After Derek left, we just sat there, staring at the coffee stain Dante had spit onto the table. We didn’t speak, but we didn’t feel the need to.

  How healthy is it for someone like him to be drinking and doing drugs? - Thoughts like these ran through my mind as I watched Dante’s face, but it reflected nothing but tangled thoughts. We continued drinking in silence until our glasses were empty. The vibration of my phone interrupted our attempt to light a cigarette.

  A message from Mark: asking if I was free tomorrow. I didn’t even answer, just handed my phone to Dante.

  I only saw his response once we were already in the car.

  Yes. So that means we’re meeting Mark tomorrow - I processed slowly, and by the time I looked up, we were already in Clinton, parked in front of the apartment block. I was just thinking about how to say goodbye when Dante unfastened his seatbelt. At my puzzled look, he just flashed a smile and informed me that he was skipping university.

  I was more surprised than I should’ve been, but his reasoning was sound: If we were meeting Mark tomorrow, there was no point in refueling the car three times. It was obvious, we agreed he’d stay the night at my place.

  It was the first time he skipped a day. He did it for me, because my friendship with Mark was important to him. We’re both terrible at expressing emotions, but I think I understand his love language.

  The rest of the evening was… pleasant.

  I watched Dante’s every move as he tiredly started peeling off his blazer like he was on his deathbed.

  Every thought was written on his face, his shoulders completely slumped. Today's events had drained him, so I stepped forward to help. He unbuttoned his own shirt, but I loosened his tie, freeing his neck from its grip. That’s when our eyes met. I stepped back to avoid the inevitable, and he didn’t pull me back either.

  It’s too soon for us to get tangled up in each other, not with lives like ours. We can’t afford to listen to our desires.

  I dug out some of Mark’s old clothes, the ones that had accumulated at my place over the years, and tossed them onto the bed before leaving Dante alone to change. While he did, I prepared dinner, set the table, and then went back to tell him; dinner is ready. By the time I got there, he was already fast asleep.

  And that brings us to now, lying in bed.

  It’s ten in the morning, and he’s still sleeping. His distinctive scent is mixing with the scent of the clothes’ original owner, and it unsettles me, though I don’t know why. Mark used to leave for work from my place all the time, so eventually, he started keeping clothes in two locations, my apartment and his own.

  Still… I never imagined that, aside from Mark and me, anyone else would wear these rags. And I definitely never thought that “anyone else” would be Dante, Mark’s former classmate.

  I can’t take this scent any longer. Carefully, I shift to crawl out of bed, but then I feel his firm grip on my wrist.

  “Where are you rushing off to?” His drowsy voice makes me exhale softly. His touch burns every time, as if branding me.

  “I just… I can’t stand this,” I admit, and his eyes open, lips catching between his teeth.

  “Should I go home?”

  “I meant Mark’s scent. On you.”

  At my clarification, he releases my hand and sits up, tearing the blue T-shirt off with such determination, as if it were made of flames. I gape in surprise. Not because his physique is perfect, but because I find it perfect. He’s not as thin as William, nowhere near as muscular as James, he’s something entirely different to me.

  It’s obvious he’s been athletic throughout his life, just as it’s obvious he doesn’t eat as much as he should due to stress. He’s lean, graceful, yet still has muscle definition.

  “Close your mouth. I’m falling apart from stress,” he mutters, flopping back into bed and pulling the blanket up to his face. I can say with certainty, he’s embarrassed by my reaction.

  How can a man be this adorable?

  “You’re talking nonsense, you know that?” I shake my head in disbelief as I lie back down.

  But he grips my waist in one decisive motion and pulls me against his chest.

  “Sorry, but I need this right now, this kind of closeness. It’s been so long since I’ve felt any form of love.”

  “Then what was yesterday?” My question is pointless since I already know the answer, but I’m still curious to hear what he’ll say.

  My hand moves slowly, tracing the bare expanse of his chest. I want nothing more than to climb on top of him and surrender to my primal instincts.

  “Yesterday… Yesterday everything happened so fast.” He muses, smacking his lips. “Like time is always racing past us. Like we’re always running late.”

  “I think I know what you mean.” I glance up at his sharp features, my fingers trailing up to his jaw as I cup his face. “We have a few hours now.”

  “I vote for active nothingness.” He mumbles softly, leaning into my touch, and I swear, I’m losing my mind over him.

  I worry that we’ll lose the beauty of intimacy too soon. It’s a ridiculous thought, but I can’t shake it. Dante has only had one relationship, just like me. We’re not innocent, but we have so much weighing over us. We’re only just starting to truly understand each other, why would we risk that with an act that might end in awkward silence? My train of thought is interrupted by the grumble of his stomach. He chuckles, embarrassed, just like me. Right. We forgot to eat dinner.

