The air between us stills, and I feel him shift. For a moment, I think he's fallen asleep, or maybe I've just been hoping we'd fall asleep like this, wrapped up in each other's arms.
But we don't.
Slowly, Axel pulls away from me.
I watch him in the dim light, his body moving with an ease that stabs something deep inside me.
Looking at him now, perfect from head to toe, I can't believe he was just on me, touching me, yet somehow I never felt overwhelmed by his weight. He was careful, almost tender.
And yet... something inside me already knows.
He's not mine.
He never will be.
For him, this must have been nothing more than a one-night thing, a simple need, no strings, no promises.
He pulls his clothes back on without a glance in my direction. I pretend not to care, but it's impossible, my chest aches, tight with the burn of unshed tears.
I hate this. I hate myself for feeling this way.
I don't dare speak.
I don't want to hear him say it_ that we were just two lonely people scratching an itch, that no one owes the other anything.
I shove the messy emotions down, but they're balancing on the edge, ready to spill.
Pushing myself up, I yank my clothes back on, trying to move faster than my feelings. As I pull my shirt over my head, my eyes catch on the markings on my palm, deep violet, shaped like a candle flame.
I scrub at them, rubbing hard enough to sting, but they don't fade. They stay, like a curse, like a reminder.
Axel walks out without a word. I sit there, breathing in and out, but nothing helps.
I've always hated the idea of meaningless sex, hated the stories of people sleeping together and then acting like strangers.
It's one of the reasons, besides never meeting anyone, that I'd sworn to myself I'd wait. I'd told Jade I would never give my body away without love given back to me. Not to someone who doesn't love me that much.
Never.
Yet here I am. Remembering how much I almost went to my knees for someone who didn't even ask me if he can have me.
On the verge of tears because someone who never promised me anything is already treating me like I mean nothing.
And the worst part?
I still want him to turn back.
I hate myself for it. I hate this whole situation. And it makes me feel like a fool.
I gather what's left of my pride and head for the door.
Because whatever wishful thinking I had, it's dead now.
I need to get out of here.
The moment I step outside, his voice stops me.
"You can't leave," Axel says.
"Yeah, I'm leaving," I say simply, not even looking at him. I cage every emotion inside me, stuffing it down where it can't break out.
"Zane, I already told you, you can't leave! It's dangerous out there for you right now. And to make it worse, You possess a power you don't understand, and that makes you dangerous too..."
All these time he speaks I'm Wondering,.. 'Now that he is talking to me, why don't he talk about what we just did, why don't he mention the moment we just shared!
The fact that he is totally ignoring it and telling me useless things that I don't want to hear, only fuels my anger.
He grabs my shoulder to turn me around when I don't stop walking away.
Anger flares in me, raw and unstoppable, and before I can even think, I push him away on his shoulder, and suddenly the markings on my palm ignite, sparkling purple. A surge of energy pulses out of me, crackling, striking his shoulder.
He jolts, body convulsing, then crumples to the ground.
Panic shreds through me.
But the current stops as suddenly as it started.
I rush over. He's breathing, just a mark scorched onto his shirt and skin. Relief floods me, but it doesn't slow my racing heart.
Without a second thought, I turn and bolt into the trees.
I don't know where I'm going. I don't care. I just keep moving until the woods thin out and I stumble into civilization.
I find a bus. Five hours of rattling and jolting later, I'm home.
My hands tremble as I unlock the front door.
The moment I step inside, Dad is there, looming.
"Where on earth have you been?!" he demands, reaching toward me.
I flinch back before I can stop myself.
Something about being close to him feels... Off. My nerves scream, my skin crawls. This has never happened to me, my dad has always been a best friend to me. But now... I can't explain it. I don't even want to try.
"Zane, are you okay? Where have you been?" he asks again, his voice softer now.
"Nowhere," I mutter. "Just went to a party... messed around with some guy... and now I'm mad at myself. That's it. I'm going upstairs to get ready for school."
"It's nine a.m. Why go now? I wanted to talk to you about something..."
"After school," I cut him off, climbing the stairs two at a time, needing distance, needing space.
I slam my door shut and lock it behind me.
I should tell him everything. That was my plan during the long bus ride home, tell Dad, get help, figure this mess out.
But now?
Now I don't even want to open my mouth.
The words dry up.
The truth is: everything feels wrong.
The house.
Dad.
And I'm terrified that nothing will ever feel normal again.
And I don't want to think anymore, I don't care anymore.
I rush into the bathroom, desperate to escape these feelings that are pressing down on me.
I need to be somewhere alive with noise, somewhere overflowing with arguments, laughter, and endless drama, anything that can pull my mind away from everything, even for a little while.