But I didn’t make it.
Because he was already there.
Behind me.
His body closed in, pressing me into the bookshelf until there was nowhere to go, his presence wrapping around me like a snare. One hand pressed to the shelf beside my head, the other I didn’t see—I felt—hovering near my hip
My palm, still touching the book spine, felt like it no longer belonged to me. It was too heavy to move, as if the blood had thickened inside it. My heartbeat turned violent, ramming against my ribcage.
Not loud. Not fast.
Violent.
“Slow down,” he whispered, voice as dark as the hour before death. “I can feel your heartbeat.” His breath brushed the shell of my ear.
I closed my eyes. Just for a second. Just to feel him.
It was foolish, how my knees wanted to buckle. How I wanted to sink into him like he was the only gravity I knew.
But no.
No, no, no. He didn’t get to do this.
Not after vanishing all day. Not after leaving me alone in the wake of a near-death. What kind ofhumanleft a girl with questions concerning her safety, vanished for the whole day, then came back to corner her like he was entitled to her body, her space, her air?
Hot and brittle rage trembled beneath my skin. Strength found me, and I moved to shove my elbow backward at his stomach, but it was like striking a wall.
He didn’t move.
I tried again, harder. “You don’t get to come back like this,” I hissed, my voice barely louder than a breath.
“You think I ever left?” His words rasped too close as his breath inched towards the column of my neck, his body pressing deeper into my back, fitting so tightly it felt like a lock clicking into place.
I bit down hard on my lip, trying to tether the anger, because if I didn’t, I would crumble into him like ash. I shoved my elbow into his stomach, hoping it’d knock some sense back into both of us. But he didn’t budge. Not even an inch. His body was iron and stone and the exact weight of every thought I’d tried to banish since this morning.
Gritting my teeth, I drew my arm forward and shoved it back again, harder this time.
“One second.” He caught my elbow, his fingers locking around it an inch from impact. The contact sent a ripple through my skin, goosebumps breaking out, scattering over my body like panicking ants.
My heart stalled at the sound of that tone, then stuttered into motion, beating too fast and loud.
“Please,” he whispered again, softer this time, so soft it nearly broke something in me. “Just give me a moment.”
His face dropped into the crook of my neck.
And I—
I didn’t move.
I couldn’t.
I didn’t know if I was frozen from shock or because some part of me didn’t want to stir him.
His breath warmed my skin. His body, once predatory, felt desperate now, like he was seeking and reaching for something. But why? Why was he suddenly acting like this? Why did it feel like his entire world was breaking and he needed to catch a breath before going back to the ruin?
I closed my eyes, shutting out my curiosity. I didn’t want more questions. I already had a bucket full of them. So I let my other hand drop from the shelf and tilted my head just enough to make him lift his face.
“What do you mean you never left?” I murmured. “Why are you here? Why are you doing this?” I turned my head forward, facing the spines of the books as I added, “How did you find me? And don’t you dare say I’m easy to predict.”
