Kyle was already awake when the first rays of morning light filtered in. He felt Lucas stir beside him, groaning softly as he opened his eyes. Turning to Kyle, Lucas muttered, "Good morning," then playfully punched him in the chest. "You know I hate you, right?"

Kyle's eyes widened in mock confusion.

Lucas sighed dramatically, smirking. "You look so perfect when you're sleeping. It's practically a sin." He let his fingers trace lightly along Kyle's shoulder, his touch affectionate, teasing.

Kyle released a breath he hadn't realized he was holding, his muscles relaxing as a chuckle bubbled up. He ruffled Lucas's hair, earning a sleepy smile in return. Lucas closed his eyes again, leaning in. "Don't take it too seriously," he mumbled. "I'm half asleep."

Kyle didn't let go. Instead, he traced the outline of Lucas's chest, feeling his pulse—fast but steady. "Beauty's in the eye of the beholder, right? My face might be pretty, but this," he pressed his ear against Lucas's chest, "is the most pleasant sound in the world. Your heartbeat."

He rested there for a moment, then kissed Lucas's chest softly. "I'm so glad you didn't leave me after everything."

Lucas exhaled softly, a hint of a smile touching his lips. "Leave you? Nah..." He paused, then grinned. "In this economy, finding a new roommate and an empanada investor is impossible."

Pulling back slightly, Lucas gazed at Kyle with an amused but sincere look. "Besides, who else would put up with me punching them awake every morning?" His expression softened. "In all seriousness, Kyle...you don't have to worry. I'm right where I want to be."

Kyle kissed his chest again, noticing a shift in Lucas's heartbeat—an overwhelming, frantic rhythm. He waited in silence, sensing something deeper was about to surface.

Lucas's voice was barely above a whisper. "I lived with Jacob for almost a year and a half. He was my husband, remember?" Kyle squeezed his hand, grounding him, as Lucas struggled to find the words.

"We fought so many times. I argued, begged..., and tried various things to spice up our bedroom life." Lucas's breathing hitched, his grip on Kyle's hand tightening. "I got toys, man. I brought in toys, and he kept denying his lovers." Tears began to roll down his cheeks, hot and silent. "I know the smell of cheap hotel soap, the scent of someone else's skin on him. For months, I knew, and he just kept denying it."

A chill ran through Lucas, and Kyle cupped his face, kissing away the tears. "I finally lost it when I found him with another man in our apartment. I couldn't take it anymore. And I know I lashed out at you, too. What do you think I did to him?"

Kyle's expression softened, his voice low. "Lucas...after everything he put you through, I get it. Anyone would feel the same." He brushed his thumb along Lucas's knuckles, a steady presence. "But what matters is that you're here, trying to heal."

Lucas's voice was almost inaudible. "I hurt the man I loved, Kyle. And the ugliest thing is, I don't want to apologize to him. I can't." He paused, swallowing hard. "I never told anyone out loud."

Kyle traced small circles on Lucas's chest. "It's over, Lucas. Even if it wasn't a clean ending, it was an ending. He signed the papers, and I shouldn't have interfered. I'm sorry. I took away your chance to discuss it, but...I couldn't let you suffer any longer."

Kyle chuckled softly, trying to break the tension. "He probably fears us both now."

Lucas whimpered, the sound muffled against Kyle's shoulder. Kyle kissed his forehead, his laughter returning. "I think he loved you in his own way, once. I saw it when I tried talking to him."

Kyle ruffled Lucas's hair, his voice pensive. "It's not unheard of for some guys to look for...adventure outside of marriage. He should've been honest and established boundaries. I have no idea why he didn't."

Lucas sighed, a bittersweet expression crossing his face. "I guess it's over, but I don't like how it ended. It was beautiful at first...and then, it all went wrong. What am I supposed to do with that?"

Kyle kissed Lucas's cheek, tasting the salt of his tears. "Maybe, next time, just try to write a better story. I won't be perfect, but I'll be honest. No more hiding, no more decisions without you."

Lucas smiled, soft and exhausted. "I'll do my best too. I won't lash out when upset—I'll just need time to process things. I might go quiet, but I'll tell you."

Kyle held Lucas's hand, tracing light circles with his thumb. "Tell me whenever I mess up, right then and there. I don't want you bottling things up with me."

