Kiss Me, Damnation

XVII

Adrian

I saw them the moment I stepped into the hallway, just as the bell rang and the crowd began to push forward. Evelyn, my Evelyn, laughing, her head tilted toward him-Daniel. My fists clenched at my sides before I even realized it. A kiss. Just a quick, careless brush of lips, but enough. Enough to make my chest tighten and my stomach twist. Enough to make my blood boil.

She hugged him after, casual, comfortable. Her hands slid across his shoulders, and the world around me blurred. I tried to tell myself it wasn't a big deal. It was high school. But no. She was mine. And no one, no one, had the right to touch her like that. Not Daniel. Not anyone.

I stepped closer, trying to steady myself, to force down the heat crawling up my neck. I wanted to storm across the hallway and pull her out of his arms, to make her feel what I felt-the ownership, the anger, the raw, unshakable need. But I didn't. Not yet. I didn't want anyone to see. Not her. Not Daniel. I wanted this to be between us, just us.

She's mine. I repeated it over and over in my mind, each word sharper than the last. No one else. Not him. Not anyone. She belongs to me.

Her laugh echoed in my ears, and I felt a sharp twist of jealousy. My chest tightened until I could barely breathe. Sharing her? That wasn't an option. Sharing her was unthinkable. I couldn't. I wouldn't. She didn't get to be someone else's.

I watched as they went their separate ways when class started, my hands flexing at my sides, nails digging into my palms. Every instinct in me told me to confront her immediately, to remind her exactly who she belonged to. But I didn't. Not here. Not in the crowded, noisy hallway. I had to wait. I had to make her understand.

And I would.

The moment school ended, I followed her, keeping my distance but never losing sight. She walked with her head down, backpack slung lazily over one shoulder, acting like the world was ordinary and nothing had changed. But I knew better. She couldn't ignore last night. She couldn't. And now, after seeing her with him... after seeing her with anyone else, I couldn't ignore it either.

She turned down the street that led home, the one quiet stretch lined with cracked sidewalks and overgrown hedges. I stepped from the shadows, letting my presence announce itself before she could even sense me.

"Evelyn."

Her head snapped up, and I caught the flash of surprise and recognition in her eyes. She tried to mask it with a tight smile. "Adrian... what are you doing here?"

"Just... checking in," I said casually, though the tension in my chest gave me away. My voice was calm, but there was an edge to it, a quiet warning she couldn't ignore. "About last night."

Her jaw tightened, and she turned her gaze away, pretending not to see me. "Stop talking about it," she said, but the tremor in her voice betrayed her.

I took a step closer, closing the distance between us, letting my shadow fall over her. "You kissed him," I said, more to myself than to her, though I made sure she heard. "Do you think I like that? Seeing someone else... touching what's mine?"

Her face paled. She tried to look away, but I held her gaze. Good. Let her see the anger, the possessiveness in my eyes. She needed to understand.

"I don't share, Evelyn," I continued, pacing slowly, letting each word hit like a weight. "Not him. Not anyone. You're mine. Don't forget that. And I'm not just talking about last night."

She opened her mouth, probably to argue, but I raised a hand, cutting her off. "I can see everything, Evelyn. Everything you do. Everything you let slip. And I remember. Don't think for a second that I'll forget."

Her hands clutched her backpack straps, and I saw her breathe quicken. She tried to stay defiant, tried to hide the fear I could feel from across the street. But she couldn't. Not from me.

I pulled out my phone, tilting the screen toward her so the glow caught her eyes. The video from last night. Just a glimpse-her silhouette, the way she moved, the way she whispered-but enough. Enough to make her heart skip and her knees threaten to buckle.

"See?" I said softly, leaning closer. "You don't get to forget. I don't get to forget. And I can show him. Your boyfriend. He'll know everything you do when no one's watching."

Her eyes widened. She opened her mouth, then closed it again, shaking slightly. "You wouldn't..."

"I would," I said flatly. "But I don't want to. Not if you do what you're supposed to. Break up with him. Or..." I let the threat hang in the air, sharp and cold.

"I... I won't," she said finally, her voice trembling, yet fierce, unwilling to back down. Her defiance was admirable, almost beautiful, but I saw the fear flicker beneath the surface. Her heart was racing. Her hands were trembling. She was scared. And she should be.

I took another step closer, letting my hand brush against hers. Just a touch. Her body stiffened immediately, and the small flinch made my chest tighten even further. I wanted more. I wanted her to understand who held the power here. I wanted her to know that she couldn't outrun me, couldn't fight me, couldn't hide from me.

"You can't run from me, Evelyn," I said quietly, my voice low, dangerous. "You belong to me. Don't forget it. Not for him. Not for anyone."

She blinked, backing away slightly, and I saw the panic in her eyes. I reached again, trying to catch her wrist, just a light touch, and that was enough.

She spun on her heel, backpack bouncing as she bolted down the street. Hair flying, shoes pounding against the cracked pavement, heart hammering-I watched her go, my hand outstretched, frozen in midair.

She thought she could escape. Thought she could deny me. But she was wrong.

And as I stood there, chest heaving, watching her retreating figure, I realized something. My anger had only grown. My obsession had only deepened. She was mine. And no one-no one-would ever convince me otherwise.

*****