Imagine a strong tower, built with the most durable materials that stood strong for years, crumbles down in front of you.

That strong tower has always been his mother; her unwavering courage to face the struggles in front of her. That's how Dallon always saw his mother.

But now, all he sees is his mother's crumbled form; pale skin that shows signs of illness, her once beautiful hair begins to disappear. Her lips are chapped and white, erasing the once lively color of her rose tinted lips. The eyes that used to burn with passion are now closed.

He hates how the colorless walls of her hospital room made her belong there. He hates hospitals. He hates seeing his mother like this.

Not even the colorful variety of flowers could destroy the lifeless ambience of his surroundings. It makes his skin crawl.

He hates it so much.

****

"Dallon, dear?"

Dallon snaps out from his trance, feeling the warmth from the hand of Brendon's mother on his own. He can see the resemblance of the younger man to his mother. Even the eyes have the same warmth.

"Your hand is shaking. Are you okay?" She asked gently, as if she's easing a child on the verge of breaking down. Honestly, it's not so far from the truth. But she can't know that being in the room makes it feel like the walls are closing in on him, so he gives her a strained smile.

"I-I'm fine." Dallon responds almost inaudibly, hands fidgeting to distract himself.

Brendon's mother obviously doesn't believe him, but Dallon still smiles at her. "How are you feeling? You're not sick?"

"Oh, It's just fatigue. Don't worry, dear." She says in amusement, waving off Dallon's concern. "I'm stronger than I look."

Parents always lie when they don't want their kids to worry. He wants to believe it. He really wants to make sure Brendon's mother is okay.

And here she is, sitting on her bed, her skin pinkish with health, her eyes sparkling and her hand is warm and soft; in contrast to the flashbacks of loosing hair, thinning body, pale skin, hands cold and eyes losing their shine.

She's not sick. She's healthy and okay. No one will die. It's not going to happen. Thank goodness. He sighs in relief knowing that she's fine. He knows he can't take it if it happens again.

"Dallon?" Upon realizing that his eyes were closed, he opens them to see the concerned look of Brendon's mother. "Should I call a doctor for you?"

How ironic, really. She's the one in the hospital bed, but he's the one who feels sick. He shook his head weakly, trying his best to ease her concerns.

"Don't worry about me, m-ma'am."

"Grace. You can call me Grace."

Just like her aunt. What a coincidence. But somehow, it makes him feel a bit better, having to call her a name that's nostalgic to the feeling of home.

"I-I hate hospitals." He mumbles in an almost silent admission, but in a way where he's sure Grace can hear.

"Oh dear. You didn't have to come here if it makes you  uncomfortable."

Dallon shook his head, feeling the warmth of Grace's palm squeezing against his shaking hand. "If it's for Brendon, I-I don't mind."

"Does Brendon know about this?"

"He doesn't h-have to. It's no problem at all—"

And there, he finds himself being wrapped around in someone's arms. His height doesn't make him feel like he's in comfortable position, but the hug from a solid figure makes him forget about it.

Having a person hug you who you only met today is a weird feeling. But it's not unwelcomed. He came to realize how much he yearned for a mother's care and affection. Even if Grace wasn't his mother, he still felt the things when he remember his mother; warm, calming, safe.

"I miss my Mother." Dallon mumbles against her shoulder, his voice cracking. He doesn't want to cry. Well, he tries not to cry, as much as he tries to stop it. "I-I'm sorry."

Grace shushes him, running her soft hands on his back as a comforting gesture. "It's fine. It's fine. Let it all out. Tell me about your mother."

So, he does.

It's nice, having someone listen to you. He just never bothered telling all his bottled-up feelings to others. They don't need to hear his sad excuse of a life.

"It's okay to grieve, it's okay to cry." Grace says earnestly with a soft voice, soothing him gently. "You cry because you love her, and there's nothing to be ashamed of that. Never be ashamed of loving someone."

Dallon can't tell why those words sounded so reassuring to him at that moment. He never did mind crying. He never thought it was a weakness. But he wasn't comfortable of others seeing him cry because he never wanted others to carry the burdens that he already shoulders.

It really was a nice feeling, having someone willing to share that heavy emotions than keeping them inside.

Grace listens fondly as he told her all about his mother. She's a fighter; never backing down at the challenges that she has to face. He's not like his mother, he was more like his father, actually. Jordan personality just reminds him of his mother sometimes.

"She raised you well. I kinda envy her." Grace sighs, then shook her head affectionately. "It would be nice if Brendon wasn't such a stubborn boy sometimes."

"I think you raised him really well." Dallon adds, smiling at her as he blinks away the tears in his eyes. "I'd say you're very lucky to have a son who will never trade the people who are important to him."

Dallon worries that he might have said the wrong thing to Grace when she didn't react to what he said. But eventually, her lips morph into a beautiful smile, much reminiscent to Brendon's.

"I sure do."

