Love In The Gray

"Do you feel it too?" Aiden's voice was so low that Tristan barely heard him, but the words sent a shiver down his spine.

As Aiden moved even closer, he blinked several times, taking another step back to put more space between them. A smirk hinted at the corners of Aiden's silver eyes and caused the skin around his lips to crinkle. He advanced one step forward, then another, until he'd pressed Tristan against the wall with nowhere left for him to go. Tristan's Adam-apple bobbed as he swallowed hard and tried not to meet Aiden's gaze.

"Or is it just me?"

Tristan's breath caught as Aiden's fingers brushed his, the contact lingering longer than it should have. They were standing too close-closer than brothers should-but neither of them made a move to create space. The heat between them was undeniable in a way that felt dangerous, like standing too close to a flame that could either warm you or burn you alive.

Suddenly the power went out, but their faces were still visible thanks to the soft glow of an automatic lamp illuminating the room.

"Aiden, we shouldn't..." Tristan started to speak but Aiden moved swiftly, caging him against the wall.

"Why don't you find out if it's just me," Aiden murmured, his voice barely above a whisper as he drew even closer. Their lips were almost touching. Tristan clenched his fists against the hem of his own shirt, bracing himself for what was to come.

Just as Aiden's lips met his, Tristan's eyes snapped open. He jolted awake, looking around the room frantically as if searching for any sign of Aiden. But it was just a nightmare, or so he hoped. To him, this wasn't a dream; it was a nightmare.

He ruffled his hair, a frown appearing on his forehead. He hadn't had time to dwell on his "nightmare" before his alarm rang out. With a sigh, he brushed the thought away and got out of bed, heading to the bathroom to get ready. As a final-year student, he had an 8 a.m. class to attend.

Once finished, he left his room in a pair of loose jeans, his dark brown hair styled neatly, and his backpack slung over one shoulder. When he entered the living room, he found his mom setting up the dining table.

"Tristan, you're up," she smiled. He simply nodded and started toward the door, but she quickly rushed over, grabbing his hand and pulling him to the table.

"Breakfast is ready," she insisted with another smile. Tristan sighed and reluctantly sat down.

His mom never listened, and it got on his nerves-most of the time, if not always.

He picked up his spoon and instead of eating, just pushed the food on the plate around with it, glancing at his wristwatch every now and then.

"You don't come home often enough. And you wouldn't have come even this time if I hadn't forced you yesterday." she said, pouting playfully as she shot him a mock glare.

Her gaze shifted to the stairs, focusing on Aiden's door. "You know Aiden's hopeless in the kitchen. I need to cook for him, and now I'll have to bring food to you boys at the dorm too..." The mention of Aiden's name made Tristan lose what little appetite he had.

"Is Aiden still asleep? Why didn't you wake him?" she asked, but Tristan stayed silent.

"I told you not to take anything he does to heart. You should be nicer to him. He's your-" Just as his mom was about to finish, her eyes landed on Aiden, who was already heading toward the door.

"Aiden, you should eat breakfast before going to class," Tristan's mom said, but Aiden didn't respond or even acknowledge her as he headed for the door. She knew she was the last person Aiden wanted to see, but she couldn't just ignore him.

"Aiden..." she called softly, and he finally turned to face her, his expression unreadable.

"I'm not hungry," he said but his stomach betrayed him, growling loudly. Even then, he refused to go near the dining table, let alone eat the food she had prepared.

Tristan stood up, adjusting his backpack, ready to leave. He disliked how his mom constantly tried to bond with Aiden when it was obvious he despised her. Tristan shared similar feelings of resentment towards Aiden too, but he couldn't bring himself to hate Aiden's father. His mother had been genuinely happy with him

"I won't be coming home on weekends anymore," Tristan announced.

"Why?" his mom asked, her gaze shifting to Aiden as well. "What about you, Aiden?"

"This is my dad's house," Aiden replied coldly, his eyes narrowing. "The people who don't belong here are you..." His gaze shifted to Tristan. "And your son," he added, his voice dripping with hatred as he stormed out of the house leaving them behind.

