The tension in my apartment is stretched thin like a rubber band ready to snap. Declan is pacing the small living room, his boots heavy against the hardwood floor, while Adrian sits stiffly on the couch, his hands clasped together like he's bracing for bad news. And he is, even if he doesn't know it yet.

I sit on the edge of the armchair, my hands gripping the mug of tea that's long since gone cold. My heart pounds as I try to figure out the best way to say it, but there's no good way to soften a blow like this.

I glance at Declan, his brows furrowed and his jaw tight. He's been like that since I told them we needed to talk before Elias got here. I know he's already running through every possible worst-case scenario in his head. Declan doesn't do well with waiting, and this is no exception.

"Val, are you gonna say something?" Declan finally snaps, stopping mid-step to glare at me. "What the hell is going on?"

Adrian looks at me too, his dark eyes sharp but quieter in their intensity. He doesn't say anything, just waits, his fingers flexing like he's trying to keep himself calm.

I set the mug down on the coffee table and take a deep breath. "It's about Elias."

Declan's shoulders stiffen, and Adrian leans forward slightly, his elbows resting on his knees. The weight of their attention is almost suffocating, but I push through it.

"His mom died," I say softly, the words feeling heavy even as they leave my mouth. "Yesterday."

Declan freezes, his eyes widening before narrowing into something colder. "What?"

I nod, my throat tightening. "She passed away yesterday. I found out this morning when I went to check on him. He's..." I trail off, searching for the right word. "He's not okay."

Declan looks away, his hands balling into fists at his sides. "And he didn't tell me?" His voice is low, almost like he's talking to himself, but I hear the hurt laced in his words.

"It's not like that," I say quickly. "He didn't tell anyone. I only found out because I showed up unannounced. He wasn't answering his phone, and I was worried."

Declan shakes his head, his jaw clenching so hard I can see the muscles twitching. "Still. I'm his fucking-" He stops himself, rubbing the back of his neck. "I don't know. I just thought he'd... tell me."

Adrian clears his throat, his voice calm but heavy. "People grieve differently, Declan. Maybe he just... couldn't."

Declan doesn't respond, his gaze fixed on some spot on the floor. The silence stretches, thick and uncomfortable, before I speak again.

"He's really torn up about it," I say, my voice softer now. "And I don't think it's just about losing her. I feel like there's more to it, but he wouldn't tell me."

Declan finally looks up, his eyes meeting mine. "What do we do?"

I exhale, relieved that the sharp edge in his voice is gone. "We be there for him. But not in a way that smothers him or makes it awkward. He's already carrying so much. The last thing he needs is to feel like he has to take care of us, too."

Declan nods, but I can see the tension still radiating off him. "So, what? We just act like everything's fine until he wants to talk about it?"

"Not act like everything's fine," I correct. "Just... follow his lead. Be there, but don't push him."

Adrian leans back against the couch, his gaze thoughtful. "Elias doesn't seem like the kind of guy to ask for help, even when he needs it. If he shuts down completely..."

"He isn't. But he won't," I say firmly, cutting him off. "He's got us. We're not letting him spiral."

Adrian nods, but there's a flicker of doubt in his eyes. I get it. Elias is a wild card, unpredictable and stubborn as hell. But he's also ours, and we're not letting him go through this alone.

The sound of Declan's boots against the floor breaks the silence as he resumes pacing. "When's he getting here?"

I glance at the clock. "Soon."

Declan nods, but he doesn't stop pacing. I know him well enough to see the storm brewing under the surface. He's hurt, and he doesn't know how to process it, so he does what he always does. Shuts down the emotion and focuses on the problem.

Adrian, on the other hand, is quiet, his fingers still fidgeting but his expression calm. It's his way of processing, I think. Internalizing everything until he's ready to deal with it.

And me? I'm somewhere in between, holding it all together for now but barely. Because the truth is, seeing Elias like that this morning broke something in me. He's always been the strongest of us in so many ways, the one who can take anything and keep going. But today, he looked... lost. And it fucking killed me.

"I just want to help him," I say softly, more to myself than to them. "I just don't know how."

Declan stops pacing and looks at me, his expression softening. "We'll figure it out."

Adrian nods. "Together."

The sound of a motorcycle roaring up outside of my apartment pulls our attention to the window. Declan moves first, peering through the blinds before turning back to us. "He's here."

I take a deep breath, trying to steady myself as I stand. "Okay. Remember. Don't smother him."

Declan smirks, but it doesn't reach his eyes. "Yeah, yeah. I got it."

