Page 28 of We May Be Fractured

Taking a deep breath, he was amazed at how much easier it felt. This odd game of Landon’s had actually worked.

Landon pulled out a cigarette and glanced at Aaron for an okay before lighting it up.

As the smoke drifted towards him, Aaron exhaled deeply.

It was ironic.

Just moments ago, he’d felt like he couldn’t get enough air, almost suffocating. But now, sitting there with Landon’s smoke wafting in his face, he breathed properly for the first time since stepping outside—a strange kind of relief.

Landon blew out another puff of smoke. “Just saved you months of therapy.”

Aaron, drawing his knees to his chest with a puzzled look.

“That thing you just did, it’s a technique my therapist showed me for panic attacks. Helps you focus on your senses to get control of your body back,” Landon explained.

“You’re seeing a therapist?”

“Yeah, a session every other Thursday evening,” Landon replied, as he blew out more smoke.

“Don’t you go out with Ria on Thursdays?”

Landon blew another stream of smoke towards Aaron. “Ria and I are part of the same…club. We meet on Thursdays. And since my therapist’s office is nearby, I usually have my sessions right after.”

“So, you and Ria…”

“What about me and Ria?”

“You’re not…dating?”

Landon shook his head, almost laughing. “Where did you get that idea from?”

“It’s what everyone seems to think,” Aaron admitted.

“Classic heteronormativity. Just because a man and a woman hang out, doesn’t mean they’re sleeping together.”

“So, you’re not…friends with benefits or anything?”

“Definitely not,” Landon confirmed with a smile. “I’m gay.”

That revelation took Aaron by surprise. Not because it mattered to him—people’s sexual orientations weren’t his business—but because everyone seemed so sure Landon was involved with Ria. “Is it—are you not out?”

Landon waved his hand dismissively. “It’s not some big secret or anything.”

“But how has Nyle not picked up on this?”

Landon chuckled. “He’s too wrapped up in his own rainbow world to notice there are different shades of gay, I suppose. Or maybe I just don’t fit his idea of what being gay looks like. Who knows?”

He snuffed out his cigarette in a paper cup and stood up. “By the way, about that therapy thing.” He pulled out his phone. “I can give you my therapist’s contact if you want. Helped me a lot; might do the same for you.”

Aaron rose swiftly, brushing off the idea. “Nah, I’ll pass.”

Landon looked at him squarely. “At least give it a try.”

“Been there, done that. Didn’t work for me.”

“Maybe you didn’t find the right one.”

Aaron scoffed. “They’re all the same, really. What do they do? Wait for you to sit there, spill all your problems, and then magically pretend to fix everything?”

“It’s not about fixing. It’s about understanding and finding your own way to deal with them.”

“Yeah, right.”

“Look, therapy is not for the weak. It takes courage to face what’s troubling you. And from what I see, you’ve got a fair bit weighing on your shoulders. It helps to talk to someone.”

Aaron hesitated, Landon’s words hitting a nerve. “You’re weird. Don’t trust anyone, yet you spill your deepest secrets to a stranger.”

“Well, that’s the whole point. Sometimes it’s easier to talk to someone you don’t know. A friend can only help so much, while a therapist does that for a living. Lottie’s great. I wouldn’t recommend her otherwise.” Landon tapped something on the screen, and then Aaron’s phone buzzed.

“What’s this?” He checked the message and read the contact details Landon had sent through: Charlotte Starford.

“That’s my therapist’s number. Think about it,” Landon said, calm but firm.

“I won’t. I don’t need a therapist.”

“The way you reacted earlier says otherwise.”

Aaron ran a hand through his messy hair, twirling a strand around his finger. He pulled his hood up and swivelled to look at the summer house. Part of him wished he could pick the lock, sneak in there, and hide.

“I shouldn’t have let you see me like that,” he said, almost to himself.

“Hey, no need to be embarrassed. It hasn’t changed what I think of you. We all have our moments, don’t we?”

Aaron didn’t feel entirely reassured, but he was grateful for Landon’s words. He fiddled with his pendant, taking a deep breath. Then, as if releasing a hidden truth, he quietly confessed, “I’m not into gifts.”

The soft rustling of grass signalled Landon’s movement, but Aaron’s hood limited his view, shadowing his face.

“All right, no Christmas presents for you, then.”

Aaron turned partially towards Landon. And even like this, even in the fading light, he felt oddly exposed, like the koala doodle Landon had glimpsed the other day.

It was as though Landon was studying the sketch again, seeing beyond the simple lines to the deeper emotions it held.

In the silence, Aaron felt vulnerable yet understood under Landon’s observant eye.

“Aren’t you going to ask me why?”

“No. But if you ever want to talk about it, know that I’m here to listen.”

Aaron managed a nod, his mind still a jumble. The whole episode, from Nyle’s gift to his near breakdown, was too complicated to explain.

“Thanks,” he muttered, eyes drifting to their feet. He hoped Landon understood that his gratitude wasn’t just for offering a listening ear, but for being there, helping him ride out the storm of his panic attack. He’d remember that little game from now on.

