Maybe I should’ve stayed with one of them tonight.
Finn offered.
Atlas would’ve taken the couch without question.
And Kael...he didn’t offer out loud, but he didn’t have to.The way he positioned himself in the doorway, shielding the hall like he was redirecting the wind—yeah.He would’ve said yes if I asked.
But I didn’t want to look needy.
Didn’t want to be watched.
Didn’t want to pull them deeper.
And maybe a part of me wanted to prove I was still capable of being alone.
It just doesn’t feel good.
My eyes drift toward the window.It’s dark enough outside that the glass reflects the living room back at me.I move closer and tug the curtains to the side a couple inches.
Outside, the parking lot is still.Two cars, a dead streetlight, a layer of frost starting to form on the metal railings.No movement.No shadows.
That should help.
It doesn’t.
I let the curtain fall and step away.
My breath is uneven again.
I need a distraction.Anything.
I head to the freezer and pull out ice cream I don’t remember buying.I eat two bites standing by the counter, not tasting any of it.The cold reminds me of the rink.Of Kael skating alone under the bright center lights—he told me once that late-night skates are where he straightens out the world.
I wish I knew how to do that.
Straighten out the world.
Straighten out myself.
Another knock echoes from somewhere in the building—footsteps this time.Heavy.Moving down the hall.
My heart stops.
I freeze mid-step, ice cream forgotten, spoon still in my hand.The footsteps get closer—then stop somewhere near my door.
Please.Please not this.
My throat tightens.
I don’t breathe.
Then—
A door clicks open.
Someone laughs.
A high, feminine voice.
