When Aster broke the ruby stud, he was prepared to suffer, but the tidal wave of heartache that crashed over him still caught him off guard. The earring never fully suppressed his feelings about what happened, but it made them feel distant, as if they happened a long time ago and he had since processed them.

He hasn’t processed shit. He locked everything away just days after it happened, and now it’s all still there, fresh and raw. Thoma's face when he asked Aster if he wanted to have a threesome with a girl. The wrinkle of his nose as he told Thoma that no, he didn’t want to, because he’s gay.

But with Quell in his system, it felt more important to make his boyfriend happy than to protect himself. All it took were a couple more gentle, teasing prods to turn his no into a reluctant yes.

What followed is harder to think about directly, but it assaults Aster in waves of unwanted sensory details. The cloying scent of her perfume. The alien softness of her skin. The sensation of her enveloping him while Thoma pushes inside, Aster trapped between their bodies. He gasps for air, feeling like he's suffocating. Why did Thoma put him in the middle? The details go fuzzy.

He remembers stumbling into a scalding shower afterward, barely registering the pain as his skin turned angry red. He remembers holding his breath until the world went black, waking up covered in bruises from the fall. He remembers desperately swallowing his entire supply of Quell.

Aster struggles to keep his breathing even. He knows Nash can tell something's wrong, but he can't help trying to conceal as much of his turmoil as possible. At least Nash seems to have accepted that Aster doesn't want to talk. Aster feels a little bad for making it so hard to get even the most basic answers out of him. Fortunately he’s already given Nash every reason to think he’s a complete brat, so it’s not like it came as a great shock that he might be unreasonable.

Aster does his best not to let his mind get sucked back to that room when he was seventeen, but it hardly matters. Even when he manages to quiet his thoughts for a moment, it feels like he's emotionally haemorrhaging. Like he's on the verge of vomiting up his entire soul.

When he does the mental maths, it's no wonder why. He's never faced these feelings fully sober. He was on Quell when it happened, then he overdosed, then his parents force-fed him more. He ran away and locked his pain in the ruby earring before the Quell had even worn off completely. His body is practically in fight-or-flight mode because, as far as his system is concerned, this trauma just happened. Or maybe he’s still caught in the middle of it, feeling the full brunt of the betrayal and violation that the Quell wouldn’t let him experience at the time.

The car crunches down a long driveway about twenty minutes later, and Aster still hasn't made much headway in processing his trauma. As he gets out of the car, he wraps the blanket tighter around himself and deliberately avoids Nash's gaze.

Nash's place is a two-story, older-style wooden house nestled in the woods. The kind of place it’s probably unwise to let a virtual stranger drag you back to, but Aster’s not sure he gives a fuck if he gets murdered right now. Besides, he's pretty confident he'd win in a fight. He's never killed anyone before, but he feels oddly prepared for the possibility.

Nash doesn't try to talk to him, but he keeps stealing glances with those big brown eyes of his. Despite being broad-shouldered and probably a good six and a half feet tall, Nash isn't intimidating. There's just something soft about him. Not weak or cowardly, but like he's all mushy inside. As if he'd feel guilty for so much as thinking an unkind thought about someone.

It makes Aster a little mad sometimes, but right now, it's the only thing keeping him from spiralling into a panic attack. He's safe here. Which means he should probably stop imagining scenarios where he has to fight Nash to the death. But he won’t.

One look at the solid wood furniture screams money, and the lingering scent of herbs and incense tells Aster a magic user lives here. He connects a few dots and asks from beneath his blanket cocoon, "Are you dating Niko?"

"Huh?" Nash looks genuinely confused. "No. We live and work together, but—no. I wouldn't..." He trails off, clearly not intending to finish that thought. Instead, he gestures towards a staircase. "I'll show you the guest room."

The room Nash leads him to is upstairs and down the hall. It boasts a single-slope exposed-wood ceiling, large windows overlooking the woods, and a neatly made bed. It’s damn fucking nice, but also a reminder that he and Niko come from similar stock. That, although Niko seems nice enough, Aster will have to keep an eye on him if he’s going to keep up this weird friendship with Nash. 

Nash hovers in the doorway, seeming reluctant to leave. “I’ll get you a new earring, okay?”

Aster collapses onto the bed with a dramatic sigh. "Yeah, you fucking will."

Any reasonable person would be about at the end of their rope with Aster’s rudeness by now, but Nash just straightens up, some of the woobiness leaving his eyes. He nods with renewed determination as he pulls out his phone. "Can you tell me about the earring?" he asks, perching on the edge of the bed. "Maybe I can find something similar."

A wave of cold resignation washes over Aster. This sweet little bitch buying him a guilt-driven replacement earring would be magically useless. There'd be no real sentiment behind it, and Aster doubts he could muster any of his own, given the circumstances.

Besides that, he’s still undecided on whether he actually wants to put the spell back in place. Part of him would do anything to escape these feelings, but maybe 'anything' includes actually suffering through them. The raw anguish he's experiencing now will pass, even if the memories never truly fade. And once he’s truly lived through this night, and the next few to come, they’ll be done. If he locks his feelings away again, the spectre of that pain will continue to hang over him.

Aster waves a dismissive hand. “I changed my mind. Don’t buy me an earring.”

Nash blinks, caught off guard. "Do you want something else?"

Aster fixes him with a blank stare. "I want you to go away now."

It’s way too mean, and Nash visibly winces, but his expression quickly smooths over. He pockets his phone as he stands. "My bedroom's at the end of the hall and the bathroom's in between. If you need anything..."

Aster nods curtly.

Nash nods back before leaving the room.

As Aster burrows into a nest of blankets, he almost regrets sending Nash away. Now he has no distraction, nothing to anchor him to the present. But maybe that's for the best. He's been running from his feelings for far too long. Now, it’s time to pay the price.