Page 256 of Claim Me
"What was that for?" Blue smiles, lifting those sapphire eyes to me.
"Just… thanks for being here."
"No need to thank me. I like being here."
"This is going to sound like thecheesy confessionswe talked about, but I… I like being around you all the time. Watching you. Being close to you. You’re like… the sun that keeps me alive."
A faint blush spreads across his cheeks.
"You are everything," I whisper. "In my every day, in my every breath."
We look at each other, and I can tell he has no idea how to respond.
Because now I already know. The one I’m talking to, the one listening, is still thatsixteen-year-old version of him, only just slowly growing along with us, with what we have.
So I decide to spare him the rest of it. "Okay, enough with the cheesy thing—"
"You… don’t have to limit it," he blurts out. His voice isn’t like his usual voice.
And I realize it's what his inner, teenage Blue wants. It'shimwho just spoke.
So I just softly smile, and he leans back over the tablet, but… I notice that for a while he just sits there staring at the same email, scrolled all the way down, no longer working.
I wonder what’s going through his head. I must have knocked him out of his rhythm.
But when some time later we step out of the car, he’s the one who reaches for my hand first.
We exchange small smiles, and even if I’m not exactly happy about this hospital visit, I’m with Blue, and that’s what matters.
???
We find Marcel in his hospital cell.
There’s a cot, and he’s lying there hooked up to IVs, motionless, emaciated, pale as death.
The sight of him hits something in me, because I remember him as the most beautiful omega on campus, full of life and passion, and now what’s left is just a shadow of someone slowly fading away on a hospital bed.
I know he’s an orphan, no parents, no siblings, and I doubt anyone visits him. Access is restricted, so he’s probably just lying here alone, staring at the same walls, facing the consequences of his choices and a disease that is killing him.
The physical changes in him are severe. Half of his face barely responds, and his gaze drifts slightly when we walk in. But his mind is still there.
"Hello, bastard," I snarl, not caring to conceal my hostility. "We meet again!"
"Gabriel?" he says when he sees me, slowly blinking. "I didn’t expect you. And definitely not… you, Mr. Lowen."
Oh, really, now it’sMr. Loweninstead of Blue, with such a respectful tone.
I feel my irritation spike instantly. Marcel has always been slippery, pleasant when it suited him. I don’t trust his polite tone at all.
"I’m honestly surprised your condition still lets you recognize us," I say, some sarcasm slipping into my voice.
Well, it feels off talking like that to someone who’s dying, but I can’t forget what he planned for us. No fucking way.
Blue walks up to the bed and sits beside him. Marcel’s pale blue eyes follow his movements, one corner of his mouth twitching into something like a weak smile while the other side remains still. The tumor has done real damage.
"What are you doing here? Is this even allowed? Without my la—lawyer?"
"Oh, relax. Don’t worry about lawyers. You won’t need one in the grave."
