The way she touched me without hesitation.
The way I felt her panic before I even opened my eyes.
But that’s not the part stuck in my head now.
Not the part that won’t leave me alone.
It’s the way she pulled away from me in the training room.
Not because I was being an asshole.
Not because I said anything wrong.
Because she was scared.
Of me.
A new rep shudders through me and I let the weight slam back into its catches, chest heaving.Sweat runs down my spine, dripping onto the padded floor.
I wipe my face on the hem of my shirt, then grab the bar again, loading more weight this time.My hands shake slightly.I blame adrenaline, not the thing twisting in my chest.
Fear.
Not hers.
Mine.
I get under the bar.Dig my heels in.
Push.
One.
Her eyes.Big.Wide.Too bright.
Two.
Her hands shaking while she wrapped my shoulder.
Three.
Her voice cracking when she said she needed space.
Four.
I freeze mid-rep, something inside me snapping.
Space.
I don’t want space from her.
I want her where I can see her.
Where I can reach her.
Where nobody else can get close enough to take whatever light she has left and break it.
My grip tightens on the bar until pain shoots up my forearms.
