The apartment was too quiet, too still. Every sound felt amplified, the faint hum of the fridge, the distant siren from the street, the tap of my own heartbeat in my ears. I could smell him before I even saw him…leather, whiskey, and something sharp I couldn’t name.
Valen stepped out of the shadows, calm, too calm. That kind of calm made me nervous. He didn’t smile, He didn’t try to kiss me or soften the edges of the moment. He just moved toward the drawer between us, eyes stormy, unreadable.
“I want you to understand something,” he said, voice low, steady, each word weighted with unspoken consequence. “If you can’t trust me, shoot me.”
I froze.
The words hung between us, heavy and impossible.
Shoot him, me, trust, betrayal, love, war, every thought collided, a maelstrom in my chest.
