Something inside me, something loud and scared and unrelenting goes quiet for the first time in years.
I don’t say another word. For the first time since I was old enough to understand what survival meant I feel safe.
14
Carter
There’s no way I can sit still.
I’ve been pacing behind her chair for the last fifteen minutes, watching the back of Haven’s head like I’m trying to will her to breathe slower. Her posture’s locked and she’s not blinking enough.
I know what that means.
She’s spiraling quietly under the surface. She always does when the pressure starts eating at her.
The match on screen is brutal. No easy flanks, no careless players. Everyone’s dialed in and the chat is massive. Hundreds of comments flying by every second, some are hype, some are chaos. Some are… not great.
I mute her Twitch window from my phone and move closer, stepping up beside her desk. My hand finds her shoulder. Just a light squeeze, nothing to break her focus but enough to remind herthat I’m here.
She doesn’t look at me or speak, I just see the way her jaw shifts. The way her leg bounces once beneath the desk.
“Breathe,” I whisper near her ear. “You’re doing better than everyone in this room.” I add, trying for a smile.
Her lips twitch barely, but it’s a win.
Five minutes later, she fumbles a reload. Just for a second, but in a bracket like this? Seconds matter.
She ducks behind a crate and pauses longer than she should. Her hand trembles as she repositions her mouse.
I move closer and drop to one knee beside her chair. “Hey,” I whisper. “Look at me.”
Her eyes bounce toward mine, wide and far too tense.
“There you are.”
“I’m—” Her voice cracks. “I’m fine.”
“You’re kicking ass. That’s not what I asked.”
She swallows.
I lean in, just enough for my breath to hit her skin. “You’ve got this. You’ve trained for this. You’re not alone, remember?”
Then I let my fingers trail up her thigh just a little. Enough to draw her focus back into her body. Into the here and now. Her breath hitches.
“Good girl.” and that’s when her aim sharpens again, like flipping a switch.
She exhales slowly and swings back into the match, taking two players out with clean, brutal precision.
I grin. “Knew you were still in there.”
She wins the match but she doesn’t celebrate. She just lets go of the mouse, slowly, like her hand might shatter if she moves too fast. I’m there before she can spin.
My arms wrap around her from behind, tugging her into my chest. She melts instantly, her forehead pressing into my neck. I kiss the top of her head and whisper something I don’t even register.
She breathes in. Lets out a shaky laugh. “I can’t feel my legs.”
“That’s fine,” I say gently, “You don’t need them to cuddle.”
