DANTE:
Before I could pull myself back together, she’d already shifted to her side of the cabin, leaving a charged emptiness where she’d been. Cinnamon blinked too fast, a quick flash of hurt crossing her face before she smoothed it into a faint, polite smile.
I was an i***t.
She’d calmed me down from a full panic spiral, and I repaid her by snapping like she’d crossed a line.
“Thank you,” I muttered.
“There’s no need to thank me.” Her voice was cold now, stripped of every trace of softness. “Because this won’t happen again.”
She angled her body away, shoulder turned, knees pointed toward the window as if she wanted to carve the distance into the air itself. She wanted me to see it. To feel it.
I deserved that.
What was it about this woman? I’d spent years perfecting control and sh