Lucas's stomach growled, and they both laughed. Kyle kissed his cheek again. "Let me make you some coffee. And I'll even add a few of those potions you're so fond of."

"The record better show. I'm looking forward to it," Lucas teased, brushing his hand through Kyle's hair.

The sounds of cups clinking and water boiling stirred Lucas as he lingered in bed. He stretched, feeling the warmth of the space Kyle had left behind, a smile curving his lips. He could share his past here, move forward, and even reclaim some of his agency. The smell of coffee lured him out of bed, and he wondered if he was under Kyle's spell—if so, he didn't mind one bit.

Leaving the bedroom, he saw how much of the chaos in the living room had been cleared away. He breathed when he realized the remnants of last night's battle were gone, though the couch bore permanent claw marks. They'd need a new one, he noted with a tight chest, a reminder that there were still dangers ahead, ones Kyle couldn't always protect him from.

Kyle handed him a cup of coffee and a sandwich. "I need to start training, Kyle," Lucas said as he sipped. "I want to be able to handle monsters like the ones that wrecked this place."

Kyle's body tensed. The chaos monsters were ruthless; even he found them difficult to face. The one person who could train Lucas would be Uriel—a thought that filled Kyle with dread.

"Uriel's methods can be...intense," he explained at last, "but I'll call him. He can meet us at Lilian's."

Lucas stepped closer, lacing their fingers. "You want to wrap me in a blanket and hide me in a tower, right?"

Kyle nodded, his voice barely audible. "I'm terrified they'll hurt you. If anything happened...if you weren't yourself anymore..." His arms wrapped around Lucas, holding him as if he'd vanish.

Lucas kissed Kyle's cheek, his voice soft with a promise. "I'll stay out of harm's way as much as possible."

Kyle's lips met Lucas's in soft, lingering kisses, pressing him back to the counter. He'd dreamed of moments like this—Lucas beside him, willing to share his world and face whatever came. Yet doubt and worry gnawed at him. Should I really allow myself this love?

Reading his hesitation, Lucas shifted, now pinning Kyle gently against the cold granite counter. Kyle's eyes fell on Lucas's pendant, a reminder of the warmth he never thought he'd have again. He accepted Lucas's kisses, the weight of his doubts lightening as he leaned in.

They stayed entwined until Lucas winced in pain. "Not yet," he muttered, grimacing as he pulled away.

Kyle kissed his cheek, whispering, "Just a little more time to heal, okay?" In Lucas's embrace, Kyle felt a rare peace—a reminder that, maybe, for once, he could hope.

They showered and dressed to start their day in Lilian's and Uriel's company. Kyle chuckled at seeing Lucas dust off some combat boots laid at the back of the closet for the last month and a half.

"What?" Lucas blushed. "I don't know what I should wear, okay? Also, these are the only shoes I have for outdoor activities besides running shoes."

Kyle shrugged, "Anything is okay, I guess."

Lucas fumbled around the closet, trying to figure out what to do, but Kyle came forward and grabbed a blue t-shirt for Lucas. "It will be fine. Lilian is still Lilian."

"But your brother?" Lucas, pondering, was stopped by a wet but gentle kiss.

"He's too much in his head to care," Kyle grumbled, taking Lucas's hands. "Come on. Let's go. While you train with Lilian, maybe I can get some groceries for home; otherwise, we will be starving soon."

Contrary to the previous night's turmoil, Lilian's first exercise for Lucas was deceptively simple: chop onions while controlling his breathing, allowing the tearing smell to fill his nostrils. Lucas felt resistance; it was more complicated now than in his youth. He glanced around, relieved that Kyle had left searching for Uriel—he didn't want Kyle to see his soggy face.

He remembered when he could enter the kitchen without hesitation, confident in his ability to create. But life had thrown too many failures his way, and he couldn't afford another—especially not with the new recipe for empanadas filled with chorizo and mango that Lilian had provided.

The kitchen felt warm, a sweet mango aroma enveloping him, but Lucas struggled to focus. The recipe challenged him, pushing him out of his comfort zone by melding contrasting flavors. The dough was familiar, but the filling required precision.

