Feo’s chest tightened as Lucius’s words hung in the air. The small touch to his arm made his heart stutter for a moment, the warmth of the gesture almost too much to bear in the quiet after everything. He wanted to say something, to explain that the space hadn’t been about not wanting to be near him, but that the weight of everything—his overwhelming feelings, the fear, the exhaustion—had pressed him into making a choice he hadn’t been ready for.

“I didn’t want to leave,” Feo muttered, the words quiet and raw. He swallowed, the lump in his throat heavy. "But it was like I couldn't stay. Not when I... didn't know what else to do."

He felt the sting of that, even as the words slipped out. Feo had always prided himself on handling situations, on keeping a clear head, but last night had shattered that, leaving him fumbling, uncertain of his footing. He had left because, in his mind, it had been the only choice left. To give Lucius space, to give himself space. But he could see now, even in this silence, that it hadn’t been what Lucius needed.

What had Lucius needed? What did he need now?

Feo’s gaze flicked to the side, but it felt almost like he couldn’t quite look Lucius directly anymore. There was something in the way his words had been said—calm, but with an edge—that hit Feo harder than he would have liked to admit. The ache in his chest tightened at the reminder of the fine line they had walked.

The stubbornness, the control. They both wore it like armor, but Lucius had made it clear that they couldn’t always keep hiding behind it. Feo’s lips parted as he opened his mouth to speak, but the words tangled in his throat. He didn’t know how to say what was eating at him. That constant fear of being too much, of wanting too much, of stepping over lines they had never even agreed on.

“I’ve never really been good at… sharing space,” he finally admitted, his voice quieter now, quieter than it had been for days. "Not with anyone, really. Not like this." His hand gripped the edge of his shirt, fingers pulling at the fabric almost absentmindedly. "I don’t know how to just… be with someone all the time. It’s not easy, Lucius. And I know it’s not for you, either. I can feel it."

There it was. The honesty he had avoided for days. The fear of being too much, of taking up too much space, of needing too much. But it was there now, in the open. Feo’s eyes closed briefly as he let out a long, steadying breath, trying to collect himself. It was harder than he expected.

“Maybe… maybe I need more space than I thought too.” His voice cracked as he said it, and Feo almost immediately regretted the words, but he couldn’t take them back. “I’m not saying I want to be away from you. But… it’s different now. And I don’t know what I’m doing half the time.”

It was so easy for him to lose himself in the idea of doing right by someone else. In wanting to be the person they needed, the person who always had the answers, who could fix it all. But Feo had learned long ago that he didn’t have answers. Not all the time. Not for this.

His heart still pounded too fast. His head still ached with the weight of everything they hadn’t said, everything they hadn’t figured out yet. He needed to fix it. He needed to make it right, but how? How did you fix something like this?

But Lucius’s voice—steady, calm—was the anchor. The reminder that maybe they didn’t have to have all the answers now. Maybe all they had to do was keep trying to figure it out.

He wiped a hand over his face, trying to clear the haze of fatigue that had clung to him since the night before. "I don't know what else to say, except that... I’m sorry. For everything. For not... knowing what the hell I’m doing."

But that was the truth. Feo didn’t know. He didn’t know what he was doing anymore.

He didn't know what else to do. That was alright. They didn't have to know exactly what to do. He took in a deep breath and let it out again, rubbing the back of his neck with his good hand.

"... I don't really know either, yeah. I mean, it's one thing to have had roommates but this... this is different. But--no, I understand. It's not that I want you to leave or I want to leave or that... I don't love you. But I think we both need to be alone. That's not a bad thing--it's not permanent, it's... it's a refuel of sorts. A... you get the idea. Sometimes, we just have to be ourselves."

Lucius lowered his hand to his lap again, looking toward Feo. "It's alright, you don't have to know. I mean, good grief, I don't even know half the time. I just.... go for it."

Lucius leaned back into the pillow and blankets. He offered his arm, gesturing to the rest of the bed. "If you want--and maybe it could help--a shower and then come rest. We can talk after we wake up. Is that alright with you?"

Lucius scanned his face with sapphire eyes, hoping it was the right thing to say. There was something in his eyes, some skeletons still there. Maybe Lucius couldn't get all of them out, but he'd try to get most of them. After all, bones...? He could handle bones. Even broken ones.

Especially broken ones.

"I'm sorry.. for not talking--about the right things," he said quietly. "For keeping it in and ... and jumping to conclusions."

He did that very well. Perhaps he even flew to conclusions instead of jumped.

That was a "skill" of his.

The young man leaned his head back, looking up at the ceiling. "Maybe you'll feel better in a new pair of clothes--after you've showered. I don't know... I... I'm just throwing things out now."

He admitted openly. He knew some people said they felt better afterwards. Maybe that was part of their issue, they didn't feel quite normal yet. It was a mixture of running away, running towards something and running in circles all at the same time. Exhausting. That's exactly what it was.

He realized he felt exhausted, Feo looked exhausted, their room? Well, it was kind of a refuge. It was also kind of ... stale. In the sense that Aera knew where they were, the stale safety had waned and now they were on edge.

Perhaps she had wanted that. But she hadn't been prepared for Lucius and Feo to actually... talk it out. Probably.

Lucius closed his eyes for a few moments, waiting to hear the bathroom door close behind Feo. Briefly, before it did, the soft touch along his hand had his eyes sliding open to look up at the demigod.

He could thank him all he wanted. But Lucius knew after he got some rest, he'd be doing the talking. Lucius had determined that he wouldn't hide anything now and that meant... the scars. Feo hadn't really seen them, hadn't... felt them. But he knew they were there, it was about time he finally explained the connection between the injury and why he mentioned wings all of the time.

Not that it was too... confusing. But it needed to be said. It really did. It was going to suck but it was going to have to be a conversation they had to have. Hopefully, it would help Feo understand that Lucius knew how to handle it... and help him understand why he had formulated the plan the way he had.

Avoiding violence until he absolutely couldn't. But that was an idea for later, at that moment? He wanted nothing more than to just sleep and sleep for a very, long while.

The sound of the shower going had him relaxing just a touch. It was all going to be fine. He had food, he had medicine, he was tired. It was time to get some good solid sleep without worrying. No worries.

None whatsoever.

That was all he needed.

He really hoped he was going to get some and if not, he hoped that it was Heimdal showing up so he could rat out Aera. That witch of a woman could go and burn for all he cared.

She was the reason most of this had happened! If it weren't for her, they would've left yesterday. ... today.

Who knew.

If it was anyone else, he was going to throw hands. Dream self couldn't break arms.

His chest lifted slowly and carefully before exhaling and settling into some semblance of vague sleep. The bed was warm and more or less soft. He had nothing better to do. Feo looked tired.

But he wasn't prepared for the look of the woman in front of him. Her shoulders were squared and broad, looking down on him with a warriors glare.

"Little owl--"

"... how about you do a little thing for me and piss off, eh? I want to sleep, I want to actually sleep. I do not care. I really don't. Take whatever cryptic message you have, send a telegraph or, better yet, keep it to yourself."

Lucius waved one hand and turned around. The woman let out an indignant noise, almost a squawk of surprise. "You dare--"

Lucius slapped his hands to his ears. "I'm not listening!" He shouted over her. "Piss off, let me be-e-e!"

He stirred briefly as the dream ended but gladly went back to sleep to finally rest.