Narrator's P.O.V.
Time dragged on far too slowly for the man. On the outside, Kael smiled and maintained an absolutely calm expression, interacting normally with his friends. Internally, however, anxiety consumed him completely. Every now and then, he found himself looking out at the boardwalk, hoping to catch a glimpse of Samuel, Yuri, or Verônica. When the trio finally returned, almost forty minutes later, the mood between them didn't seem to have exploded. Everything seemed strangely normal, yet there was a certain tension still lingering in the air. They rejoined the circle. Exhaustion seemed to take over, as some of them lay down on the sheet spread out on the sand to get some sleep, including Yuri and Kael. Both fell asleep.
However, sometime later, Ávila woke up to the sound of chatter. It seemed everyone was back in action, talking right at his feet. He sat up, rubbing his eyes and fixing his hair. When he finally began to register what they were saying, he realized Yuri was treading into incredibly dangerous territory as he spoke. Alcohol seemed to have loosened the younger boy's tongue, as he began telling Pabllyo, Samuel, and Lucas about an old fight the two of them had had weeks prior.
"No, but you guys don't understand," Yuri said, gesturing with the cup in his hand, his eyes heavy with a certain anger as he relived the memory. "That day, Kael talked about something that I just fucking hate! I swear, a wave of hatred washed over me like I'd never felt in my life. I almost cried from being so mad."
Kael felt his entire body tense up. He remembered that day very well. It was a wound that still hurt deeply, but one that Yuri seemed to make absolutely no effort to close.
"Yuri, for the love of God..." Kael interjected, his voice heavy with pain. "I've already apologized to you for that a million times. I didn't know that topic hurt you so much. You know how awful I felt. I had a fucking anxiety attack in the middle of the street because of how nervous I got, I didn't even know what to do!"
The entire circle seemed to fall silent. The desperation in the man's voice was palpable. Anyone with a shred of empathy would have backed down, but not Yuri. Farias shrugged, clear disdain stamped on his features. He didn't care, he couldn't care less. He looked Kael in the eyes with an indifference that bordered on terrifying.
"Yeah, I remember," the pseudo-redhead said, his tone casual, as if discussing the weather. "But I'll be completely honest with you, Ávila: in that moment, I was so full of hatred that if you dropped dead in front of me in the middle of that attack, I wouldn't have cared at all. I would have stepped over you and walked away."
The silence that fell over the group was deafening. Even Pabllyo, who loved drama, widened his eyes. Samuel, sitting a bit further away, clenched his jaw, watching the scene unfold.
Kael felt as though he had been physically punched in the stomach. He couldn't breathe. He blinked a few times, trying to process the absurd cruelty of those words.
"You... what?" Ávila asked, his voice coming out as barely a murmur.
"That's right," he confirmed, rolling his eyes, clearly annoyed at being called out. "You said whatever you wanted. It was what I was feeling. I'm not obligated to feel sorry for you."
The illusion shattered. All the cover-ups, all the excuses Kael had used for months to justify Farias's actions vanished in the blink of an eye. It wasn't immaturity. It wasn't confusion. It was pure malice. Yuri didn't see him as a human being, but as an object that could be discarded if it broke.
"Do you have any idea what just came out of your mouth?" The older man stood up abruptly, anger finally overtaking the sadness. His voice rose in pitch, echoing across the sand. "I almost died on that fucking sidewalk trying to fix a mistake I didn't even know I'd made, because I love you! And you tell me you would've let me die there?! You're an idiot, Yuri!"
"Oh, Kael, for the love of God, stop the drama!" Yuri fired back, raising his voice as well, trying to play the victim to the older man's reaction. "You always blow things way out of proportion! It was what I was feeling at the time, for fuck's sake! You wanna control how I feel now?"
"No," Kael cut him off, his voice dropping to a cold, cutting tone, disappointment weighing like lead in every syllable. He looked at the red-haired boy and, for the first time in a long time, felt absolutely nothing but pity and disgust. "I don't want to control you. I don't want a single fucking thing from you anymore."
Kael didn't wait for an answer. He didn't look at Pedro, nor at the paralyzed circle of friends. And, above all, he didn't look at Samuel.