“Do you want to go back inside? It’s getting cold,” Landon suggested.

“Okay.” Aaron moved towards the glow of the living room.

“Wait.” Landon stepped in Aaron’s path, causing him to stop so abruptly he nearly walked right into him.

He was close enough to feel Landon’s sturdy presence—a comforting barrier that seemed to promise Aaron wouldn’t have fallen even if they had bumped into each other.

It struck him then how Landon had become a sort of safe haven for him, a strange and comforting thought.

If Aaron had asked to stay there, outside, Landon would have shielded him from anyone else’s intrusion.

When had he started thinking of a person instead of a place as a safe refuge?

Just as Aaron regained his balance, Landon reached out and slowly pulled back his hood, exposing Aaron’s face, now open to the cool night air. But instead of the chill, Aaron basked in the warmth from Landon’s hands, a warmth that stayed even after Landon had let go.

“There, that’s better,” Landon said with a small smile. He turned, gesturing for Aaron to follow him back inside.

As soon as they stepped into the living room, Nyle bounced over with a pair of balloons. “Hey, you’ve been missing out! The party’s out here, not in the garden!” He offered them each a balloon. “Fancy a laugh?”

Landon declined flatly, but Aaron accepted.

“These got nitro in them?” he asked.

Nyle’s grin widened as he nodded. To demonstrate, he inhaled from his balloon in quick bursts. Within seconds, he was lost in a fit of giggles. “Give it a go. It’s brilliant!”

Aaron didn’t need much convincing. He took a deep breath from the balloon, the vapour filling his lungs.

The world around him seemed to warp and stretch, like a shadow lengthening at twilight.

His senses became more acute; the music and lights intensified, and his laughter sounded foreign to him, as if echoing from the depths of a long, dark tunnel.

Over the noise, Nyle, still giggling, shouted, “Isn’t this song great?”

Aaron nodded, recognising “My Universe” by BTS and Coldplay. Caught up, he sang along, even attempting the Korean parts.

Landon shook his head. “Since when do you speak Korean?”

“Always full of surprises, aren’t I?” Aaron answered, but the effects of the gas had worn off, bringing him back down to earth.

Landon’s smile was subtle, almost hidden, but Aaron caught it—a faint uplift at the corners of his mouth. A shadow of it lingered in Landon’s eyes, which held a depth hinting at past troubles, but that fleeting smile caught Aaron’s attention, holding his gaze.

“You’re smiling. I made you laugh,” he observed.

“I’m not laughing,” Landon replied, but his tone betrayed a touch of amusement.

“Ah, must be a trick of the light, then.”

“Or the gas is causing you to have hallucinations.”

“Did you know you get dimples when you smile?”

“No,” Landon responded with a hint of caution, the amusement still lingering.

Aaron gestured to his own cheek. “Right here.”

“I’m not laughing,” Landon insisted.

“Oh, I forgot. Black isn’t just your colour choice, it’s a lifestyle. Laughing might ruin your image.”

Landon huffed softly, a sound Aaron had come to recognise as a crack in his usually impassive demeanour. Then Landon made his way towards the kitchen, where Ria signalled to him. With nothing else to do, Aaron followed.

“Hey, Birthday Boy! Enjoying yourself?” She smiled at him.

Landon said, “He’s had his fair share of fun for one day.”

Ria laughed softly, pushing a strand of hair behind her ear. “Fancy a special birthday cocktail? What’s your poison?”

“I’ll leave it to the expert,” Aaron replied, gesturing towards her.

Ria and Landon shared a glance that Aaron couldn’t quite read. Knowing now that their relationship was purely platonic, he felt more at ease around them.

“I’ll whip something up,” Landon offered, moving to gather various bottles and a shaker.

“Should I be worried?” Aaron asked jokingly.

“Trust me, Landon’s a wizard with cocktails.”

Aaron watched him at work, captivated by the precise way he prepared the drink.

He could have watched him for hours, but soon Ria handed him the finished cocktail, a blend of soft gradients, topped with a fruit garnish.

It smelled predominantly like strawberry, and the first sip, sweet and spicy, left a refreshing aftertaste.

“Well, what do you think?” Ria asked eagerly.

The drink was, quite simply, amazing. Aaron didn’t say as much, but his request for a second, then a third, and even a fourth cocktail said it all. He couldn’t pinpoint what made the drink so good; he only knew he couldn’t get enough of it.

As the night went on, with more rounds of drinks and ever-wilder chats, Aaron started to think that maybe, just maybe, he was actually having a good time at a party. The alcohol seemed to be doing its job because his thoughts had gotten more out there.

Every now and then, he would find Landon, and each time, he’d remember how warm Landon’s hands had felt earlier. He imagined the firmness of Landon’s hold, a grounding presence in the whirlwind of the party.

Watching Landon take a sip, an absurd thought occurred to Aaron. What would it be like to taste that drink but from Landon’s lips?

Aaron shivered, surprised and shocked by where his imagination had wandered. He shook his head to clear it, but the idea lingered.

For the first time ever, Aaron wanted to kiss someone. And not just anyone. He wanted to kiss Landon.