Kiss Me, Damnation

V

Evelyn

The hospital smelled like bleach and sorrow. The harsh white lights made everything feel too bright, too sterile, like the whole building was trying to scrub away the pain it held. My shoes squeaked against the tiled floor as I walked, my heart pounding so hard I thought it would burst out of my chest.

Daniel.

Every step forward felt heavier. I still couldn’t believe it—he was supposed to meet me yesterday. We were supposed to laugh, maybe even pretend we were normal teenagers for once. Instead, he had been carried here, bleeding and broken, while I stayed home clutching the stupid note Adrian had left on my desk.

You’re only mine.

The words were still burned into my skull.

I blinked hard and forced myself to keep moving. I couldn’t think about Adrian now. I just had to see Daniel, to know he was alive.

I found his room number and froze.

Someone was already standing outside the door.

Broad shoulders. Dark hair falling into sharp eyes. His presence filled the corridor like smoke, suffocating, impossible to ignore.

Adrian.

My throat went dry. “What are you doing here?” I managed to whisper, though the bite in my voice felt weak.

His lips curled into that slow, dangerous smile that always made me feel trapped. “My father owns this hospital,” he said, as though that explained everything. His voice was calm, but his eyes… they weren’t. They burned with something I didn’t want to name.

I didn’t answer. If I spoke to him any longer, I’d suffocate. I pushed the door open and slipped inside.

Daniel lay against the pillows, pale, his arm in a sling, a small bandage across his forehead. But when his eyes found me, they lit up.

“Evelyn.”

Tears blurred my vision instantly. I rushed to his side, my hand clutching his as though he might disappear if I let go. “Daniel, oh my God. I thought—” My voice cracked. “I was so scared.”

He gave me a small smile, squeezing my hand with what little strength he had. “Guess I’m harder to kill than I look.”

A shaky laugh slipped out of me. Relief flooded my chest, warm and dizzying. He was alive. Broken, yes, but alive. I brushed his hair gently away from his face and held onto his hand like it was the only solid thing in the room.

For a moment, I forgot everything else.

Until I felt it—the weight of eyes on me.

I turned my head slowly. Adrian stood in the doorway, silent. Watching. His gaze was fixed on my hand wrapped around Daniel’s. His jaw tightened, his whole body stiff with something sharp, dangerous.

My stomach flipped, fear pricking through my relief.

“I’ll… I’ll come back tomorrow,” I whispered quickly to Daniel. He frowned faintly, but he nodded.

I forced myself to let go of his hand and walked out. I didn’t look at Adrian. I didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of seeing my fear.

But I didn’t make it far.

A hand clamped around my wrist. Hard.

“Adrian—” I hissed, jerking back, but his grip was iron. “Let go!”

He didn’t speak. He just pulled me down the hall, my feet stumbling to keep up, down a flight of stairs, until he shoved open a door and dragged me inside.

The janitor’s closet smelled of bleach and damp rags. Shelves crowded the small space, pressing in on me, boxing me in with him. He shut the door with a sharp slam, and the world shrank to nothing but his breathing and mine.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” I snapped, though my voice shook.

Adrian stared at me like he could burn through my skin. His chest rose and fell too quickly, and for once he didn’t sound smooth or controlled. His words came out raw, jagged.

“You smiled at him. You touched his hand.” His eyes flicked down to my fingers, as if they still betrayed me. “Like he mattered to you.”

“He does matter to me,” I shot back, raising my chin though my heart pounded like a trapped bird. “He’s my friend. And you have no right—”

I never finished.

His mouth crashed against mine.

It wasn’t gentle. It wasn’t even human. It was a storm, rough and bruising, his hands gripping my waist so tightly it hurt. His lips moved with a desperation that felt like possession, like he was trying to erase Daniel’s touch from my skin.

I struggled, my palms pushing against his chest. But the harder I shoved, the harder he kissed, like he needed to break me open and prove I belonged to him.

My mind screamed at me to fight. But somewhere in the chaos, my body betrayed me, heat flaring beneath the fear. The shame of it made me push harder, gasping.

“Stop!” I finally shoved him with everything I had. He stumbled back, his lips swollen, his eyes burning like wildfire.

I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand, trembling so hard I could barely stand.

“You can’t do that to me,” I spat, though my voice cracked. “I’m not yours. I’ll never be yours.”

For a moment, silence strangled the air. His chest heaved, fists clenched at his sides. Then slowly, so slowly, his lips curved again into that smile I hated.

“You’ll run,” he murmured, his voice low, terrifyingly certain. “But you’ll always come back. Because no one else will ever see you the way I do.”

His words sent ice down my spine.

I shoved past him, yanked the door open, and ran. My footsteps echoed down the hall, my lungs burning until I burst out of the hospital into the cool night air.

I pressed my shaking hands to my lips, trying to scrub away the taste of him. But no matter how hard I tried, I could still feel it—his mouth, his grip, his claim.

And the worst part wasn’t the fear.

It was the tiny, traitorous whisper in the back of my mind.

The whisper that said he might be right.