He simply turned his back, kicking up the sand, and walked toward the darkest part of the beach, heading for the water's edge. He wanted distance from the noise, distance from the people, distance from the toxicity of that boy who had stolen his peace for far too long. He walked alone, the sound of the sea being the only thing that made sense that night...
...
Kael remained alone by the water's edge for what felt like hours. The constant, rhythmic sound of the waves crashing on the cold sand was the only thing that managed to quiet the deafening ringing in his head. He didn't cry. There were no tears left to shed for Yuri, only a deep, hollow exhaustion. The phrase "I would have stepped over you and walked away" repeated in his mind like a scratched record, but with each repetition, the pain lessened, giving way to a liberating realization: the illusion that blinded him, the one that used his feelings to trap him, tying him to the younger boy... that had been severed. No love survives absolute cruelty.
When he finally felt well enough, he went back and joined the others. The beach bonfire had already lost its momentum. The group, exhausted by the alcohol and the advancing early morning hours, began gathering the spreads, bottles, and trash. No one had gone after Kael. Pedro knew his friend needed that space to bleed out the disappointment, and Yuri... well, Yuri simply didn't care.
The man gathered his things and stepped away once more, walking along the water's edge as he watched the sunrise. He sighed heavily, his chest flooded with a feeling that tried at all costs to consume him, but he didn't afford himself the luxury of breaking. At least not entirely. When Kael finally rejoined the group on the boardwalk, he was a different person than the one who had arrived. His eyes were dull, his posture hunched from emotional exhaustion, but he didn't seek out Farias's gaze at any point.
The walk to the bus stop dragged on. The cold wind of the carioca dawn whipped their skin, making most of them hug themselves to stop the shivering. When the bus finally appeared on the avenue, nearly empty since it wasn't much past six in the morning, the group boarded in silence, spreading out among the seats.
Yuri threw himself into one of the double seats near the front, expecting, out of pure habit and ego, that Kael would come sit next to him so they could have another one of their classic whispered arguments that always ended with the older man giving in to his whims.
But Kael walked right past him. He didn't hesitate. He didn't look down.
The brown-skinned man walked down the unsteady aisle of the bus, his eyes focused on the back of the vehicle. There was Samuel. The boy was sitting in a double seat against the window, watching the buildings as the bus sped through the streets of the South Zone, his expression as unreadable as ever.
Kael stopped next to the seat. Samuel turned his face slowly, his brown eyes meeting his. There was a silent question hanging in the air. The curly-haired boy remembered perfectly the rule he had laid down at the metal bars: he wouldn't be a consolation prize, and he wanted nothing to do with Ávila!
But looking at Kael's destroyed face, at the way the older man seemed to carry the weight of the world on his shoulders after having his worst wound exposed and ridiculed, Samuel realized this wasn't a game. He wasn't there to inflate his own ego. He was there because he was in pieces.
"Can I sit here?" Kael asked, his voice hoarse, almost inaudible over the roar of the engine.
Samuel held his gaze for a long second. The coldness he had brandished all night wavered. Without saying a single word, the boy lifted the backpack resting on the empty seat and placed it on his lap, freeing up the space.
Kael sat down. The worn upholstery of the bus felt like the most comfortable place in the world in that moment. He rested his head against the headrest for a few moments, closing his eyes and letting out a shaky sigh that carried all the accumulated tension of the day.
The ride continued in silence. With every jolt of the bus, the proximity between the two became more evident, but neither of them forced a conversation. Words weren't necessary.
Overcome by mental and physical exhaustion, Kael moved slowly. He slid down in the seat, tilting his body to the side, until his head found Samuel's shoulder. The boy tensed his muscles for a fraction of a second, surprised by the sudden contact. Kael held his breath, expecting to be shoved away or rejected...
But the shove never came. Instead, Samuel relaxed his posture. He settled better into the seat, allowing the older man's body to lean completely against his. Calmly, they both gave each other more space, allowing the contact, snuggling closer together. Kael slid his hand down the younger boy's thigh, not with ulterior motives, but simply to caress his skin in some way. Novaes didn't refuse him...
And so, lulled by the sound of the engine and the growing light of the morning sun, they made their way back. No vows, no urgent kisses, no power games. Just Kael finding a safe haven in the storm, and Samuel, for the first time, letting someone truly rest in his arms.
They didn't need to say anything. The silence spoke for itself: they were together.