Chapter 137: Fragments

Chapter 137: Chapter 137: Fragments

"What was it?"

Nero expected Sebastian to close again.

The expectation was visible in the way his hand loosened around Sebastian’s wrist almost immediately, as though he had already prepared himself to let the subject go before Sebastian asked him to. He remained standing close enough that Sebastian’s palm still rested against his cheek, but the rigid curiosity that usually appeared whenever the visions surfaced had been pulled back under control.

Sebastian lowered his hand slowly.

"I saw us."

Nero’s expression changed before he could hide it.

Sebastian smiled.

"You look surprised."

"I expected you to tell me it was nothing."

"I was considering it."

"That sounds more familiar."

Sebastian stepped back toward the sofa and sat, moving the abandoned tablet aside before leaning into the corner. The pale green shirt he had been wearing all evening had wrinkled around his waist, and the loose charcoal trousers had ridden slightly above one ankle where he had been sitting barefoot.

Nero remained standing for another second.

Then he followed.

He sat beside Sebastian without crowding him, slate-blue suit trousers still immaculate despite the rest of him looking as though several ministries had personally attempted to ruin his day. The bronze tie was gone entirely now, left somewhere near the entrance with his jacket, and his cream shirt stood open at the collar.

Sebastian looked at him.

"Your hair was shorter."

Nero’s mouth tightened.

Sebastian laughed.

"That is what you took from that sentence?"

"I’m listening."

"You look offended."

"I’ve made my position on the haircut clear."

Sebastian shook his head.

"Shoulder length. Maybe a little shorter than that."

Nero reached back and touched the long white-blond hair tied at his nape as if confirming it remained safely attached.

"You were wearing formal robes," Sebastian continued. "White, with purple and gold embroidery. I don’t recognize the exact style, but they looked Sahan."

That finally redirected Nero’s attention.

"What were you wearing?"

"I didn’t see enough of myself."

"Where were we?"

"I don’t know."

Sebastian watched the frustration appear before Nero suppressed it.

"That is the problem with most of these."

Nero leaned one arm along the back of the sofa.

"You don’t see complete scenes?"

"Usually not."

Sebastian looked toward the dark windows.

The gardens beyond reflected the suite lights back at them now, turning the glass into a faint mirror.

"Most of the time it’s a flash. Sometimes a few seconds. Sometimes longer, but even then I don’t receive context with it. I don’t suddenly know the date or why we’re there or what happened before."

Nero stayed quiet.

That alone encouraged Sebastian to continue.

"I recognize emotions more easily than facts. I know when something feels familiar to that version of me. I know when we’ve been together for a long time because I can feel how normal touching you is, or how I speak to you without thinking about it."

His gaze dropped toward his own hand.

"This one was like that."

Nero followed the movement.

Sebastian lifted his hand again, palm facing upward.

"I touched your face exactly the way I did just now."

Nero’s eyes sharpened.

"You leaned into it."

"In the memory?"

"Yes."

Sebastian’s mouth curved faintly.

"You said I always did that when you were angry."

Nero glanced down at Sebastian’s hand, then took it and pressed Sebastian’s palm back against his cheek.

The movement was so deliberate that Sebastian laughed.

"You’re testing it?"

"I’m confirming historical consistency."

"Of course you are."

Nero turned his face slightly into the touch anyway.

Sebastian rubbed his thumb once beneath his eye.

It worked just as effectively now.

"There was something else," Sebastian said.

Nero went still.

"You had a ring."

His gaze dropped immediately toward his bare left hand.

"A wedding ring?"

"I think so."

"What did it look like?"

"I barely saw it. Silver or platinum, simple. It wasn’t the engagement ring you wear now."

Nero’s attention remained on his own hand for a second longer than necessary.

Sebastian knew what he was thinking.

Another version of Nero had apparently gotten farther than him.

A life Sebastian could not properly remember.

Experience Nero did not possess.

"Nero."

His eyes lifted.

"Don’t start competing with him."

"I’m not."

"You are absolutely about to."

Nero exhaled slowly.

Sebastian smiled.

"This is exactly why I usually hesitate to tell you."

"That is unfair."

"You are jealous of your own alternate existence."

"He had a wedding ring."

"We are getting married in four months."

"That is not the point."

"It is almost precisely the point."

Nero leaned back and rubbed one hand over his jaw.

Sebastian let him suffer for several seconds.

Then his expression softened.

"I don’t know if the flashes are useful."

Nero stopped.

"That is another reason I don’t rush to tell anyone. I have no idea whether something triggers them or whether my mind simply throws random fragments at me."

"This one happened when you touched my face."

"Yes."

"So that could have triggered it."

"It could."

Sebastian emphasized the last word.

"Or I could have remembered it tonight if I touched a lamp. I don’t know."

Nero considered that.

"The earlier ones?"

"Some seemed connected to what was happening. Others didn’t. The morning I told you not to cut your hair, I had seen you with short hair in a memory. That connection was obvious."

"And the others?"

"Not always."

Sebastian withdrew his hand from Nero’s face and folded it loosely over his lap.

"That is what you need to understand before you decide every flash is evidence. Sometimes I see something and learn nothing useful from it except that somewhere, somehow, something happened."

Nero’s expression had become thoughtful rather than frustrated now.

"Do they feel like memories while you’re inside them?"

"Yes."

"Then stop afterward?"

"The feeling stays longer than the image."

Sebastian paused.

"That is usually the worst part."

Nero’s hand moved across the cushion between them and settled over Sebastian’s.

No interrogation followed.

Sebastian noticed that too.

He looked down at their joined hands.

"You can ask."

Nero’s fingers tightened slightly.

"About this one?"

"About what I actually saw."

Nero thought for a moment instead of immediately producing the fifty questions Sebastian had expected.

"Were we happy?"

Sebastian looked at him.

That was not the question he anticipated.

He searched the memory again, not for details but for the feeling that had remained underneath it.

Nero standing close.

Sebastian touching his face without hesitation.

The wedding band.

The easy familiarity in both their voices.

"Yes," Sebastian said eventually. "I think we were."

Nero’s shoulders loosened.

Sebastian watched him and understood, perhaps for the first time, why these memories mattered so much to him.

He wanted proof that some version of them had made it.

Sebastian turned his hand beneath Nero’s and laced their fingers together.

"That still doesn’t tell us what happens here."

Nero looked at him.

"I know."

"But it was nice."

A small smile appeared.

"That is enough for tonight."

Sebastian leaned against his shoulder.

Nero immediately wrapped an arm around him.

For once, the vision did not leave Sebastian afraid of what came next.