Lucas's Pov
The car ride home felt long. The city blurred past the window, same streets, same buildings, but nothing felt familiar anymore. I rested my head against the cool glass.
Ivey sat beside me.
She didn't talk much. Just her presence was enough. Every time I started to drift, mentally or physically her voice pulled me back. Soft. Steady. Safe.
When we pulled up in front of my house, I stared at the door for a long time. Funny how something so normal could feel so… foreign.
"You okay?" she asked.
"Yeah," I lied, unbuckling my seatbelt. The bruises were still fresh, and everything inside me ached, but it wasn't just that. It was the feeling of walking back into a life that had moved on without me.
My mom rushed out the second she saw the car. "Lucas!" Her arms were around me before I could fully stand. "God, I was so worried."
"I'm fine, Mom," I said, but the words felt too big and too small at the same time.
She glanced at Ivey and smiled. "You must be Ivey. Thank you… for everything."
Ivey nodded politely, brushing her hair behind her ear. "Of course. I'm glad I was able to help."
Inside, the house was exactly how I'd left it, too clean, and too quiet. My room felt like someone else's. A version of me that didn't just get wrecked in a fight and unravel a little in a hospital bed.
I sat down on the edge of my bed.
"You want anything?" Ivey asked, standing awkwardly in the doorway. She looked unsure, like she didn't know if she should stay or leave.
I shook my head. "Just… sit with me for a minute?"
She came in without another word, sitting beside me on the bed, careful not to bump me. We didn't talk. She just sat there, letting the moment settle around us.
"I'm scared," I admitted after a while, the words leaving before I could stop them. "Not of the pain. I can handle that. But I don't know how to go back to pretending everything's normal."
She looked at me, really looked at me. "You don't have to pretend. Not with me."
Something in my chest cracked, like a pressure valve finally letting go.
I turned to her, searching for something in her expression. "I don't know what this is. Us. But I don't want to mess it up."
She smiled, sad and hopeful at the same time. "Then don't."
It wasn't an answer, but maybe we didn't need one yet.
The day moved on slowly after that. My mom fluttered in and out, bringing water, pain meds, checking in. Ivey helped me settle in, folding my hoodie, and doing all the small things that somehow meant more than they should've.
By the time she stood to leave, the sun was starting to set.
"I'll come by tomorrow," she said, shouldering her bag.
"Okay."
She hesitated at the door. "And Lucas?"
"Yeah?"
"I'm glad you're home."
And just like that, the knot in my chest eased a little.
"Me too," I said quietly.
Even if home felt different now.
Ivey's Pov
I didn't sleep much after dropping Lucas off.
Even though he was home, even though he was safe, something still sat heavy in my chest. Like all of it, the hospital, the moment we shared, the fragile tenderness between us, might fade in the daylight.
But the next morning, I was back at his doorstep.
I didn't knock right away. I just stood there, staring at the door like it might tell me what I was supposed to do next. This was different from hospital rooms and beeping monitors. There, it had been just us. Here… the real world was creeping back in.
I finally knocked.
His mom opened the door with a warm smile. "Ivey, hi. Come on in. He's in his room. He hasn't really moved much."
I gave her a grateful nod and stepped inside. Everything smelled like coffee and laundry detergent. It was comforting in a strange way.
Lucas's door was slightly open. I peeked in.
He was sitting in bed, hoodie on, legs stretched out under the blanket. His hair was messy again, and he had that zoned-out look like he'd been staring at the same spot on the wall for hours.
"Hey," I said softly.
He turned. "Hey."
I stepped in slowly, suddenly unsure of myself. "I brought snacks. And, uh… your charger. You left it in the hospital."
He smiled faintly. "You saved my life."
I shrugged, placing the snacks on his desk. "That's what heroes do."
I sat down in the chair next to his bed, the silence was comfortable. Not heavy. Not tense. Just… still.
"You look like you slept worse than I did," he said.
I rolled my eyes. "Thanks."
"Were you worried about me?" He gave a tiny laugh, then winced, hand going to his ribs. "Okay, laughing is still not worth it."
I laughed a little then reached for the blanket and pulled it up around his legs. "How are you feeling?"
He hesitated. "Better. Physically. Mentally… I don't know. Everything feels off. I keep expecting something to snap me back to how things were before."
"Same," I admitted. "Except I don't want things to go back to how they were before."
He looked at me then. Really looked. "No?"
I shook my head. "Before, we were dancing around everything. Pretending like we didn't see it. Whatever this is, it's scary, yeah. But it's real."
Lucas didn't say anything at first. Just nodded slowly.
Then he reached out his hand, palm up.
Without thinking, I took it.
We didn't need labels right now. Or answers. Or clarity. Just this moment. Just the weight of his hand in mine again, reminding me he was still here.
"I'm glad you came," he said quietly.
"I always will."
The afternoon passed like that. No big declarations. No plans. Just side-by-side silence, the kind that felt more honest than any words.
Eventually, Lucas shifted, his fingers still loosely wrapped around mine. "Wanna do something?"
I raised an eyebrow. "Like what?"
He nodded toward his shelf. "Board games. I think I still have that one where we used to fight over the rules."
I smirked. "Monopoly?"
"No, that one nearly ended our friendship. I mean the one with the trivia cards. Half the answers are wrong but we still play it like it's gospel."
We played for a while—Lucas half-sitting, half-lounging under his blanket, and me cross-legged on the floor next to the bed. The game was stupid, full of questions that made no sense and led to more laughter than points. And every time he laughed and then winced and complained, it reminded me that he was okay. Not just alive - but also healing.
After the game, I helped him move to the couch in his room. He protested a little, but I think it was mostly for show. I grabbed us some chips from the kitchen, and we picked a movie at random—some action flick we'd both already seen a dozen times.
Halfway through, he leaned his head back and let out a sigh. "I forgot what normal feels like."
"This is pretty close," I said, curling my legs under me.
He turned his head slightly toward me. "With you, yeah."
That made my stomach do something weird. Nervous and warm and fluttery all at once.
We didn't talk much during the rest of the movie, but our hands found each other again—his fingers brushing mine before settling in like it was second nature.
After the movie ended, we sat in the quiet. Outside, the sky was darkening, streaks of purple and blue creeping in through the blinds.
"I don't know what's gonna happen next," Lucas said finally.
I looked over at him. "Me neither."
"But this? Today? I want more of this."
I nodded. "So do I."
He didn't kiss me. And I didn't expect him to. It wasn't that kind of moment. It was quieter, softer. Like a promise without the pressure of saying it out loud.
Just us. Just here.