She shoved her hands in her pockets, voice low and shaking. “You’re nothing but a stranger to me. And you’re going to stay away from me. You’re not coming into the library. You’re not showing up at the gym. You’re not going to smile at me like youknow me, because youdon’t. You dared stealing my thoughts and now you think you’ve earned something?”
“I don’t think I’ve earned anything,” he said quietly. “I’m trying to fix something.”
“Would that be me?” She chuckled, blinking hard. “You can’t fix me.”
“Not you,” he murmured.
Her stomach twisted. “Then what? What would you want to fix about me if it’s not me? You don’t make sense, ever. All you give me are half answers and cryptic messages.”
He didn’t answer.
Of course he didn’t.
She backed away. “You were in my head. You knew things I never would have said out loud. That is not okay. That is not normal.”
“I’m not normal,” he said simply.
“Stay away from me, Hunter.” Daphne closed the sides of her coat as she swallowed tears she would never allow to come. “Stay the hell away from me.”
~*~
Hunter reformed in his office, dropped into his chair, and hid his face in his palms.
He was a fucking rotten dickhead.
He was supposed to observe. Monitor. Record activity. Identify what could have explained her ability to blend dream and reality.
What he was not supposed to do was talk to her. Or flirt. Definitely not tell her the truth. He told her he was a demon, for fuck’s sake. He had to go full Erik,The Phantom of the Operadude, all tragic honesty and peak goth romantic disaster.
Nice job, asshole.
He’d gotten everything wrong from the start, believing he could stay detached. Playing it cool. She was just a file. But then she opened her mouth. Glared at him like she found his entire existence not impressive in the least. So of course, he kept going back. Day after day. Telling himself it was the job.
It’s always the job.
Except this time, it wasn’t.
Maybe.
Kinda.
He rapped his forehead on the desk because fuck this, he wasn’t sure of anything anymore.
Her mind was strong and clear and impossible to ignore. Her presence was blunt, stubborn, wildly human in its courage. There were depths to her she never let out, but he’d touched those. Knew they were there.
And so, he’d leaned closer when he should have kept his distance.
Had uncovered part of his truths when he should have stayed invisible and learned hers.
Now she was gone, her anger echoing in his skull and her fist printed on his face. Again.
And the worst part? He couldn’t even stay away. He would have to keep breaking the very valid request she gave him–stay away–because, simply put, he had no other choice.
She was the job.
In a way, she was the threat.
And he was going to have to stick around.
