[Hazel]
The door clicked shut behind us, heavy and final, sealing off the world outside. The dim light of my room fell over Elijah like a shroud, highlighting the sharp lines of his jaw, the tense set of his shoulders. His hands moved with quick, frustrated precision—loosening his tie, tugging it free in one rough motion as if trying to strip away the weight pressing down on him.
“Christmas has never been nice to me,” he said, voice low, rough—edged with a bitterness that cut through the silence like a knife. “But I didn’t expect it to be this cruel.”
He rolled up his sleeves with a practiced motion, cuffs undone and pushed back to reveal forearms taut with tension, muscles flexing beneath pale skin. The anger coiled in him was palpable, simmering just beneath the surface, ready to igni
