LONDON’S POV
I stood outside Elena’s door, my palm flat against the cool wood, as if I could somehow reach through it and touch her. The silence on the other side was heavy, suffocating—like the air before a storm.
My hand trembled slightly before I let it drop to my side, fingers curling into a fist. I stepped back, the sound of my footsteps echoing in the empty hallway, each one a dull thud that matched the ache in my chest.
Her kiss still lingered on my lips—soft, hesitant, and gone too soon. I could still feel the warmth of her body pressed against mine, the way she had melted into me for just a moment before she froze. Her eyes had widened, dark and unreadable, and then she had pulled away. She had run. And I had let her.
I raked a hand through my hair, my breath shaky as I tried
