Zion
The room feels stifling as I pace back and forth, the steady thud of my boots against the hardwood floor reverberating in the quiet. Pacing doesn’t usually help, but tonight, I can’t seem to stop. My thoughts are a tangled mess, circling back to the same point every time. Meghan. Her name lingers in my mind like a sharp-edged whisper, refusing to be ignored.
Our confrontation earlier was unexpected, but it left a mark. The fire in her eyes, the way she stood her ground, refusing to back down even as I pushed. I can’t help but feel intrigued. Meghan Marcher isn’t like anyone I’ve met before. She’s raw, defiant, and utterly captivating. There’s something intoxicating about her stormy presence, a chaos that draws me in even when I know I should stay far away.
I run a hand through my h
