Page 57 of Cruel Hero

Chapter 24

Adrien

My heart skips a beat as Tiffany’s eyes lock with mine. For a split second, time stands still. Then she’s rushing toward me, a blur of motion.

“Adrien!”

I open my arms as she flings herself at me. Our bodies collide, and I stagger backward, struggling to keep us both upright. Her lips crash into mine, desperate and hungry. The taste of her, the sensation of her embrace—it’s intoxicating.

My arms tighten around her slim frame as I return her fervent kisses. Her fingers weave through my hair, pulling me closer. I can feel her heart pounding against my chest, or maybe it’s my own heart—I can’t distinguish where she ends and I begin anymore.

I stumble, my legs hitting the edge of something. Sofa? Table? It doesn’t matter. All that matters is having Tiffany in my arms, her soft curves pressed against me.

We tumble onto the couch in a tangled heap, her body flush against mine. Her hands are everywhere—tugging at my shirt, sliding up my chest, gripping the back of my neck as if she’s terrified I’ll disappear again. I kiss her harder, deeper, trying to convey everything I couldn’t say in words. The week apart, the ache of not being able to hold her, the fear that something might have happened to her—it all pours into this moment.

“I was so scared,” she whispers against my lips, her voice breaking. “You could’ve called. You could’ve let me know you were okay. I thought... I thought something terrible had happened to you.”

I pull back slightly, cupping her face in my hands. Her blue eyes are wide, glistening with unshed tears. “I’m sorry,” I murmur, brushing my thumb across her cheek. “I wanted to call you every day, Tiffany. But it wasn’t safe. If anyone had traced the call to you...”

Her breath hitches, and she shakes her head. “I don’t care about the danger. I care about you. I need to know you’re alive, Adrien. I can’t—I can’t do this if you just vanish without a word.”

“It’s over now, my love. We’re both safe, and nothing happened to me.”

She surges forward, capturing my lips in another searing kiss. Her hands slide down my chest, fumbling with the buttons of my shirt. I feel a moment of panic—the bandages—but it’s quickly overwhelmed by the heat of her touch.

Tiffany’s fingers tremble as she undoes each button. I can hear her breath quicken; her heart races against mine. Or is that my pulse thundering in my ears? Everything is a blur of sensation and emotion.

“I need to feel you. All of you.”

She pushes my shirt open, but her hands pause, hovering over my chest. Tiffany’s eyes widen at the sight of the stark white bandages wrapped around my torso. Her fingers trace their edges delicately, trembling against my skin. I watch her face closely as different emotions play out—surprise, concern, and something else that I can’t quite place.

“What happened? You’re hurt.”

I reach up, brushing a strand of her golden hair away from her face. “It’s nothing. Just a scratch.”

Her eyes narrow, disbelief flickering in their depths. “A scratch doesn’t require bandages this big, Adrien.” She sits back slightly, her hands still resting on my chest as if she’s afraid to let go entirely. “Don’t lie to me.”

I exhale slowly, knowing there’s no use in hiding it from her. She’s too perceptive, too stubborn to let it go. “Fine. It’s not just a scratch. But I’m fine.”

But as I meet her eyes, something shifts. The passion from before has been replaced with fear and... is that guilt?

My heart tightens, sensing that something has changed, yet I can’t quite grasp what it is.

Suddenly, Tiffany pulls away from me with a jolt, panic clear in her wide eyes. She scrambles off my lap, nearly tripping over herself in her haste.

“I-I have to go,” she stammers.

I reach out, my fingers brushing her arm as she pulls away.

“Tiffany, wait,” I say, confusion and concern warring within me. “What’s wrong?”

She’s already moving towards the door, her movements jerky and uncoordinated. I push myself up from the couch, wincing as my injury protests the sudden movement.

“Please,” I call after her. “Talk to me. What’s going on?”

Tiffany pauses by the lift, hovering over the button. She doesn’t turn to face me, but I can see the tension in her shoulders, the slight shake of her hand.

“I can’t do this,” she says so softly I almost miss it. “I’m sorry, Adrien. I thought I could live like this. But I can’t.”

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