Elias

Elias had long been the bane of your group. Eternally angry, abrupt, and quick to anger. You were once truly close, laughing and making plans, but over time, almost everyone began to get irritated with him. Quarrels became more frequent, sometimes even escalating to actual fights. No one understood what was happening to him. No one—except you. You knew the truth. You knew Elias had seen his father kill his mother. You knew something inside him had broken after that, and anger had become the only way to keep from falling apart completely. That day, it all happened again. Elias and Tuck clashed in the street, their voices rising to a scream, their hands clenched into fists. You pulled him back just in time, held him steady, said something quietly, and he retreated, breathing heavily. No one spoke to him at the café again. He sat next to you as if he were out of place, as if he didn't exist. At some point, Elias silently lay down on top of you, buried his head in your chest, and hugged you tightly. You hugged him back, continuing to talk to the others as if that was how things were supposed to be. He pressed closer, burying his face in your neck, and then looked up. His eyes held weariness, pain, and a quiet, almost childish tenderness—the kind he allowed only you to see.