Burn For Me

Chapter 20
Kieran – Age 19

Sophomore year had crept in quietly, like it was daring me to keep up. No fanfare. No reset.

Just consistent pressure behind a closed door, waiting to see if I'd crack.

My muscles burned with every pull of the stacked weights, but not in a way that made me want to quit. No. It was the kind of sharp ache that fueled you. That settled deep, low, and hot. That reminded you what it felt like to push past your limits.

The kind of searing heat that made your veins pump hotter made you grit your teeth and go harder because you knew you were still alive.

And for me, that burn was addicting.

It was a feeling I craved more than I wanted to admit—something I could control when the rest of my life was a mess I couldn't.

Different me, same grind.

I adjusted my grip on the barbell, letting the weight settle heavy in my calloused palms before I drove it back up again. My biceps flexed, and slick sweat slowly slid down my temples. The clang of metal echoed through the concrete walls, a steady rhythm that helped drown out the noise in my head.

The weight room was nearly empty this early in the morning. Just me, the iron in my hands, and the quiet that came with it.

It was my second year here, and by now, this place felt more like home than the house I grew up in ever did.

Sophomore year had already proven to be a slow-burning new chapter in my life.

Though nothing had exploded or fallen apart—yet.

Now... Julian was here, too.

I glanced at the scars on my left hand as I racked the barbell, flexing my stiff fingers out of habit. The skin had healed mostly, but there were still faint lines across my knuckles and the back of my hand.

It was a constant reminder of what I had done and of why he was here.

Because I made damn sure of it.

And yeah, maybe he resented me for it sometimes.

But at least I could sleep at night knowing he was safe.

And still, there were mornings, like this one, when my hands would tremble just slightly as I reached for the bar again. Not from exhaustion, but from everything I kept buried under the surface.

From everything I wasn't letting myself feel.

I made a decision last year. A hard one. But it was one I was sticking to. I pushed my feelings for Julian down. Buried them somewhere deep and dark where they couldn't fuck up the best thing we had going.

Our friendship.

So, I busied myself with structure, routine, reps, and silence.

Football was good. The team was stacked this season. Classes were manageable.

Thankfully, my schedule was full enough to keep my thoughts from drifting too far for too long.

And Julian was well... Julian, but not quite the same Julian. If that made sense?

Like the core of him was still there. Kind, thoughtful, and quietly intense, but the raw edges of him had shifted. Hardened.

He still lived with me. Still took up most of the space in my head, no matter how hard I tried to shove him out.

Some days, I wondered if he even realized what he was doing to me just by existing in my orbit.

Over the summer and with some help from Gramps, we'd moved into a decent two-bedroom apartment off-campus. It was nice, a little rough around the edges, but it was ours.