What Could Have Been [Thiam Rewrites]

Chapter 3: Not Quite Enemies Anymore

Liam woke in the middle of the night with his heart pounding in his chest. The scent of fear was thick in the air. He heard a shuffling noise—panic set in at the thought of an intruder in his house. If they'd come for him, for his family, for Theo—Liam reached for his phone in case he needed reinforcements and the screen lit up the room. Theo was crouched in the corner, rifling through Liam's bag.

"Theo, what the hell?"

Theo straightened slowly, his shoulders high and tight, and Liam could've sworn his eyes were shining. He held a set of keys in his hand.

"Just needed my keys," Theo said simply, but his voice was off—Liam switched on a light and set his phone down. The scent of fear wasn't coming from outside the house. It was coming from Theo, and he didn't need reinforcements for that.

Theo was already slipping out of Liam's room and down the hall, a bag slung over his shoulder. Liam hissed at him to stop, but the chimera ignored him. Liam slipped on sweatpants, not bothering with a shirt, and chased after Theo, but he didn't stop until Liam shouldered the truck door shut and barricaded his path.

"Get out of my way, Liam," Theo said, his eyes resting on the hood of the truck.

"No."

"Just because I saved your ass earlier doesn't mean I'll feel bad about kicking it now."

"I'd like to see you try."

Theo worked his jaw, a bitter smile turning up the corners of his lips. "We both know you couldn't take me."

Anger sparked in Liam's chest at the challenge—if it had been any other day and if he hadn't let two bullies beat him up earlier, he might have a better hold on his self-control—but he didn't.

And that was how Liam ended up ramming his fist into Theo's nose at three in the morning.

Theo staggered back, his yellow eyes flashing, drawing out Liam's own. It was only the whiff of fear, the sharp reminder that Theo must've woken from a nightmare, that stopped him from shifting.

"I jumped through hoops with my mom just to let you stay for a few weeks," Liam said, pointing at the dark house behind him, hoping that his parents were still sound asleep. "There are trigger-happy hunters out on the prowl and I know exactly how comfortable that guest room is, so what gives?"

Theo wiped the trickle of blood from his nose with his sleeve. "If we were friends, I might tell you."

That stung more than Liam wanted to admit.

"I don't give a shit if you want to get yourself killed, but I'd prefer it be me instead of a hunter," Liam growled, his anger getting the better of him.

Theo ducked his head, his hair falling into his eyes, and Liam felt a pang of regret at lashing out.

"And you wonder why I don't want to sleep in the room next to you," Theo said in a low voice. A shred of vulnerability peaked through his tough exterior. "At least I'm safe if I'm in my truck."

"You really think I'd slit your throat in the middle of the night?"

Theo shrugged. "You tell me."

Headlights illuminated the curve in the road beside Liam's house. He grabbed Theo's arm, hauling him from the ground and yanking him behind the truck bed where they couldn't be seen from the road. The car was driving too slowly—like it was patrolling, searching for werewolves out in the middle of the night.

When Liam glanced back at Theo, all traces of the vulnerability he'd seen there moments ago had vanished, his eyes wary as he studied the car, too.

"What if we call a truce?" Liam asked. "I won't try to kill you in your sleep, and you won't do anything stupid."