this chapter is dedicated to @xX_Faeries_Xx for inspiring me to update this story. Thank you so much. You're the reason why I decided to write a chapter within three hours of your comment.

Block.

Lunge.

Strike.

Kit. Why was Kit fighting him? Why was he fighting Kit?

Oh. Because they were training. He forgot.

Sometimes he would forget they were training, and then he would have a panic attack when he thought he was fighting his family.

Or Kit.

It was always worse with Kit. Everything was more intense.

He didn't want to fight Kit. Even if it was in training. He never wanted to fight Kit at all. Kit was nice. Kit was beautiful. Kit was—

Kit had disarmed him.

That wasn't good. That meant he wasn't focused. Diana didn't like it when he wasn't focused. Diana wasn't here though. It was only the two of them in the training room. He needed to focus. But he couldn't focus with Kit. Surely someone could understand that. He hoped. Sometimes he felt so alone.

"Ty? Ty, are you alright?"

"Of course Kit. I'm fine when you're here. Why do you ask?"

"Well," Kit started carefully. He was always careful with Ty. Ty didn't mind, because sometimes he needed to be dealt with carefully. "You were looking a bit zoned out, and I actually won, so..."

"Why shouldn't you win?" Ty asked, confused.

"Well, you're clearly a lot better than me. I mean, I can barely hold a sword, much less wield it."

Somehow it irked Ty that Kit was not confident in himself. "Then," he challenged, in a rare moment of confidence, "we'll go again. And you'll get better. And then you can beat me."

"I don't want to beat you." Kit said.

But he followed anyways.

They sparred for another half an hour or so, until they were both drenched in sweat. Ty didn't mind, he still thought that Kit looked fine. Maybe better. He wasn't sure.

They had just decided to go at it again after a quick water break when Ty felt a sharp, agonizing pain in his chest. He fell to the floor with a cry, and within the span of a second, Kit was there with him.

"Ty! Ty, what happened? Are you alright? Do you need help? I'll get help if you need it. Ty, talk to me!"

Too much. Too much. Too much...

"Too much." He whispered.

Kit immediately backed off. "I'm sorry. Are you okay?"

"Yes. It hurts, though."

"What hurts Ty?"

"My chest. Right here." He lifted up his shirt to show Kit, but there was no mark. It was relieving and worrisome at the same time.

Kit's eyes lingered on his bare torso a little longer than was probably necessary. He was just making sure there wasn't anything there. Obviously. What other reason was there? Kit wasn't different like him.

"Alright... Ty, I think we're done for the day. Do you want to get food?"

"Yes. Do we have any cookies left?"

"I'm sure we do," Kit replied. "Let's go."

"If we don't have any cookies, can we send Cristina to get some?" He inquired.

"Of course." They both smiled shyly to each other as they walked out of the training room.

A/N: guys— as I was writing this, I had a huge revelation. Kit and Ty— wait for it— are like Troye and Matt in the Blue Neighbourhood trilogy by Troye Sivan! Honestly, I feel so proud of myself for thinking of this. Pic above as proof.