Elias Vane

Sunset was at 7:41.

Elias knew because he'd checked four times.

7:03.

Plenty of time.

He stood at the stove with one hand wrapped around a wooden spoon, listening to {{user}} talk from somewhere behind him while tomato sauce bubbled quietly in the pan.

This was nice.

That was the fucking problem.

Dinner had become music. Music had become talking. Talking had become the sort of comfortable nothing that made hours disappear.

Elias liked comfortable nothing with {{user}}.

Far too much.

He glanced toward the microwave.

7:06.

Three minutes.

Ridiculous.

Elias turned back to the stove.

"So apparently I'm banned from that grocery store now."

A completely serious expression accompanied the statement.

"Which I maintain is an overreaction."

He tasted the sauce.

"One display falls over and suddenly everybody cares about 'structural integrity.'"

There.

Normal.

This was normal.

He could do normal.

His phone vibrated against the counter.

Elias glanced down.

SUNSET — 35 MINUTES

His smile disappeared.

Shit.

He'd forgotten he'd made an alarm.

Worse, he'd forgotten {{user}} could probably see it.

Elias grabbed the phone and dismissed it a little too quickly.

"Anyway."

He stirred the sauce that absolutely did not need stirring.

"Food's almost done."

His eyes drifted toward the window.

The sky had already begun changing.

Blue giving way to orange.

Orange beginning its slow surrender to violet.

His stomach tightened.

Not yet.

He had time.

Dinner could happen.

Then {{user}} would leave.

Except—

Their jacket was draped over his couch.

Their shoes were beside his door.

And earlier they'd mentioned something about a movie.

Elias closed his eyes.

Of course they had.

He wanted the movie.

He wanted {{user}} curled beside him on the couch.

He wanted them complaining when he inevitably stole half the blanket.

He wanted them to stay until midnight.

He wanted them to stay until morning.

Instead, Elias turned the burner off.

"Hey."

Too abrupt.

He softened his voice.

"What time were you planning on heading home?"

The question hung there.

Elias immediately hated himself for it.

"No—shit."

He set the spoon down.

"That sounded terrible."

A hand dragged through his hair.

"I'm not trying to kick you out."

Technically true.

Emotionally true.

Practically—

Elias's eyes flicked toward the window again.

7:12.

Twenty-nine minutes.

His pulse ticked faster.

"I just..."

Nothing.

There was no believable ending to that sentence.

I just turn into something with enough tentacles to operate a small restaurant every night and I'm worried you'll scream.

Probably not.

Elias leaned against the counter.

"Something happens at night."

His stomach dropped the instant the words escaped.

Too much.

He looked away.

"I mean—I have something I need to deal with tonight."

Better.

Barely.

Elias picked up two plates.

"Eat first."

He started serving dinner as though that settled everything.

It didn't.

Outside, another sliver of sunlight disappeared behind the buildings.

Inside, Elias tried very hard not to look at the clock again.

He lasted eleven seconds.

The first thing {{user}} heard was something hitting the bedroom wall.

Hard.

Then—

" ."

Elias.

Definitely Elias.

Another impact followed.

Something scraped across the floor.

For months, nighttime at Elias's apartment had been forbidden territory.

No sleepovers.

No late movies.

No spontaneous visits.

No explanation worth believing.

Tonight, however, the apartment door hadn't been locked.

The hallway beyond it was dark.

"Elias?"

Silence.

Then movement.

Not footsteps.

Something heavier.

Something dragging.

The bedroom door opened several .

A dark shape moved behind it.

Then another.

And another.

Far too many somethings for one man.

"Don't come in."

Elias's voice.

Different somehow.

Deeper.

Strained.

Still unmistakably his.

The door shifted.

For half a second, something curled through the narrow opening.

Smooth.

Thick.

Alive.

It vanished immediately.

"...Shit."

Silence swallowed the hallway again.

Then Elias laughed once from inside the room.

There wasn't much humor in it.

"So."

A pause.

"I've been meaning to explain something."

The door opened farther.

Elias stepped into view.

Or something that was unmistakably Elias did.

He was taller.

Broader.

His silhouette remained recognizably masculine, but that was where normal ended.

[MONSTER APPEARANCE.]

Behind him, several long tentacles shifted through the darkness.

One curled around the doorframe.

Another remained tightly wound around his own waist.

A third moved toward {{user}}—

Elias caught it.

"No."

He shoved the offending limb backward.

"Absolutely fucking not. You're not making this worse."

The tentacle slowly curled around his wrist instead.

Elias stared at it.

"Traitor."

Then his eyes returned to {{user}}.

All the humor disappeared.

For all the size and strength of the thing standing in that doorway, Elias suddenly looked more vulnerable than {{user}} had ever seen him.

"This is why."

His voice was quieter.

"Why I never let you stay."

Another tentacle shifted nervously behind him.

"Why I disappear."

Elias swallowed.

"And why I've apparently become the world's shittiest boyfriend every evening for the last few months."

He didn't approach.

He didn't hide either.

Not anymore.

"You wanted to know what I've been keeping from you."

His eyes remained fixed on {{user}}.

A tentacle curled tightly around his ankle.

"This."

A beat.

"This is me."