He reread the ingredients: spicy chorizo sausage, ripe mango, jalapeño, onion, and garlic, along with cumin, paprika, salt, and pepper. He huffed as he measured, each ingredient feeling like a weight on his shoulders. His hands moved methodically, his concentration intense, as if the recipe was a lifeline he couldn't afford to misinterpret.

Lilian observed quietly, a gentle smile on her face. "You know, Lucas," she muttered, breaking the silence, "sometimes, being too careful can stifle creativity."

She twirled a sprig of coriander thoughtfully between her fingers. "Recipes are important, but cooking is also about instinct. You have a great sense of flavor. I saw it when we started planning for the empanada store. Today, maybe you should let your senses guide you."

Lucas hesitated, glancing down at the printed recipe. He understood that Lilian admired his decision to open the store, viewing it as a brave step outside his comfort zone. But he felt more like a careful risk-taker, grounded by values—creativity, a passion for cooking, and a desire to connect with Kyle. This was a calculated risk, not a reckless leap into the unknown.

With a warm hand on his shoulder, Lilian urged him, "Or you could discover something even better. Think of this as an exercise in letting go."

He took a deep breath and picked up the coriander. Its vibrant scent was fresh and earthy. His grandma Isabella liked coriander, a recurring herb on her dishes; she grew it herself in small pots around her garden. Her kitchen was his safe place as a child. A soft smile played on his lips, and it was funny how the kitchen's warmth and the smell of spices brought him such a flood of tenderness. Like Kyle's skin, Isabella's hands were rough due to hardships. 

As his fingers brushed against the velvet, feathery leaves of the coriander, its citrusy and nutty aroma filled his nostrils. A memory flickered—his grandmother Isabella saying, "Trust your hands, Lucas. They know more than your mind sometimes." He had always felt things others couldn't, sensing the change in the air. But life had taught him to be careful.

It hadn't always been this way. Meeting Jacob had awakened his intuition, a spark that had led him to believe in their connection. Leaving Jacob wasn't impulsive; it was a matter of self-respect, a decision born from years of betrayal.

With newfound resolve, Lucas added coriander, lime juice, and Greek yogurt to the filling, trusting that the lime's acidity would enhance the chorizo's flavors. He browned the mixture in a skillet, the sizzling sound filling the room and swelling his chest with pride. Finally, he folded in mango pieces, jalapeños, and spices. The resulting aroma blended sweetness and earthiness, reminding him of vibrant markets and joyful celebrations—perfect.

When Lucas was heating the oven, Kyle returned with bags of groceries. They exchanged a quick smile before Kyle gestured toward the park. "Ready to practice with the air?" Lucas felt hesitant but emboldened by Lilian's words and the grounding effect of cooking a new recipe. Lucas nodded, and Lilian took over the oven's vigilance. 

Lucas gave Lilian a grateful smile, thinking again about what had transpired. He decided to carry a leaf of coriander with him. Their soft, light, and crispy texture made him smile. Maybe he could learn to trust his instincts again and leap into the unknown—holding Kyle's hand.

In a quiet clearing, the city's noise faded, and Lucas took a deep breath, trying to connect with the air around him. There was a gentle coolness around them, and the rustling leaves and distant birds provided them with some comfort. 

Lucas stretched out his arms, focusing as hard as he could, but every time he tried to control the element, it slipped away like sand through his fingers. Frustrated, he ran a hand through his hair and glanced at Kyle, wondering if the wind only responded to his emotional connection with Kyle.

As if on cue, Kyle smiled at him. His voice was low and steady. "Just feel it. Feel the wind, Lucas. It's not just a force; it's a breath of life, a partnership. It flows; it dances. You can't control it like a puppet on strings. Let it come to you."

Uriel calmly explained, "You cannot force the wind; you can only feel where it wishes to carry you."

Lucas swallowed. The wind seemed so close, like it was just beyond his reach, brushing against his skin. "But what if it overwhelms me? "What if I lose myself in it?" he whispered, looking away.

Uriel patiently explained, "You won't lose yourself, Lucas. You're discovering who you truly are. The wind reveals your essence, not obscures it. The wind is a companion, Lucas. Let it guide you—let it carry your doubts."

Kyle was now just a few meters away. He stepped closer, his voice filled with pride. "You're stronger than you think, Lucas. You walked away from a toxic relationship and started rebuilding your life. Imagine it as a dance. You lead but also follow. It's a partnership, not a battle."

