[Hazel]
“Elijah—what the hell?” I gasped, stumbling as he yanked me off the dance floor like I was a misbehaving child.
He didn’t answer. He didn’t even look at me. Just stormed ahead, dragging me behind him like he owned me.
“Elijah!” I snapped, jerking my hand back. “What is your problem?!”
He turned so fast I barely had time to react.
“You,” he spat, voice low, rough, trembling. “You’re my problem.”
I blinked. “Excuse me?”
He blinked too, as if he just realized how bizarre that sounded. Then he adjusted his glasses with his knuckle, nudging them up his nose like he needed a clearer look at me.
“I mean…” he muttered, trailing off. Then he glanced down at his hand.
I followed his gaze—and froze. I felt my heart crack painfully.
His hand was bleeding. Badly. Crimson pooled from h
