“I don’t mean them. I mean you.”
And just like that, it clicks. It was never about the plan or backup.
“That’s why you don’t make a move?” I ask.
He shrugs.
“Forcing you to follow me isn’t how this works,” he says, stepping closer. “I don’t want fear or guilt. I want you to see exactly what I am and step into it anyway.”
His fingers brush mine, his lips curving into the faintest smirk.
“I’m not dragging you into the dark. You’ll walk in because part of you already belongs there.” His thumb trails my cheek tenderly, his head cocking to the side. “And I’m not asking for your permission. I’m just giving you a moment to understand that once I do this, there’s no way back.”
My hand rises and caresses his face, my fingers brushing over the sharp line of his jaw.
“I told you. If you fall, I fall.”
His eyes darken, but his voice stays calm. “You don’t know every part of me. You don’t know the version no one sticks around for. The one that likes the mess.”
“I’m not afraid,” I say, holding his gaze.
And I mean it.Even if I should be.
He leans in, mouth close to mine. “You will be. And that’s when I’ll know it’s real. If you stay after that.”
I lift my chin defiantly. “I want to see that other version of you.”
“No, you don’t.”
“I told you, I’m not afraid.”
“And I told you, you should be.”
He takes two steps back, eyes still on me, then tosses the knife in the air and catches it without looking.
“Besides, you’re too slow. I’ll catch you before you even reach the damn door.”
I cross my arms. “I don’t think so.”
He grins wickedly. “Let’s be honest. You don’t really wanna run.” He twirls the blade once more. “You just want to see what happens when I catch you.”
I take a step closer, eyes locked on his. “Is that a dare?”
His smirk widens and for a second. It’s like he’s already gone, playing this out in his head. He flips the knife in his hand and offers it to me.
“Garden maze. You’ve got thirty seconds.”
A grin tugs at my lips, but I can’t stop the shiver that crawls down my spine.
“And then what?”
“If I catch you, you’re fucked.”
Irun as fast as I can, my grip tightening around the blade’s handle. My thoughts run along with me.
Why did he give it to me?
Why did I take it?