Lucas looked at them both, absorbing their words. He tried to relax, but the self-doubt weighed heavily; his chest felt tight. "I'm here, still picking up the pieces. But somehow, I've found a second chance."

Uriel's gaze was steady. "Your intuition may have led you to Jacob, but it also led you to Kyle. When you met him, you sensed something you recognized in him, even if you didn't fully understand it."

Lucas glanced at Kyle, feeling the echo of that initial jolt, that unplaceable sense of recognition. A fleeting, unguarded smile played on his lips. He paused for a moment, letting Uriel's words settle in. He was right. "But I don't know how I felt that. I just... knew."

Uriel inclined his head. "Exactly, Lucas. You didn't analyze it; you didn't dissect it. You allowed yourself to feel." He gestured around them, his voice a calming presence. "Think of it this way: you're not making the air respond to you. You're attuning to it, listening instead of controlling."

Lucas placed a hand on his chest and glanced at Kyle. "When I was a kid, things just felt right. I trusted myself without all this questioning. It's like that part of me faded over time... like I forgot to listen to my instincts."

Lucas closed his eyes, sighed, relieved, and took a deep breath. He felt Kyle's calming presence nearby, a reminder of his chosen path. "I know how to make safe choices, but this—" Lucas gestured at the air around him, his voice soft. It's different. It's about letting go and... trusting."

Kyle stepped closer, a warmth radiating from him. "Trust is letting go, Lucas. It's being open without holding tight." He placed a gentle hand on Lucas's shoulder. "Just let it be what it is."

Lucas hesitated, feeling Kyle's steady presence. "I hope I have the strength to stay with you," he murmured, shoulders slouched as he focused on the texture of the earth beneath his feet. The ground felt uneven but grounding, a reminder of the natural, imperfect path he was on.

"It's an effort," Kyle admitted, inching closer and gently touching Lucas's arm. "Sharing a home and a life is hard, but I'm trying to show my true self to you. I hope you can put up with me, too." There was a hint of vulnerability there, a recognition that he was also learning to open up and trust.

Lucas took a deep breath, letting Kyle's and Uriel's words settle over him like the soft weight of a blanket. He reached into his pocket for the coriander leaf, its fresh, nutty aroma grounding him instantly, stirring warm memories of Isabella's kitchen and her wise, reassuring presence. As he inhaled deeply, he began to see the wind not as something to command but as something alive, breathing alongside him—a partner he could invite rather than control.

He extended his hand and allowed the delicate, feathery leaf to slip from his fingers. Instead of reaching out to control, he released his grip, feeling a light, cool touch of air slide over his skin. It was almost as if the breeze were fingers tracing gentle, invisible paths along his knuckles and wrist, bringing a shiver that traveled up his arm, relaxing the tightness in his shoulders.

Around him, a faint breeze gathered, lifting the hair at his temples and carrying the earthy, sweet scents of wildflowers and soil. The tingling in his fingers spread a gentle, electric pulse that eased the weight in his chest. Lucas exhaled, feeling himself soften as if something locked within him had finally been released. He closed his eyes, allowing himself to sink into the sensation of the air embracing him, a current that cradled him as it flowed through his fingers, ruffling his hair and pressing lightly against his back.

For a brief, poignant moment, Lucas felt held by the air as if it had formed a cocoon around him, wrapping him in a cool, dewy layer that brushed softly over his cheeks. The rhythm of his own breathing blended with the sounds around him—the gentle rustling of leaves, birds calling from a distance—as though nature had found its way into his pulse, bringing with it a deep, grounded sense of trust.

Uriel's voice was soft, almost a whisper, slipping into the stillness. "Trust isn't built on certainty, Lucas. It's about opening yourself up without needing every answer."

When Lucas opened his eyes, a strange calm had settled over him, like he'd touched something vital, something long hidden within himself. The breeze lifted his hair and traced cool fingers through it while Kyle's gaze, warm and free of judgment, met his. Lucas felt trust resettle inside him for the first time in years—a gentle, steady presence, as if an old friend had found its way home.

The coriander leaf drifted gently down and landed in Kyle's open hand—a delicate reminder that trust need not shatter. It could return softly, bringing peace.