CHAPTER ELEVEN

The tension in the air felt almost unbearable as Kit paced down the hallway, her mind racing. She had tried everything—cornering Lysander every chance she got, waiting for him after his classes, even leaving subtle messages for him to meet her—but the Ravenclaw had made it his mission to avoid her entirely. Each failed attempt left her feeling more frustrated and despondent.

Lysander, for his part, wasn't angry—at least, not with Lorcan. His twin's involvement in the plan didn't bother him as much as the situation with Kit. And yet, he couldn't bring himself to face her. It wasn't that he didn't want to hear her side; it was that the thought of sitting down and exposing the raw, vulnerable parts of himself made him feel like a storm was raging inside his chest. Vulnerability was something he had never handled well.

"Lysander!" Kit's voice echoed down the corridor, jolting him out of his thoughts. Panic surged through him as he instinctively ducked into one of Hogwarts' many hidden passages, pressing his back against the cold stone wall.

"You bloody coward!" he heard Kit mutter under her breath, her voice tinged with a mix of anger and sorrow. The sound of her footsteps faded as she stomped away, leaving Lysander to exhale in shaky relief. He peered cautiously out of the passage, only to find himself face-to-face with Lorcan.

Lorcan stood there with his arms crossed, a look of pure exasperation etched across his face. "You are the absolute worst, Lysander," he seethed.

"Now's not the time for your voice of reason, Lorcan," Lysander muttered, trying to brush past him, but Lorcan grabbed his robes, yanking him back with surprising force.

"You gave me a chance to explain myself, but you won't give her the same courtesy?" Lorcan's voice rose, his frustration spilling over. "You're such a coward!"

"What do you want me to say?" Lysander snapped, pulling against his twin's grip.

"I don't need you to say anything. I need you to stop running away," Lorcan shot back, tightening his hold. "I know you, Lysander. You're not avoiding her because you're hurt about the plan. You're avoiding her because you're scared."

Lysander froze, his heart pounding in his chest. "What—what are you talking about?" he stammered, his voice defensive. "I'm not scared."

"Oh, spare me the act," Lorcan said, his tone cutting. "What are you so afraid of?"

"I told you, I'm not—"

"Lysander!" Lorcan roared, his patience snapping. "Tell me. What are you afraid of?"

"I'm afraid of her seeing the weakling that I am, alright?!" Lysander's voice cracked as the words burst out of him, unbidden. His shoulders slumped as tears welled in his eyes. "I can't let her see that part of me. She needs someone strong—someone who can be there for her. I promised Cato I'd be that person, but I can't. I can't be the strength everyone wants me to be."

For a moment, silence hung between them, broken only by Lysander's ragged breathing. Lorcan released his grip, stepping back as his expression softened. "You're such an idiot," he muttered, shaking his head.

Lysander pressed a hand over his face, trying to hide the tears that wouldn't stop falling. "You don't understand—"

"No, I do," Lorcan interrupted, his voice quieter but no less firm. "Tell me this: has Kit ever asked you to be strong for her?"

Lysander hesitated, his hand falling away from his face. "No," he admitted softly.

"And did Cato ever ask you to be strong for her?"

Another pause. "No."

"Then why are you doing this to yourself?" Lorcan asked his tone almost pleading. "The only person demanding that you be strong is you. This 'everyone' you keep talking about? It's just an excuse you're using to avoid facing your own feelings. You always tell me it's okay to show emotions, to be vulnerable—but you can't follow your own advice. Why?"

"Because Cato did," Lysander said, his voice trembling. "Cato was strong. He always knew what to say, what to do. He never let fear control him. He believed in me, Lorcan. He believed I could be the one to support Kit when he couldn't anymore."

Lorcan sighed, placing a hand on his twin's shoulder. "You're putting Cato on a pedestal he never wanted to be on. He wasn't perfect, Lysander, and he didn't expect you to be, either. Kit doesn't need you to be strong. She doesn't want you to stand in front of her like a shield—she wants you to stand beside her."

Lysander looked up, his eyes red and glassy. "What makes you so sure?"

"Because," Lorcan said with a small, knowing smile, "why else would she be trying so hard to make things right? Why do you think she feels so guilty about the plan? It's not because she wanted to trick you—it's because she cares. And you've always cared about her too, even when you were just kids. You're the one who's been cheering her on all this time, not because you had to, but because you wanted to."

"But Cato—"

"Cato did what any brother would do," Lorcan interrupted gently. "But you? You've been there for Kit in ways no one else could be. And that means something."

Lysander's gaze dropped to the floor, his thoughts swirling in turmoil. "What do I do now?" he asked quietly.

Lorcan stepped back, his expression softening. "Only you can answer that," he said. "But you'd better figure it out soon before you lose the chance." With that, Lorcan turned and walked away, leaving Lysander alone with his thoughts.

For the first time, Lysander felt the weight of his fears begin to shift, like a heavy mist clearing from a long-obscured path. Lorcan's words echoed in his mind, not just as his twin's voice of reason but as a reflection of truths he had stubbornly refused to see. Each step he had taken away from Kit wasn't just an escape—it was a retreat into the fortress he'd built around his heart, where fear and doubt reigned.

He leaned back against the cold stone wall of the hidden passage, his fingers running through his hair as his chest heaved with the remnants of his emotional outburst. The silence around him seemed louder now, charged with the unspoken questions he had avoided for so long. What did Kit really see in him? Did she see the same flawed, fearful person he saw when he looked in the mirror—or did she see something more?

The thought sent a shiver through him, not of fear but of possibility. Perhaps Lorcan was right. Maybe Kit didn't need him to be the unshakable pillar he thought she deserved. Maybe she simply wanted someone who wouldn't leave, who would stand beside her even when things felt impossible. And wasn't that what he had always wanted to do for her?

Lysander pushed himself off the wall, his resolve hardening with each passing second. He thought about Kit's determination, the fire in her eyes even when she was angry or hurt. He thought about the moments when she had trusted him with her pain, how she had let him see the sides of herself she hid from others. Those moments weren't about strength—they were about connection. They were about trust.

As he stepped out of the passageway, his pace quickened, each step carrying him closer to the decision he knew he needed to make. He wouldn't run anymore. Not from Kit, not from his feelings, and not from the fear that had held him captive for so long. It was time to face her, to hear her out, and to show her the parts of himself he had been so desperate to hide.

Because if there was one thing he knew now, it was that Kit was worth it. She always had been. And maybe, just maybe, he was worth it too.