Page 126 of The Mourning Throne
Something subtle.
It rewired the brain in a way you didn’t always notice until afterward—until the quiet started to feel loud and the loud started to feel normal.
Morgan knew the symptoms. The signs. He’d grown up inside them.
Most people thought you just bounced back.
Smile more. Get out more. Stop being upset.
It’s not as bad as you’re making it out to be.
But those were all falsities.
Lex was testament to that.
He was trying. Trying to hold it together. Trying not to be obvious.
The disconnect was there, though. The hesitation.
Morgan didn’t push. He opened his door. Closed it gently.
And Lex followed, slower than usual.
“What’re we gonna do with him?” Lex asked in the elevator. His head rested against Morgan’s, the weight of it familiar. Comfort clinging by a thread.
Morgan kept his eyes on the numbers ticking up above the doors. The flickering green glow cast soft shadows against the mirrored walls. Lex’s hair caught the light—golden and tangled in Morgan’s periphery.
“Luggage rack,” he murmured.
He didn’t ask if Lex wanted to record. Didn’t ask if he had a destination in mind or if there something specific he wanted Morgan to do. Lex usually had suggestions. Multiple suggestions. Something theatrical. Something twisted up in blood and grins.
But not today.
Morgan would handle it. All of it. He always had.
The logistics didn’t matter. Getting Ollie’s body out, wiping the suite, keeping them clean—those were easy parts. Steps he could follow in his sleep, if the need arose.
His only concern now was Lex.
Lex, who kept rubbing his face in Morgan’s hair. Who hadn’t mentioned putting Ollie in new, funeral lingerie. Who gripped his hand tighter than usual, like it would keep him from thinking too hard again.
He wouldn’t let the thoughts start.
One more terrible thing—that would be the breaking point. The moment Lex stopped coming back at all.
Morgan would hold the weight of this for both of them. For as long as it took.
Even if Lex never asked him to.
“Have you seen my phone charger?” Lex asked.
“By the bed.”
Lex sighed. “It’s not. I already looked there.”
Morgan dropped the pants he was folding into his suitcase. He crossed over to the nightstand—the side where Lex slept—and pulled it back.
The charger had fallen loose, brick and cord separated and laying on the floor.
