"You manipulated me."

"No, no, I didn't - I didn't do that. Don't say that. Tristan, I need - I need to talk to you, okay?"

Tristan was fuming. After their exhilarating spring break full of make out sessions and other shenanigans, he couldn't believe that Miles was capable of pulling such a stunt. Or could he? Not even one year had gone by and he already witnessed the lengths that this boy would travel to get whatever he wanted. For instance, that time Miles framed Zig to keep him from Maya at the semi-formal by planting the drugs in his locker. He always made everything about him, and frankly Tristan decided that he deserved better.

But there was quiver in Miles' voice that kept his feet planted on the ground even though he had the urge to run to the back of the classroom and hide behind Zoë and Winston. A vulnerability that almost went over his head all together because the mere idea of the cool and confident Miles Hollingsworth falling apart was absolutely absurd. It was a tremor that suggested that something was definitely not right.

Taking a deep breath, he turned around, but did not meet his gaze as a part of him wasn't even sure why he was still bothering at this point. He latched on to Miles' wrist and quickly tugged him along until they arrived at the locker room. Once inside, he was dead set on demanding for an explanation.

But Tristan realized that he didn't need one when he took a good look at the boy standing in front of him, and that was enough to clear his head from the rage. First off, Miles was incredibly stiff with his arms glued to his sides and his fists in tight balls. He looked so lost. However, what truly caught Tristan off guard was his face. His eyes, usually lively with mirth or mischief depending on the scenario at hand were dull and had lost its spark. The rosiness found in his cheeks was drained out. There was something very grey about his features and that was when Tristan knew that Miles had a problem that was much more serious than what he could handle by himself.

For the first time in his life, Tristan had never witnessed anyone looking so colourless.

All of the hurt that he felt a minute ago evaporated and he instinctively raised his hand to cup Miles' face who automatically leaned his cheek into the palm in return, desperately seeking a kind touch. Tristan watched him close his eyes and let of a shudder that seemed to be a mix of pain and relief. Not daring to remove his hand in fear that Miles would crumble, he simply moved in closer and wrapped his other arm tightly around his shoulders to bring him closer into a hug. That was when Miles pressed his eyes against Tristan's shoulder and the blond was startled when he felt the moisture of tears seeping through his shirt.

"You can always talk to me," Tristan whispered in his ear.

With those words, he collapsed in his arms and let out a sob. Tristan's heart went out to him, and he couldn't have been more grateful for his decision of not turning his back on Miles when he needed him the most.