Ariana’s POV
The ride home was unbearable.
Not because of shouting.
Not because of fighting.
Because Kian didn’t say a single word.
The entire drive, he just stared ahead at the road with one hand gripping the steering wheel tightly while the city lights flashed across his face every few seconds.
Sharp jaw.
Unreadable expression.
Dangerously quiet.
And somehow, that silence felt worse than if he had yelled at me.
I sat stiffly in the passenger seat, arms folded tightly across my chest while irritation burned hotter and hotter beneath my skin.
The music from earlier was gone now.
Only the low hum of the engine filled the car.
Painfully quiet.
I glanced at him once.
Nothing.
Not even a look in my direction.
Seriously?
He drags me out of a party like some jealous psychopath
