Chapter 290: Coward
ARIA
He was shaking.
Quiet sobs trembled through his body like aftershocks, muffled into the crook of my neck where he clung to me like I was all he had left in the world.
And maybe, for this moment, I was.
I didn’t know what to do with him... this boy who recently had been light in the middle of all my shadows, this boy who joked too much and laughed too loud and still managed to be the only softness I had when the world went sharp.
Sylas was crying.
Because of me.
And I couldn’t even cry back.
God, what kind of person did that make me?
My fingers moved through his hair. Slow. Repeating the motion over and over like it might calm the both of us. I didn’t know how to speak, not when my throat was thick and my heart was in knots.
I wish he hadn’t fallen for me.
I really, really wished he hadn’t.
Because I couldn’t change my heart,
And because Sylas didn’t deserve a mess like me.
He didn’t deserve to fall for a girl who could barely hold herself together, who flinched at her own emotions, who still... even now... found herself wishing that it was Kael who had said those words to her instead.
And that made me feel worse.
Not just for hurting Sylas, but for being this... this unstable, chaotic thing dressed in human skin, stitched together with guilt and grief and longing. And here Sylas was, pouring himself out to me, all broken and honest and trembling, and all I could think was:
"Why couldn’t he just love someone else instead?"
And why did I have to be that girl?
I couldn’t love Sylas.
Because my heart was stitched to Kael’s name in a way that scared me.
In a way that felt incurable.
And now Sylas was hurting in my arms because of it.
"I’m sorry," I whispered, though I knew it didn’t fix anything. "I’m so, so sorry..."
He didn’t answer. Just held me tighter, like maybe if he squeezed hard enough, I’d change my mind. Like maybe he could rewrite fate with the pressure of his embrace.
I kept stroking his hair.
It was soft.
He was warm.
He was good.
Too good.
And me? I was selfish.
Because even now, I let him stay here. Let him cry into me. Let him love me.
Because it made the silence in my own chest just a little less loud.
Because without Kael... I was cold.
And Sylas, even in his heartbreak, was still warmth.
And I didn’t want to let go just yet.
Eventually, he pulled away.
His breath was uneven, his eyes glassy and wet, and I could see it... how much those words had cost him. How much he wished it had fixed something. But it didn’t. It only shattered things he’d tried so hard to keep together.
He stood up, his balance all wrong, like his body wasn’t sure if it wanted to keep standing or just crumple into a sob. I rose to follow him, heart thudding with something I didn’t want to name.
"Sylas," I whispered, reaching for his wrist. "You’re too drunk to go anywhere right now."
He paused... but only for a second.
And then he pulled away again. Gentle, but firm.
Like someone peeling off a goodbye they’d been avoiding.
"Don’t stop me, Aria," he muttered. "I don’t wanna do another thing I’ll regret."
My hand fell to my side, useless.
And I let him go.
I didn’t have the strength to fight what we already both knew.
He left me sitting there.
Just me.
And the city.
And this unbearable ache behind my ribs.
The moment he was gone, it was like the alcohol remembered it still had a grip on me. The dizzy, blurry kind of high that no longer felt comforting, just heavy. Sickening. Every light in the distance blurred into a mess of colors and everything I’d buried all night started crawling its way back to the surface.
I leaned back into the seat, exhaling slow. My hands were cold. My heart was louder than ever.
I felt guilty. I really did.
But at the same time... I didn’t.
Because I loved Kael.
I fucking loved Kael.
And somehow, even now, even with Sylas’s confession still echoing on my ears, I missed him. I missed Kael.
But then something hit me.
Did I ever tell him?
I couldn’t remember ever saying the words.
Not once.
Not out loud.
And that realization? It knocked the breath right out of me.
All I ever did was assume.
Assume he knew.
Assume he felt it too.
Assume he’d see it in the way I looked at him like he was my world and my war and everything in between.
But I never told him.
Not the way Sylas just told me.
Not the way Sylas poured his heart into my hands like I was worthy of holding it.
And maybe that’s because... I’m a coward.
A big, spineless coward.
It was easier to pretend. Easier to sit in the uncertainty than face the truth. Because what if I said it and he didn’t say it back? What if I reached out and he didn’t catch me?
I swallowed hard, staring out into the city like it held answers. Like it might tell me what the hell I was supposed to do with this mess of a heart I had.
And then I felt it... someone slumping down beside me.
My chest jumped, and for a moment, I thought it was Sylas again. That maybe he came back. Maybe—
But it wasn’t.
It was Ash.
She didn’t say anything at first. Just sat there, arms crossed and head tilted toward the view like she was giving me a minute to gather my breath.
Then she asked, soft but blunt, "What happened between you and my brother?"
I didn’t answer. Not right away.
The silence was loud. Uncomfortable.
And then... she sighed.
"Let me guess... he confessed to you and you rejected him, didn’t you?"
I closed my eyes.
Yeah.
I did.
And I didn’t know if that made me brave or just even more of a coward than I already was.
"Yeah," I finally said. "I rejected him."
Ash didn’t react much. Just leaned back and stretched her long legs, fingers still wrapped loosely around her half-empty glass. Her sigh was the only sound between us for a while.
"I already warned him," she murmured, her voice low. "I told him not to fall for you."
Guilt pinched my chest harder. I looked away from her.
"I’m sorry," I whispered.
"Don’t be." She turned her face toward me. "You didn’t do anything wrong. Feelings aren’t something you need to apologize for."
I wanted to believe her. But that didn’t erase the image of Sylas’s face, all flushed and broken and full of that kind of aching hope that tears you in two when it doesn’t land.
Before I could say anything else, Ash stood and walked off without another word. I thought maybe she was angry or I’d pushed her away too... but she came back a minute later, two fresh drinks in hand. One was already missing a few sips.
She handed one to me, raised the other in a little toast, and I took it. Downed half in one go. Felt the burn settle in my stomach.
"He deserves better," I said quietly. "Someone who’s not a complete mess like me."
Ash snorted and gave me an unimpressed look. "Agreed."