Tristan clenched his fists and shut his eyes, trying to control his anger.

"You're the older brother," his mom said softly, trying to calm him. "You should try to be more patient with Aiden. He'll come around eventually."

"I can't. I don't want to. And I hate that we're stuck sharing a dorm," Tristan shot back, before turning and walking out.

His mother let out a weary sigh, feeling helpless. It had been a full year since she and Tristan moved in with the Belltowers, yet Aiden remained closed off, refusing to accept her or her son. How long could someone carry such deep-seated hatred?

*****

Aiden wiped the sweat from his forehead, slinging his backpack over his shoulder as he headed to class with a few friends from the basketball club, spinning a basketball in his hands. His body still buzzed with leftover energy from the game, his mind set on getting through the last class of the day.

He liked basketball because it was one of the few things in his confusing life that he could make some sense of. However, as he neared the door of the classroom, he slowed down.

There he was.

Tristan.

The stepbrother he could barely stand, sitting in the back corner of the class with his face as serious as ever. Of course, Tristan was the face of Silverbound College: intelligent, successfully, and always in a position of authority. He was smart, yes, but his presence was more like an annoying shadow that followed Aiden wherever he went.

No matter how Aiden attempted to avoid him, Tristan was always right there, a walking, talking advertisement of all the mistakes that were made after the parents got married. To be in the same space, or share the same air as them was almost unbearable.

Aiden felt queasy when they made eye contact for a second and he quickly looked away. What was Tristan even doing in this class? He was a senior, he was in his last year of college. It didn't make sense.

"Isn't that Tristan?" Jefferson, one of Aiden's friends asked, squinting as he stared across the classroom. "What's he doing in the same class as us?" he asked.

Just the prospect of being in the same class with Tristan made Aiden's blood rise. It was the first time they would be in the same class, and he was certain Tristan was the one who planned it that way.

He hated Tristan. Hated how easily he got under his skin without even trying. Hated the constant tension between them at home, and hated that they had to share anything at all.

The bell rang, and Aiden slumped into his seat beside his friends, determined to focus on the class. But it was impossible. His mind kept drifting back to Tristan, sitting there like he owned the place. Having Tristan in the same room as him was enough to make Aiden's skin crawl with irritation. He tightly ground his teeth as the teacher spoke on and on without him really listening to anything.

Then he was suddenly distracted by a single announcement.

"So for this week's assignment, you are going to have your partner for the final project, senior with a junior," the teacher said while looking around the class.

Aiden sat up straighter and a wave of dread washed over him in his stomach. He looked around nervously, wishing the teacher would just pair him up with anyone in the class, literally anyone else.

The names were called out and his heart started beating until the teacher finally called his name.

"Aiden Belltower," she said, pausing as she looked at the paper before her. "You'll be working with... Tristan Roxley."

Aiden stood motionless, his two black eyebrows drawn together in disbelief.

"What?" he blurted out.

"You'll be paired with Tristan," the teacher repeated, her gaze locking onto him. "You didn't do well on the last test, so I basically pleaded with Tristan to join the class to assist you"

Aiden's brows furrowed even more as he fought the urge to cuss at the lady, who was standing barely ten meters away from him. This was his biggest nightmare come true; it was happening right before his eyes. He quickly glared at Tristan who sat up, a frown etched on his face too. The teacher had clearly left that part out when convincing Tristan to join.

"No," Aiden said sternly, his voice higher pitched than he wanted. "I'm not working with him. You need to change this, miss... whatever your name is."

The teacher tilted her head down and narrowed her eyes while folding her arms in front of her. "There's really no choice in the matter, Mr. Belltower. You're partners. Figure it out."

Aiden clutched the edge of his desk tightly his hands shaking as he did so. The universe seemed determined on making his life a living nightmare. He heard a mocking scoff from Tristan's direction, the sound grating on his nerves like nails on a chalkboard

This wasn't just bad. It was going to be the absolute hell. How had he ended up paired with Tristan, of all people?

