Page 71 of Conflicted

Darius shoved a hand through his hair. “Why isn’t he leaving the house? He was as desperate as the rest of us to break free, why isn’t he making the most of it?”

“I don’t think it was about making the most of it for Quill.” Jeremiah was standing, frowning down at the unconscious demon. “I think he just wanted to be away from there.”

“He needs help,” I said, sitting back on my heels. “Let’s face it, none of us are qualified to fix this.”

“Damn right,” Jeremiah said. “No human shrink is going to be able to help him though. Do you think supe therapists are a thing?”

“If they are, I’ll track one down,” Darius said firmly. “I hate that I haven’t been here. Little fucker has been lying to me every time we’ve spoken. I had no idea anything was going on.”

“This is on all of us,” I said. Jeremiah nodded in agreement. “We knew there was an issue, but none of us thought it was this bad.”

Darius studied Quill’s face closely. “I guess none of us really know what shit someone else is carrying. It makes us behave in ways we might never have believed until we’re in that situation. Maybe Quill feels out of control. The house is his safe place. By not leaving it, he’s escaping everythingelse that’s crushing him. He can control how he feels here, but nowhere else.”

Darius and Jeremiah began discussing short-term solutions that could help Quill while they searched for an appropriate therapist. I sat silently though, replaying what Darius had said in my mind.

All of what he’d said could be applied to Micah. I already knew he was struggling to cope with his role in the Seraphim. He never took prolonged time off. He always put them first. He didn’t ever seem to step away from it…unless he was with me.

When it got too much, it was me he called. Me he escaped with.

My perspective on everything shifted. Maybe I was Micah’s safe space. His home. The place where he could escape everything else and just be himself.

Suddenly nothing that had happened earlier mattered. The Seraphim might always be Micah’s number one priority. I couldn’t control or change that.

But I could make Micahmynumber one priority. If I was his safe space, I was going to make sure it was the safest, warmest, least judgemental place possible.

Iwas on my bike outside the Seraphim compound. I’d been there for two hours already, with no idea if or when Micah would reach out.

The whole time, I couldn’t escape the negative thought pattern I was spiralling through.What if he never reaches out again?What if tonight reminded him of all the reasons why hecan’t spend time with me? What if he’s decided I’m not worth the risk?

I didn’t allow myself to think about the fact that we’d made each other no promises. The opposite, in fact. We’d both been perfectly clear that we weren’t anything to or for each other.

I’d never hated anything more than that thought.

The hours ticked by without a message. I didn’t leave, just stood sentry, a silent figure in the night.

It was a good thing I didn’t leave. As the seventh hour drew to a close, Micah appeared in the distance. I watched him come closer, cataloguing every detail. His hunched shoulders. The exhaustion lining his face. His hands hanging limply at his sides.

My chest pinched. Micah looked like a man defeated.

He looked up, and some of those shadows seemed to disappear. His chest expanded fully, his lips lifting at the corners as his pace quickened.

I felt my own smile forming in response as I stepped forwards, the ache in my chest easing at the mere sight of his face.

Seeing him happy made me happy.

That was when another realisation hit me. A realisation that changed everything. It was as sudden and sure as a lightning strike, making me stumble.

“Are you okay?” Micah caught me by my elbow. “Nox?”

My mouth was so dry as I stared into Micah’s beautiful eyes. Fuck. No. I was so far from okay.

I was in love with Micah.

That’s what this feeling was. This insane need to protect him. To make him happy. To see him smile. To know he was relaxed. That satisfaction at knowing he was thriving wasn’t satisfaction at all.

It waslove.

I’d never felt it before. I hadn’t even realised I was capable of feeling it.

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