They continue talking. Grace asked about his life, and Dallon didn't hesitate to tell her, even if he isn't a wealthy as they are. He's around of who he is and how he lived his life. If he hadn't met Brendon, he never would have said those words.

Brendon's mother doesn't seem to mind that he doesn't have enough. She seems happy about it, actually.

"I've never seen him so happy before. When I saw him again, he told me about you and how both of you met." Grace mentions fondly, then turn to Dallon with a cheeky grin. "That's when I knew, he became a lot happier when he met you. He even told me he likes you. A lot."

He thought he could have gotten used to people stating Brendon's feelings for him but he still finds it unbelievable. Keeping his blush from becoming too evident is not possible when it happens each time.

"T-That goes the same to me." Dallon begins, swallowing the nervous lump in his throat. "I-I feel like I can do anything when h-he's with me. He makes me feel stronger, he makes happy."

"You like him too."

Dallon nods with a genuine smile. "I truly do."

A knock from a door caught their attention, revealing Sarah with some coffee and pastries for them. Dallon likes their little gathering as all three of them share stories. He's also relieved that the important people in Brendon's life seem fine to have him around.

Eventually, Brendon joins them. Dallon gauges from the younger man's expression that his talk with Ryan didn't end up as bad as he thought. The younger man was smiling brightly as he joined their little chatter.

In the middle of Sarah's story about the girl she met, Dallon turns to Brendon who was listening halfheartedly at his best friend's story. Brendon was staring at him with an unreadable expression, and not subtly, in fact.

Dallon feels his cheeks become warm, then swiftly turns away from the younger man's gaze. Blindly, he reaches for Brendon's hand, not seen by the others and places his palm on top of Brendon's for compensation.

In his peripheral vision, he could see Brendon look down at their hands with a small smile. He could feel the younger man shift his hand and intertwines their hands, just right where it fits.

And everything really did fit in place.

****

After hearing Ryan's explanation, he thought about how immature he is. None of them wanted to break their relationship off. It's just that there are some things that didn't go their way. If there's one thing that he's relieved about, it's that Ryan really did love him in the end.

"Dallon promised me he'll take care of you for me. And I know he will."

If things were different, would it still be them against the world, here in this very cafe? Probably. But Brendon would agree that they didn't end up badly than he thought. Even if they weren't happy in each other's arm, both of them are happy with the people who they now value and love.

"We're still friends, right? We can still be friends?"

He knows that some relationships that end never really had good closures. But as Brendon shakes Ryan's hand, gesturing an agreement, he's glad to say that his ended up better, thank goodness.

"Look out for Dallon too, okay? He reminded me of you, when you're anxious." Ryan adds. "Finding him hyperventilating in a bathroom is not a good sight, you know?"

It alarmed him to hear that from Ryan, but Ryan raises a hand to calm his frantic worrying. "It was the night you confessed to him, at that cafe. I was there. But he's okay."

If only he can calm Dallon's anxieties. He wish he could have done so. He knows he can't be there for Dallon all the time, and Dallon can't always be there for him.

"But you two will be okay, you know? You're happier with him, Brendon. And I know you make him happy too. You two will be okay, I know it."

They will both experience pain and hurt in the future. Both of them will go through a lot of things. Brendon dreads for that some times. But what if it works out, right? If one of them has a problem, they face it. It will work out.

It will.

****

Brendon barely noticed that it was almost night time, as he gazed at the window. They had so much fun chatting, he didn't notice the time.

He just knew his Mom would adore Dallon a lot. Brendon smiles fondly as they watch two of the most important people to him talking about cooking recipes.

His hand is still intertwined with Dallon's. Just the sight of their hands together warms him, feeling like a teenage girl at prom night. Sarah even gave him a knowing look at their hands together. All he could do is return the have with a dumbstruck grin. He still can't believe it.

Has everything fallen to place without him noticing?

A knock from the door caught all of their attention, and the sight of the visitor just indicates that it's too good to be true.

"Boyd?" His mother greets the man standing at the door way.

Brendon closes his eyes, trying to control his breathing. He opens them again, trying his best not to snap at his father just by the sight of him.

"Hey, Mom. I think Dallon and I need to go." He informs his mother with a forced smile, not even giving a glance at his father.

"Brendon—"

"We still have work in the morning so we really have to go, Mom." Brendon interjects as he stood up, kissing his mother on the cheek. "Bye."

He didn't even bother acknowledging the calls as he kept walking. He still felt so betrayed at his father's choices.

Brendon doesn't know if he could forgive his father. Not now, probably not ever.

****

[A/N: such a straightforward chapter in my taste, but I hope it wasn't too bad. I'm just relieved I finished this now.

(Oh and look at the flower pic above!! I got myself a cool camera and took that pic! Isn't it cool??)

99% sure this isn't my best chapter. 1% sure I liked it despite that.

Thank you for reading this and apologies for the mistakes!]