Aiden angrily stormed out of the classroom, not responding to the lecturer's call. How was this even fair? Among all the seniors, he had to be paired with Tristan? That alone got on his nerves and he hated everything else about it too. In fact, it gave him a reason to drop this course-if only he could.

"Aiden?" He heard someone call after him but without turning back, he knew it would be one of his friends.

"You shouldn't have left class like that." Troy said, catching up with him. Aiden rolled his eyes and flicked his hand at the comment.

"But that's not my concern" Troy kept going, "What's up with you and Tristan?"

At that, Aiden suddenly turned towards him, the look on his face so deadly it could stop a heart.

"Don't ever, 'ever', mention that name near me again. '' Aiden said through tight lips. Troy only nodded and threw up his hands, not particularly bothered. That was Aiden's problem and he could deal with it however he wanted.

"So, what about today's game? You in?" Troy asked, trying to lighten the mood.

It did the trick. Aiden didn't respond but began to walk off towards the locker room, still furious. He needed time to try and relax before he blew a gasket.

****

Aiden gripped the basketball, his dribble harder than it needed to be, his teeth clenched with each bounce as he moved across the outdoor court. His mind was somewhere else, far from the game and consumed by one thought-Tristan.

If he had to partner with anyone in the class for this project couldn't it have been anyone other than his stepbrother? The guy had managed to annoy him since day one. They never even pretended to like each other. Now they were forced to work together.

"That bastard..." Aiden muttered, clenching his fist.

Without thinking, he flung the ball towards the net. It soared far past it but Aiden didn't care. His mind was too distracted. His friends who were standing a little distance away exchanged confused looks.

This wasn't like Aiden at all. They knew they didn't particularly like each other, but they never really understood why Aiden got so riled up about being paired with Tristan? They also had no clue why he hated him either since he never spoke of it.

Meanwhile on the other side of the court, Tristan was making his way towards the library. It was where he usually was seen in school; no doubt that was actually where he spends most of his time. Assigned president of the library council kept him busy enough but he wasn't bothered by it.

The library was one of the few places he could escape everything-including Aiden, who was only in his first year. Tristan walked with a steady, purposeful stride, ignoring the gazes of some of the female students that didn't stop gawking at him. It wasn't until someone called out his name did he stop.

"Hey, Tristan!"

He turned to see a girl approaching with a smile.

"Hey," he greeted her politely.

"Could you help me find that book you recommended? I couldn't find it yesterday," she asked, her smile widening. Tristan, known for his reserved politeness, nodded.

"Sure. It's in the fiction section, third row," he replied, pausing for a moment. "I can help you find it later if you'd like, or you can come with me. I'm on my way to the library now."

His voice was calm, even kind. The brief exchange was just long enough to hold him up, but he didn't seem to mind.

"Sure," she agreed, her smile growing even brighter at the thought of walking with him. Though Tristan rarely smiled at others, she was surprised to catch the faint hint of one on his face.

"I'm Catherine, a business administration major," she said. Tristan only nodded, figuring there was no need to introduce himself-everyone in the school already knew him.

By the time he resumed walking and reached the basketball court, Aiden had completely lost his patience. Without warning, he hurled the ball in Tristan's direction. He wasn't aiming at anything in particular-he just threw it as hard as his frustration allowed. But fate, or perhaps Aiden's anger, had other plans.

The ball flew straight at Tristan and hit him in the face with a loud thud. He stumbled backward, eyes wide with shock as sharp pain hit him. Moments later, he felt the warm trickle of blood running down his nose

"Oh no! You're bleeding," Catherine gasped. Tristan blinked in disbelief, his hand moving to his nose. He sighed, raising his head up to stop the bleeding.

Nearby students gasped, but Tristan barely heard them. All he could focus on was the pain and the blood that had now stained his shirt.

"Here," Catherine offered him a tissue, which Tristan took to stop the bleeding.

"Thanks," he muttered.

Aiden was momentarily surprised by what had just happened. He hadn't meant to hit Tristan, at least, not like that. For a split second, his lips parted, ready to shout something, maybe an apology. But as he watched Tristan clutch his bleeding nose, a strange sense of satisfaction washed over him. 'This wasn't so bad after all.'

