Page 151 of The Art of Breathing (The Seafare Chronicles 3)

---

Shit. Of course I do.

I probably never stopped.

Peachy. This is just fucking peachy. Goddammit.

I walk into the bar. The dance floor is packed.

I can see movement up on the balcony.

Maybe he’s up there.

I turn the corner.

He’s standing there, leaning against a wall. Talking to some guy. I watch as he leans in and says something. The other guy laughs. Dom smiles, and I swear I’m back in that hallway, I’m fifteen years old, and I have a present in my hands I want to give him. I just want him to see the story I made him, to show him how I see us, and maybe, just maybe he’ll look at me and say, There you are. Right in front of me this whole time. I don’t know why I’ve never seen it before. But I do now, and I love you. I love you too.

The guy reaches up and touches his arm. A caress that’s more than friendly.

It’s what I deserve, really. For taking this long. I should go back outside. Whatever will be will be. Gay, bi, whatever. He’s my friend, and that’s all that matters. I just want him to be happy.

I turn to leave.

An explosion of laughter behind me.

He looks over.

Our gazes lock.

I can’t breathe. The earth quakes b

eneath my feet. Everything I’m feeling is splayed across my face, I know, and I can do nothing to hide it. The anger. The jealousy. The fear. Rage and desire, amassing as one.

He stands up straight.

Run, I tell myself. Please, run.

Run, it whispers. Please, run.

But I can’t. I can’t move. Breathe, Kid. It’s Bear. I can hear him. All other sounds fade away to the voice of my brother.

Just breathe.

Dom takes a step toward me, leaving the stranger behind.

Inhale, Bear says. You can do this. Inhale.

I breathe in. I almost don’t make it. But I do.

Good. Hold.

I can do this. I know I can do this.

One.

Dominic pushes past the bar.

Two.

Someone bumps my arm.

---