Page 73 of When the Storm Breaks
Her voice is quiet. Insistent.
And she’s looking at me like I’m the fix. Like I’m the only person who can make this better.
No. No, she’s not doing this.
I pull back slightly. “Calla… no.”
Her shoulders drop in an exaggerated motion—too loose, too unsteady.
A soft hiccup escapes her. I shake my head, trying to gather my fucking thoughts.
“I mean it,” I say, softer this time. “Please stop looking into this.”
Her expression doesn’t change. Neutral. Like she’d already braced for that answer.
“Haiyden, I can’t.” The words are quiet, but unyielding.
I drop my head into my hands, fighting the worry swirling through my chest. I knew this was how it would go but hearing it out loud still sucks.
“I can’t help you,” I say, almost pleading. “And I need you to be safe.”
Her expression flickers before she hiccups again, the sound crackling through the tension.
I sigh. We’re at an impasse. She’s too drunk for this conversation. And I’m too fucked to keep fighting her on it.
I study her again. Her eyes are unfocused now—glassy, distant. Lights on. No one home.
For the first time tonight, I feel like I lost.
She laughs suddenly, loud and unrestrained. The sound startles me, but I can’t help the way my mouth twitches, a smile threatening to surface.
I raise an eyebrow.
“Be careful, Haiyden,” she teases, her voice lifting, just a little uneven. “You’re starting to sound like you actually care about me.”
I do.
The thought slams into me, knocking the air from my chest.
For a second, I want to tell her. Just say it.
But I can’t. Not now. Not like this.
My face heats, and before I can recover, she pushes herself to her feet, gripping the edge of the bar for balance. Using the foot rails on the stool, she adds just enough height to lean forward, her face inching closer to mine, her breath warm against my skin.
Another hiccup slips out, and she laughs at herself before regaining focus.
She sticks out a finger, wagging it with a slow, exaggerated “come here” motion. Her expression is back to playful, vulnerable.
And fuck, if it doesn’t undo something in me.
“Do you want to know a secret?” she slurs. Her words are uneven, but there’s something underneath. Something serious.
I chuckle, shaking my head, indulging her. “Sure, Calla.”
She leans in closer, voice quiet.
“I care about you, too.”