A smirk appeared at the corner of Aiden's mouth. His frustration melted away, replaced by a twisted sense of relief and contentment.

'Maybe he deserved it,' Aiden thought, his anger turning into something darker. Without a second thought, he walked over to the spot Tristan was standing.

"Next time, watch your step, alright?" Aiden said, sounding quite sarcastic. Instead of offering help or admit the hit had been an accident, he bumped hard into Tristan's shoulder as he walked past, leaving his stepbrother standing there.

"That was so childish of him," Catherine said, ready to go after Aiden, but Tristan held her back.

"It's alright" he assured her.

"I'll take you to the clinic," she said, helping him with his backpack as they made their way there.

"What was that all about?" Aiden's friends wondered, staring at Aiden as he walked away, completely unbothered.

Aiden didn't look back. Even as he made his way to the dorm, yet another awful place he had to share with Tristan, the smirk turned in to an even wider grin. He didn't care about the basketball game anymore. All he knew was that, for the first time that day, he felt...well... good. The smirk never left his face as he disappeared from view.

*****

Later that evening, after leaving the library to their shared dorm, Tristan was welcomed by the sound of loud music emerging from the room. The dorm was a complete disaster. Clothes, both clean and dirty were carelessly tossed across the floor, some hanging off the edge of the bed, and spilling out of drawers that had clearly been yanked open without a care. There were also shoes scattered and more than four baskets had been thrown helter-shelter and were rolling on the floor having been used as goal posts and not returned back on their shelves.

And there in the middle of it all Aiden's jersey lay draped over the desk chair as a flag. He figured that this was not an accident. No, this was intentional. Another childish act in their never-ending fight of how to irritate the other.

Tristan exhaled as he stepped closer towards the panel to switch the music off. Aiden, who apparently had been sleeping with his eyes closed suddenly opened them the moment silence engulfed the room.

"What the hell's your problem?" Aiden barked, clearly annoyed. Tristan didn't respond, making his way to his bed and tossing his backpack down. Aiden let out an irritated laugh. If there was one thing that drove him crazy, it was Tristan's ability to act as if he didn't exist.

Without another word, Aiden stood and went to turn the music back on.

"Touch that speaker again, and I won't hold back," Tristan warned, his voice and expression deadly serious. He'd always been serious, but this time it was different, intense.

"What?" Aiden furrowed his brow, disbelief in his tone. Tristan shut his eyes, his hand rubbing at his temples as though trying to control his own frustration.

"Aiden, at first, I thought your behavior was just ignorance, immaturity, even. But now I see it's worse than that. You're not just ignorant; you're plain stupid and annoying."

"What did you just say?" Aiden took a threatening step forward, his fists clenched as he tried to hold himself back from throwing a punch.

"I know you can't stand me, and you know I can't stand you either. But everything you've been doing, picking fights, trying to get under my skin... it's funny. Shouldn't 'I' be the one doing that? After all..." Tristan paused, locking eyes with Aiden. "You're the one from a family of gold diggers."

Aiden's breath caught in his throat, his fists tightening even further. "What did you just say?"

"Remember what I told you months ago? Right before you started college?" He stepped closer, his voice dripping with venom. "Or did you already forget? Your mom dumped your dad when he went broke. I still don't know how he managed to force his way into my mom's life, but everyone knows the truth; He went after her for her money, plain... and simple."

Aiden didn't hesitate. His fist flew forward, connecting squarely with Tristan's face, landing a hard punch that shattered what remained of his already injured nose.

"Son of a b*tch!" Aiden sneered, throwing an even harder punch at Tristan before he could retaliate. Tristan shot him a deadly glare, struggling to keep his anger in check.

At this moment, he couldn't care less about being the older one. He had been holding back for months, trying to stay calm, but it wasn't working anymore. For too long, he had let Aiden do whatever he wanted, trying to act mature, but he was done with that now.

As Aiden swung at him again, Tristan caught his fist mid-air, using his free hand to throw a brutal punch that split Aiden's lip instantly.

