories are what bind us. We’re reshaping the meaning of family into something unconditional.”

He smiles then, and it’s a rare moment—a glimpse into the version of him that craves connection. “I guess I’ve been a little stubborn about that,” he admits. “But you’ve all shown me there’s a different way to survive. It’s about allowing ourselves to face those fears—together.”

Just then, a gust of wind rattles the windows, stirring the atmosphere outside. The storm rages on, but here in the cabin, we’ve created our sanctuary—a bubble of warmth and light against the frigid cold, echoing with laughter and the promise of possibilities.

I lean forward, resting my arms on my knees, wrapped in the moment. “So, what happens now?” I inquire, my heart racing with hope and anticipation.

Rhys smirks, having regained his playful demeanor. “Now, we acknowledge each other’s emotional scars and then wecelebrate like the family we are! And perhaps a second round of hot cocoa should be in order!”

Laughter erupts in response, and I can see the weight lifted—how stepping into our vulnerabilities has forged stronger connections.

“Okay, but what about dessert?” Fen adds thoughtfully, tilting his head as he shifts a little closer. “What else do we have to feed this celebration?”

“I’ve got a stash of cookies!” Rhys declares, diving back into the kitchen while I watch him, feeling the lively energy spread like wildfire.

---