Page 105 of Broken Breath
Him.
This unhinged, chaotic, ridiculous man who seems to genuinely care about me, despite having no reason to. Despite my giving him every excuse not to.
And the idea of curling up somewhere that isn’t the bus, a gym floor, or inside my own screaming head is too tempting to resist.
If he stays on top of the covers, he won’t accidentally grope a breast, right?
With fake nonchalance, I pull my hoodie around my head, kick off my shoes, and crawl into the bed, sinking into sheets that smell unmistakably like Luc. He drapes the blanket over me with a weird kind of gentleness, like he thinks I might bolt, and then he scoots close behind me, the heat of his body soaking through even with the fabric between us. One arm wraps around my waist, and the other reaches over to tug the hood off my head.
I huff, but he just smirks. Then, he does exactly as he promised, he holds me, and it doesn’t take long for the tears to start again, much quieter this time, more of a release than a lament.
But that doesn’t mean they’re harmless because each tear still carries weight, and the longer I lie there, still and trembling in the space between his arms, the more the voices in my head get loud again.
You fucked it all up.
You let him see too much.
You kissed him.
My chest aches, not from crying but from the fallout. From the crash that wasn’t on a bike but inside me. From Finn. From what it meant. What it didn’t.
The physical pain flares up again, too, letting me know that my last dose of pain meds was far too long ago, but just when I think I’m going to break apart, Luc pulls me closer. He’s here, holding me like I’m worth the trouble, eventhough all I did was be mean and lie to him. Still, I don’t pull away. Despite the chaos in my head and the bruises on my heart, it feels good to be held. Safe.
Like maybe, just for tonight, I don’t have to be the one holdingmyselftogether.
So I let the tears fall, let them soak into his sleeve, and let myself grieve about what happened with Finn, and everything, really. The crash. The years I lost. The girl I used to be. I cry like I haven’t cried in years, and when I finally settle completely, when my body quiets and the tremors fade, Luc shifts.
He turns me over gently, and his blue eyes find mine. All soft and steady, like he’s trying to check for cracks in the surface, not realizing I’m already splintered through.
“What happened?” he murmurs, brushing a bit of hair from my forehead with the back of his fingers.
“I had a fight with Dane.”
“Dane?” he asks, confusion cut into his forehead. “Not Greer?”
My heart stutters. Not enough to give me away, but enough to feel it, right in the ribs, right where it already aches. I swallow it, pack it tight, and lock it away.
“No.”
“Okay.” He nods, not looking convinced in the slightest. “What about?”
“I had some big feelings,” I mutter. “He had some big feelings too.”
Luc hums thoughtfully. “Oh, Iknowhaving big feelings. Mymamanalways says you’re entitled to your big feelings whenever you want, but you’re still responsible for the way you make others feel while you’re feeling those feelings.”
“That’s… weirdly wise.”
He grins. “She’s terrifying and powerful. I love her.”
“Yeah?” I ask, not even sure which part I’m asking about.
“Yeah,” he answers anyway. “She’s my best friend. Next to Toulouse.”
“Must be nice. I don’t have a mom.”
His expression softens even more. “I don’t have a dad anymore.”
“I don’t like my dad.”