But Aiden wasn't about to back down. The fight escalated, filling the dorm room with the sound of shattering glass, bodies slamming against walls, and labored breaths. Yet, no one stepped in to stop the madness.

Aiden suddenly landed a hard punch, knocking Tristan to the ground, blood trickling from his lips. Aiden wasted no time, grabbing Tristan's shirt, his fist clenched tightly.

"If you ever drag my dad into this again, I'll kill you, you bastard," Aiden shouted, the memory of his past flickering in his eyes. His knuckles pressed even harder into Tristan's jaw, making him cough up blood.

Tristan winced, searching for a chance to fight back-and he found one. He kicked Aiden hard in the ribs, sending him crashing to the floor.

Tristan stood and stormed toward Aiden. Without hesitation, he hovered over him and began landing punches to Aiden's face, one after another, no longer caring about the consequences.

He pulled his hands back, ready to strike again, this time clenching his fists tighter than before-one that could easily knock Aiden unconscious. Just as his fist was about to connect with Aiden's face again, the door suddenly flew open.

"Tristan!" his mother's voice cut through the room, filled with shock. He froze, fist still in the air, fury boiling inside him at the interruption. Taking advantage of the moment, Aiden shoved Tristan off, and both brothers staggered to their feet.

Brittany, Tristan's mother, stood frozen in the doorway, her eyes darting between her two bruised and breathless sons. Her face turned pale instantly.

Without wasting another moment, she strode toward Tristan, her expression full of disappointment and anger.

"What the hell are you doing?" she yelled. Before Tristan could answer, she slapped him hard across the face, intensifying the pain he already felt. His jaw clenched, his eyes brimming with tears as he bit down hard on his lip, struggling to hold back his frustration.

The slap didn't hurt as much as the truth behind it. What stung the most was knowing she always took Aiden's side, even though she knew how much Aiden despised them both.

"How could you, Tristan? Fighting with your younger brother like this? What's gotten into you? This isn't how I raised you. I'm so disappointed."

Tristan's face flushed with anger. He opened his mouth to defend himself, but no words came. He knew it wouldn't matter what he said-his mom had already made up her mind. To her, he was supposed to stay calm and take Aiden's nonsense just because he was two years older.

He watched as his mom shifted her attention to Aiden, whose lip was busted, blood trickling down his chin from a bleeding nose.

"Aiden, I'm so sorry," she said, reaching out to touch his injured lip. "Are you okay? Let me help-"

"Don't touch me!" Aiden snapped, jerking her hand away. His voice was sharp with anger, his eyes dangerously intense as he took a step back, his breathing becoming heavier, as if her concern only fueled his rage.

"Aiden, I didn't mean-"

"I don't need your pity!" Aiden shouted, his eyes glistening with unshed tears. Without another word, he stormed out of the dorm, slamming the door behind him with a loud bang.

Brittany sighed heavily, her shoulders slumping as she turned to face Tristan. Only now did she seem to notice the bruises on his face. She reached out, but Tristan turned his head away, stepping back.

"Don't," he said softly before leaving the room and heading to the bathroom. He heard his mother sigh again, but it didn't matter to him right now.

In the bathroom, he stripped off his shirt and stepped under the shower. Shouldn't his mom care about him too? Why was it always Aiden, even when he treated her so cruelly? He hated it.

He couldn't understand why their parents had gone through with the marriage, despite knowing how much they hated to be forced into this makeshift brotherhood. Nothing about it made sense.

And before he could stop himself, tears slid down his face, mixing with the water from the shower.

*****

"Whoever aces this test is banging that hottie from the cheerleading club" Troy sniggered, glancing between Jefferson and Kai. They were closer to Aiden than Sam and Colby, and all were teammates on the basketball team, currently hanging out at the court.

Kai scoffed and waved Troy off, unimpressed. "Colby had her in his bed last week. Trust me, she's nothing special, so you don't have to try so hard to ace that test. Not that you could anyway" he added, causing Jefferson, Colby and Sam to stifle their laughter.

Troy shot them both a glare but quickly brushed it off, grabbing a basketball from the rack. He effortlessly tossed it into the net.