Elias walks into my apartment like a storm pretending to be sunshine. His leather jacket hangs off his shoulders with that effortless cool he always seems to carry, and his grin is as cocky as ever. But I know better. I know what's lurking under that sharp smirk, and it's enough to make my stomach twist.

"Look who finally decided to show up," Declan says, a teasing edge in his voice as he stands from the couch. He claps Elias on the shoulder, pulling him into one of those guy-hug things that's all slaps and no lingering.

"Miss me, Dec?" Elias quips, winking as he steps further into the room. His eyes sweep over Adrian, who's still fiddling with his fingers, and then land on me. "Hey." His tone softens just enough to make my heart ache.

I force a smile, trying to match his energy. "Hey yourself."

He gives a low chuckle, setting his helmet down on the counter with a casual clink. But even as he leans against the edge of the island, his body is a little too still, like he's holding himself together with duct tape and sheer force of will.

"Beer?" Adrian asks, already reaching for another bottle from the fridge.

Seeing Adrian fit in with Elias and Declan makes my heart swell, but it doesn't last long. My heart is too heavy right now.

"Thought you'd never ask," Elias says, flashing that lopsided grin again. He catches the bottle Adrian tosses his way, popping the cap off with a flick of his wrist. He takes a long swig, leaning his elbow on the counter like he doesn't have a care in the world.

But I know better.

I settle onto the couch next to Declan, trying not to let my eyes linger on Elias for too long. The way he's acting...it's too perfect, too practiced. He's always been good at hiding his pain, at masking it with charm and bravado. But after this morning, after seeing him so raw and broken, I can't stop seeing the cracks in his armor.

Declan leans back, his arm draping over the back of the couch, his eyes flicking between me and Elias. "You doing okay, man?" he asks, his tone casual but with just enough weight to let Elias know the question isn't rhetorical.

"Never better," Elias says, his grin widening. He lifts his beer in a mock toast. "Thanks for asking."

Declan's jaw tightens, but he doesn't push. He just glances at me, and I know we're both thinking the same thing. This isn't the Elias we know. Not really.

Or, I guess, it's too much of the Elias we know. This is not the same man I saw this morning. He's acting like himself, but it's all wrong. Too forced. Like someone is wearing his skin and pretending to be him.

Adrian, for his part, stays quiet, his gaze steady as he watches Elias from the kitchen. He's always been the most reserved of us, but tonight, his silence feels heavier, like he's taking mental notes and filing them away for later.

We try to keep the mood light. Declan cracks a joke about Elias's motorcycle, calling it "his midlife crisis on wheels," and Elias fires back with something about Declan's cop car being compensatory. Adrian chimes in occasionally, his dry wit cutting through the tension with precision. But no matter how much we laugh or banter, there's an undercurrent of something darker that none of us can ignore.

Elias drinks faster than usual, his hand reaching for another bottle before he's even finished the first. By the time we're an hour in, he's already five deep, and I catch Adrian exchanging a look with Declan.

"Slow down, cowboy," Declan says, his voice light but firm. "We're not trying to drain the whole fridge tonight."

Elias waves him off, his grin a little looser now. "I'm fine. Relax. This is a celebration, right? Or... something."

I frown, the words catching in my chest. A celebration? Of what? His mom's death? I glance at Declan, but he's already leaning forward, his elbows on his knees, his gaze locked on Elias like he's trying to figure him out.

Elias must feel the weight of our stares because he shrugs, lifting his beer in another mock toast. "To... surviving shitty parents," he says, his voice suddenly bitter. The grin on his face doesn't reach his eyes, and for a moment, the mask slips. Just a fraction. Just enough.

The room goes quiet.

Declan looks like he wants to say something, but Adrian beats him to it. "Elias," he says, his voice calm and even, "you don't have to do this."

Elias blinks, his expression hardening. "Do what?"

"Act like everything's fine," Adrian says simply. "We're not going anywhere."

For a moment, Elias just stares at him, his jaw tightening. Then he laughs, but it's hollow, the sound sharp and brittle. "Jesus, Adrian. You sound like a Hallmark card."

Adrian doesn't flinch, his gaze steady. He's so much like me and I wonder if that is what drew me to him. "Maybe. But I mean it."

Elias shakes his head, taking another swig of beer before setting the bottle down a little too hard on the counter. "I'm fine. Seriously. You don't need to psychoanalyze me, doc."

The room falls silent again, the air thick with unspoken tension. I shift in my seat, my heart aching as I watch Elias retreat further behind his walls. It feels like he's pushing us all away with both hands.