|Chosen by Fate|

Cecil "I was killed by debt collectors who were after my father in my past life and got a second chance to change my fate. I won't throw it away." Keith "I don't care that he is my childhood best friend. He is mine and he will always be mine. Even death won't take us apart. Literally..." Dylan "I never knew what love was until I met him. Ever since then, I can't take my eyes off him. For the first time in my life, I want someone. That someone being Cecil." --- "I don't know why you hurt yourself," I say quietly, meeting his eyes. "And I don't need to know unless you want me to." Cecil's breath hitches. "But please—" My voice cracks despite my best efforts. "Please don't harm yourself. It breaks my heart to see the person I love bleeding." The words hang in the air between us. The person I love. I hadn't meant to say it like that. Hadn't meant to confess yet. But it's out now, and I can't take it back. And honestly? I don't want to take it back. Cecil stares at me, his eyes wide, as if he didn't believe my words and wanted to make sure he heard them right. "You... what?" "I love you," I say, and the truth of it settles in my chest like coming home. "I have for a while now. And seeing you hurt—seeing you do this to yourself—it's killing me, Cecil." "You can't—" His voice breaks and he takes a few deep breaths. "You don't know what I am. What I've done. If you knew—" "Then tell me." I squeeze his hands gently. "Tell me everything. Or tell me nothing. It doesn't matter. I'll love you either way." Tears start sliding down his cheeks again. "You shouldn't." "Probably not," I agree. "But I do anyway." "Dylan—" "You don't have to say anything back," I say quickly. "I'm not asking for that. I'm just asking you to stop hurting yourself. Please." Cecil's hands shake in mine. "I don't know if I can," he whispers. The honesty of it breaks something in me. Maybe the illusion that he was fine. I was right in front of him yet I couldn't see the truth. "Then let me help you," I say. "Let me be here when it gets bad. Let me—just let me in, Cecil. Please." "I don't know how." "We'll figure it out. Together." He searches my face for something—doubt, maybe. Or pity. Or disgust.  But all I let him see is the truth. That I love him. That I'm here. That I'm not going anywhere. "Okay," he says finally, so quietly I almost miss it. "Okay?" "Okay. I'll... I'll try." It's not a promise. Not a guarantee. But it's something. And right now, that something is enough. ---