Chapter 14: We Don’t Talk About That Night
869 Words
(Azel’s POV)
Azel sat on the edge of her bed, staring at the wall like it might blink first.
Since that night, everything inside her had gone quiet.
Not peaceful. Not calm.
Just… silent. Like something important had turned off.
She still went to school. Still answered her father. Still showed up.
But she wasn’t sure she was really there anymore.
So when Rina barged into her room, tossing a duffel bag onto the bed and announcing, “You’re coming with me tonight,” Azel didn’t argue.
“I’m not in the mood,” she muttered.
“You don’t need a mood,” Rina said, already yanking open her wardrobe. “You need a moment. A night. Something that feels louder than whatever’s been dragging you under.”
“My dad won’t—”
“I already called him.”
Azel blinked. “You did what?”
“I told him we’re doing a group literature project and that I’ll bring you back before nine. He grumbled, but he said yes.”
“You lied.”
“I lied for you.”
Azel’s voice softened. “You didn’t have to do that.”
“No,” Rina said, holding up a hanger. “But I wanted to. Because you haven’t looked in a mirror like you see yourself in days.”
Azel looked up.
The dress was black silk. Off-shoulder. Sleek. A little dangerous.
“I can’t wear that.”
“You can,” Rina said. “And tonight, you will.”
---
That Night…
The party was already buzzing when they arrived — bodies moving, laughter echoing, music rattling the windows.
But when Azel stepped through the door?
Everything slowed.
She didn’t speak.
Didn’t wave.
Didn’t smile.
She just walked in — soft curls brushing her shoulders, the black dress hugging her quietly, her chin slightly raised — and suddenly, the room seemed smaller.
People turned.
They looked.
Some whispered.
And still, she didn’t shrink.
She spotted someone approaching — tall, kind-looking, with an easy smile that didn’t try too hard.
“You probably hear this a lot,” he said, voice gentle over the music, “but… you look beautiful.”
She hesitated. “Thanks.”
“I’m Caleb,” he added. “Want to step outside for some air?”
Before she could respond, her eyes drifted.
And that’s when she saw him.
Blaze.
Leaning against the far wall.
Not dancing.
Not talking.
Just watching.
His eyes didn’t move.
Not when Caleb spoke.
Not when she smiled.
He looked at her like she was a memory trying to walk away from him.
Her breath caught.
And suddenly, she needed air more than anything.
“Sure,” she said to Caleb. “Let’s go.”
---
Outside…
The porch was quieter. Caleb talked about music, books, random things.
He was nice.
But Azel’s focus drifted again — the weight of a stare still clinging to her skin.
And then Blaze was there.
He stepped between them like it was the most natural thing in the world.
“We need to talk,” he said to her.
Caleb blinked. “Is everything okay?”
“She’s fine,” Blaze replied, eyes locked on Azel. “You can leave now.”
“Excuse me?” Caleb stepped forward slightly. “She said she wanted air.”
“And I said we need to talk.”
“Blaze,” Azel warned, her voice sharp.
But it was already spiraling.
“You need to back off,” Caleb said.
And Blaze — of course — didn’t.
The push wasn’t hard, but it was enough to spark gas on open flame.
Caleb shoved back.
Blaze’s fist clenched.
Azel stepped between them too late.
Blaze swung.
The hit landed with a thud, and gasps followed from the people nearby.
“Are you insane?!” Azel yelled, grabbing Blaze’s arm before he could go again.
He was breathing hard. Jaw tight. Eyes wild.
“You’re coming with me,” she snapped, dragging him by the wrist. “Now.”
---
Away From the Party…
The wind hit her face the second they turned the corner.
“What was that?” she demanded.
“I didn’t like the way he was looking at you.”
“He was just being nice.”
“He wanted more than nice.”
“You don’t get to care!” she shouted. “You left. You ignored me.”
“I didn’t know how to come back,” he said, quieter now. “Because ever since that night, I haven’t stopped thinking about you.”
Azel froze.
“That’s not fair,” she whispered.
“I know.”
She stared at him, furious and shaken.
And then — without meaning to — she kissed him.
Not soft.
Not sweet.
But real. And sharp. And filled with every emotion she hadn’t said out loud.
He kissed her back like he was trying to figure out where he ended and she began.
When they broke apart, her chest rose and fell fast.
“This doesn’t fix anything,” she said.
“I’m not trying to fix it,” he murmured. “I’m trying to stop pretending I don’t want it.”
- Writer
