I almost made it.
“Running away again, I see,” he muttered under his breath.
I froze. Every muscle in my body went rigid as those words carved themselves into my spine.
Slowly, so slowly, I turned to face him.
“What did you just say?”
Varyth’s jaw tightened. “You heard me.”
“Running away?” The words came out strangled, caught between disbelief and fury. “I’m not—I was giving you space. I thought that’s what you wanted.”
“Right. Space.” His laugh was bitter, humourless.
“What exactly is your problem?” I demanded, taking a step toward Varyth instead of away from him.
“You ran the second you woke up. Barely said a word. Didn’t even look at me.”
“That’s not—” I broke off, fists clenching at my sides. “You know what? Fuck you.”
His eyebrows shot up. “Excuse me?”
“You heard me.” I stepped forward, closing the distance between us until I could feel the heat radiating off his skin. “You don’t get to act like I’m the problem here. Like I’m the one running when you?—”
“When I what?” His voice dropped lower, dangerous. “When I let you sleep in my bed? When I held you through your nightmares?”
“Stop.” I snapped. “Just stop.”
“Why?” He leaned in, and gods, he was too close. “Does it bother you? Hearing it out loud?”
“Yes.” The word ripped out of me before I could stop it. “Yes, it fucking bothers me because you’re acting like you did me some grand favour when I never asked for any of it.”
His face went hard. “Right. Of course. How could I forget? You don’t need anyone.”
“That’s not what I?—”
“Isn’t it?” He cut me off. “Because from where I’m standing, it looks an awful lot like it. That between us?—”
“There is nothing between us.” The lie tasted like ash on my tongue.
“Finally, something we agree on.” The words were flat. Cold. “It was nothing. A mistake, if you’d stopped running or interrupting me for two seconds, you might’ve figured that out.”
I forced myself to laugh, the sound brittle.
He crossed his arms, his expression carved from stone. “You think I make a habit of letting people into my bed?”
“I think you make a habit of being an asshole.”
“And I think you make a habit of assuming the worst of everyone around you.” His eyes were ice now. “Must be exhausting, constantly looking for reasons to push people away.”
“Maybe I wouldn’t have to if people stopped trying to—” I broke off, fists clenching at my sides.
“Stopped trying to what? Care about you?” He laughed, and it was a cruel sound. “Don’t worry, Isara. Lesson learned.”
“Good.” The word came out vicious. “Glad we’re on the same page.”
“Wonderful. So you can stop acting like I’ve wronged you somehow.”