"Where's Aiden, by the way?" Colby asked, glancing around the empty court. "He said he'd be here." The rest of the boys shrugged. Just as Troy was about to resume practicing, his phone buzzed in his pocket. He pulled it out and frowned at the screen. Another blank text from Aiden, something that only happened when Aiden was off sulking somewhere.

"He's doing it again," Troy muttered, holding up his phone to show the others.

"What's the deal this time?" Kai groaned.

"Isn't it obvious? It's probably about Tristan. Again," Sam replied, stressing the word "again." "Why is he still living with him when he hates the guy so much? I can't figure out what's going on in his head." A thought struck him, and he shot Troy and Kai a suspicious look. "You two know something, don't you?"

"What makes you think he's opened up to us about that?" Troy scoffed, holding the basketball under his arm as he walked over. "The guy doesn't even want to talk about it. If he did, maybe we could help him figure something out." He shrugged.

"He's probably sulking and drinking himself stupid," Troy sighed. "Let's go find him." He took the lead, knowing nearly every spot Aiden might go to clear his head. As they left, Troy tried calling Aiden, but the call went unanswered.

*****

After 20 minutes of checking various clubs, both on and off campus, they still hadn't found Aiden. Troy decided to head to the last place he thought Aiden might be.

It took them fifteen minutes to reach their final stop. When they entered the slightly secluded frat house, they spotted Aiden in a corner, drinking heavily, a lit cigarette in his free hand.

As they approached, Jefferson took the cigarette from Aiden and dropped it in the ashtray, then pushed aside the three empty vodka bottles before sitting next to him.

"What happened to you?" Jefferson asked when he noticed the bruises on Aiden's face. "Is this about Tristan again?"

"That bastard..." Aiden slurred, a tear slipping from his eye. "Why would he mention that woman? Why would he call her my mom?"

His voice cracked, and the sight of Aiden crying left his friends stunned. It was the first time they had ever seen him like this, drunk and emotional.

"Should we take him home?" Troy suggested, looking between Sam and Jefferson, not sure if it was the right thing to do.

"I'll kill him... I swear, I really will," Aiden mumbled, his words filled with drunken rage. His friends exchanged shocked glances.

"Take him home? When he's literally talking about killing Tristan? How can you suggest that when they just had a fight?" Colby finally said.

"So what should we do with him, then?" Jefferson asked, equally at a loss.

******

"Tristan..." Brittany called softly, her voice cautious. She knew her earlier words had hurt him, and she didn't want to make him angrier.

Tristan shut his eyes tightly for a few seconds, then pushed his glasses down to the bridge of his nose as he looked away from his laptop, where he had been focused on studying.

His mother's worried expression made him sigh softly, already knowing the reason behind her concern.

"You didn't tell you were planning to stay the night," he said, turning his gaze away from her and back to his screen.

"I'm waiting for Aiden..." she said, causing his fingers to freeze on the keyboard. The mention of Aiden's name always got on Tristan's nerves especially when it came from his mother, but he decided to let it slide. Just this once.

"He'll come home. No matter how he leaves, he always comes back... It's nothing new. It's just how he is," he muttered, picking up one of the many textbooks piled on his study desk.

Brittany, though still unconvinced, slowly nodded. As the hours passed and it was 1 a.m., she stirred awake after having slept off while waiting. She glanced around, but there was still no sign of Aiden, just Tristan, still engrossed in his studies.

"He's not back yet?" she asked, sitting upright. Tristan inhaled deeply, his patience wearing thin.

"Can you please stop?" he snapped. "All you ever talk about is him. Why do you keep supporting someone who isn't even your real son?"

"But... he-"

"Mom, please," he cut her off softly, but firmly. "Stop. I'm trying to study here."

"Tristan..." she called his name again, and this time, he slammed the textbook down on his desk, his gaze darkening with frustration.

"Can't you, for once, be on my side? Stop making everything about him!" he shouted, finally losing control of his temper. Brittany flinched, shocked by the intensity of his outburst. She had never expected him to get so furious.