The tires screeched as I backed out of the driveway and sped down the road. The city blurred past, a mosaic of grays and blues. My mind raced as fast as the car, replaying every argument, every moment of tension, every time I’d pushed her away.
Traffic lights turned red, but I barely noticed. I was on autopilot, my only destination the campus where I knew Freya would be. I had to make this right, and I had to do it now.
Minutes felt like hours as I navigated through the streets, finally pulling into the university parking lot. I parkedhaphazardly, not caring if I was in a designated spot or not. The engine’s hum died down, replaced by the pounding of my heart in my ears.
I stepped out, the cool air hitting me like a splash of cold water. The campus was bustling, students milling about, completely oblivious to the storm raging inside me. I scanned the area, searching for any sign of her.
My phone buzzed in my pocket, but I ignored it. Whoever it was, they could wait. Right now, there was only one person I needed to talk to.
I marched across the campus, the urgency propelling me forward. My eyes locked onto Freya’s dorm building, and I broke into a run, my breath coming in sharp bursts. The closer I got, the more my resolve solidified.
Reaching her door, I didn’t bother knocking politely. I pounded on it; the sound echoing through the hallway.
"Freya!" I yelled, my fist connecting with the wood again.
Moments later, the door swung open, and there she stood, her eyes widening at the sight of me. Before she could react, I stepped through, grabbing her shoulders, kicking the door shut behind me.
"Henry, what are you?—"
I pushed her against the wall, my grip firm but not painful. "Why?" I demanded, my voice rough with emotion.
She blinked, confusion and hurt mingling in her gaze. "So your grandfather's legacy didn't crumble," she said, her voice steady. "I know how much it means to you."
"Not like you do," I retorted, my anger boiling over.
Her eyes widened, a flicker of surprise crossing her face. "What? Henry, I did it?—"
"Marry me," I cut her off, my words hanging heavy in the air. "Marry me right now."
She stared at me like I’d lost my mind. "You're crazy," she said, her voice barely a whisper. But I didn’t budge. She searched my face, looking for any hint of a joke. "You're serious?"
"I wouldn't joke about this," I replied, my voice steady, my heart pounding.
"Henry—"
"Marry me, Freya," I said, my grip on her shoulders tightening slightly. "Not because you're an obligation, but because you'reeverything."
She shook her head, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears. "The game… the meeting," she said, her voice breaking. "I don't want you to lose them."
"I don't want to loseyou," I said, my voice softening. "Please."
Without waiting for her response, I closed the distance between us, capturing her lips in a passionate kiss. It was desperate, a clash of emotions we’d both been holding back for too long. Her hands found their way to my chest, clutching at my shirt as if anchoring herself to reality. The world outside ceased to exist; it was just us, caught in this moment of raw, unfiltered need.
Our breaths mingled, the kiss deepening, every ounce of my desperation and love poured into that single, electrifying connection.
"God, I'm so angry at you," I murmured against her lips, my breath mingling with hers. "You can't leave me. Don't ever fucking leave me."
Freya shook her head, her eyes wide. I kissed her neck, feeling the pulse beneath her skin, my need for her growing more desperate with each second. Her hands gripped my shoulders, nails digging in as if trying to hold on to something solid.
My fingers found the hem of her shirt, pulling it over her head in one swift motion. The fabric gave way easily, and I tossed it aside, not caring where it landed. My hands roamed her body, exploring every inch of exposed skin, claiming it as mine.
"You're mine, Freya," I growled, my voice rough with possession. "Every part of you belongs to me."
She shivered under my touch, her breath hitching as my hands moved to the clasp of her bra. I unclasped it, letting it fall to the floor, revealing her to me completely. My mouth descended to her breasts, my tongue flicking over a nipple, eliciting a gasp from her lips.
"Say it," I demanded, my voice a low, commanding whisper. "Say you're mine."
"I'm yours," she whispered back, her voice trembling.