Page 45 of Stream Heat
“Controller swap!” Ash called out, already tracking who owed who.
Most days, I’d be cackling along with them, but the sound slammed into me like a fist. Theo’s scream, the game, the post-scare laughter, my ears rang, everything in my vision closing in at the edges. I white-knuckled it, but my voice was gone.
“Quinn’s exempt, remember?” Malik said, cutting through the static, all focus.
I should have wanted to snap at him. I should have hated the implication that I was fragile. But I couldn’t drag a protest out of my mouth. Instead, I tried to breathe, tried to tune out the colors and noises now turned up to eleven.
Somewhere to my left, Jace moved. Anyone else might have missed it, but I felt every inch of it. He flicked the overheads to a dimmer setting, softening the glare by a notch or two. The relief was instant. I almost gasped, but held it in.
We locked eyes. He understood what he’d done, and gave me a little nod. I didn’t really know how to say thanks, so I just blinked and looked away. The show must go on.
Reid took over the controller, barely breaking stride, pushing forward in the nightmare corridors while the rest of us got pulled into the banter again. But everything still felt off-kilter for me. Too hot, then too cold. Too loud, then dead quiet. My senses didn’t know what game they were playing, and I was just along for the ride.
“Quinn, what’s your take on this strategy?” Reid said, trying to pull me back in.
“You’re being too cautious,” I snapped, falling into the role I had assigned myself long ago. I was aggressive and dismissive, but this time my hands were shaking. “You’re playing like there’s something to lose besides your dignity.”
It landed a little too hard. Reid didn’t bite, just kept his voice steady. “Sometimes caution keeps you alive.”
Right then, the game dropped another sound bomb, a sudden surge in the audio, spooky music dialed up to maximum. It hit so hard I winced, hand spasming on the controller.
Malik noticed. He slid a fraction closer, not touching, just enough that his scent started to buffer the others. Sandalwood and linen, grounding and clean. I could breathe again, a little.
“Breathing pattern,” he whispered, not for the mics. “Four in, hold four, out four, hold four.”
I did it automatically, brain latching onto the routine from his meditation streams. Four in, hold four, out four, hold four. Over and over, until my heartbeat slowed and the world stopped spinning.
“Thanks,” I whispered, timing it so only he could hear.
Malik didn’t say anything back. He just kept sending out the calm, like a lighthouse or a security blanket.
The world kept turning, and so did the controller. After Reid, Malik took a turn, then Jace. The rotation kept us moving, just fast enough to avoid another meltdown.
But I noticed something else, lurking under the surface. They’d all started to adapt, each in their own way, dialing themselves down for me, smoothing the edges, making little invisible accommodations.
Reid’s voice stayed in a lower register, never barking. Theo’s reactions got quieter, tight bursts of energy with the volume dialed back. Ash locked in on the audio levels, making sure no spike ever made it to the monitors. Jace stuck to the dim lighting, tweaking as sunlight changed. Malik kept up the breathing cues, subtle but impossible to miss if you were looking for them.
They were managing me. But not the way people do when they pity you, it was more like navigation, steering the ship through shark-infested water, making sure nothing tipped over.
And that realization made me want to claw my own skin off.
“Earth to Quinn,” Theo said, snapping his fingers. “Your turn to rate Jace’s performance. Solid eight out of ten, right? Man hasn’t screamed once.”
I shook it off, snapping into place. “Six point five, max. Anyone can avoid monsters by moving like a ninja on sedatives.”
Jace’s lips twitched. “Some of us prefer stealth over spectacle.”
“Boring but effective,” I shot back. “Like your fashion sense.”
This time the chat went ballistic. Flooded with ship names and commentary, half of them picking up on the way the guys were subtly propping me up.
JaceQuinn = strategic power couple
Quinn roasting everyone is LIFE
the way they all adjusted for her without making it obvious
I almost dropped the controller reading that. Was I leaking this much weakness, even with all the performances?