  “What would you say to having last night's dinner for breakfast and continuing on the couch?”

  “I’m in.” That’s all I need to hear, I get up from beside him and hurry into the kitchen.

  Everything is already set on the table, except for the food missing from the plates. Usually, I always feel burdened when I serve, cook dinner, or even just host guests, but with Dante, it’s completely different. It makes me happy to take care of him. It’s a strange feeling, being happy around him, unfamiliar, terrifying. I know he could disappear from my side at any moment.

  “What did you cook yesterday?” His voice sends a shiver down my spine, making me straighten up immediately in front of the fridge. “Sorry I fell asleep last night.”

  “You’re exhausted, it’s nothing.” I answer his question with actions, taking the carbonara out of the fridge.

  “As an apology, should I serve it instead?”

  “In many places, that’s considered rude.”

  “Where I’m from, it means the guest feels at home.”

  I laugh at how he turns my own weapon against me. He takes the dish from my hands, and since there’s nothing left for me to do, I smile and head to the bathroom to freshen up.

  I don’t even understand how I dare to show myself like this in front of him. My pajamas are wrinkled, my eyes have dark circles, and my hair has a life of its own. I spend at least five minutes behind the door trying to look somewhat presentable, but it’s a lost cause, my hair is all over the place, and even washing my face doesn’t help. When I return, everything is already set on the table.

  “Should I make some coffee?” he asks, making me chuckle softly.

  “I’ll show you a secret, okay?” He tilts his head, blowing a black strand out of his eyes, watching my every move as I walk to the fridge, pull out the bottom drawer, push aside some drinks, and take out two energy drinks.

  “Is this all the alcohol you have at home?”

  “Problem?”

  “If we ever moved in together, I’m pretty sure it wouldn’t help with my alcohol problem.” I don’t even know whether to choke or swallow. Move in together? With him? A life by his side? “I mean, you know.”

  “Uh-huh…” The response barely escapes out of me, and I can feel my face turning the shade of a tomato.

  That’s all I can manage, I just shove the can into his hand and sit down at the table. Dante doesn’t say another word either, and for a fleeting moment, I notice the faint redness creeping onto his face as well. We eat our breakfast in silence.

  “I have disposable toothbrushes for guests,” I say quietly while standing at the sink. Before he can ask, I continue. “My friends often sleep over, so I figured it was a good idea to have some.”

  “Do a lot of people stay over?”

  “Not many, but the same ones often. Sometimes my apartment feels like a hotel.”

  “You… mostly have guy friends, right?”

  “I love them like my brothers.” He doesn’t start overthinking it, judging by the little snort, he actually finds it amusing.

  “I never accused you of anything, Nina.”

  “I just wanted to clarify as soon as possible that you’re the only one who exists for me.”

  “Judging by our argument, it was pretty obvious you waited for me the whole time.”

  I can’t respond, not that I even want to. What is this man doing to me? He completely turns me inside out, what does it mean that he’s the only one who exists for me? What does it mean to move in together? What does it mean that I waited for him all this time? How does he read me so easily?

  And most importantly...

  Why do the obvious truths unsettle me so much? Dante doesn’t push the conversation further. He tucks the chairs under the table and heads off to brush his teeth, leaving me alone with my childish thoughts.

  By the time I finish tidying up, Dante is already curled up on the couch under a blanket, flipping through the TV channels, looking for something suitable for both of us. I don’t join him, at least not until after I brush my teeth. By then, some ridiculous show is already playing on the screen.

  I plop down beside him and glance over his figure. The blanket covers his whole body, with only his eyes and nose peeking out from underneath.

  “You look exhausted.”

  “This is the first time I skipped a day… Stress wears me out.”

  “Then… then stop it.”

  “Ohh, never thought of that.” He turns his blue eyes to me, and at my smile, his expression softens.

  Slowly, he pulls the blanket down from his chest and spreads his legs slightly. Am I supposed to sit there?

  “Come here.”

  “Are you sure it’s a good idea?”

  “Afraid I’ll eat you?”

  “Honestly, I’d be happy if you did.” I mutter quietly as my gaze lingers on his bare chest. His eyes roam over me the same way.

  I don’t want to stretch the moment any further, I slide between his legs, and he pulls the blanket over both of us.

  He doesn’t hold me too tightly, but not too gently either. With his chin resting on my shoulder, he watches the animated show, but once again, I can only focus on him. I can feel his heartbeat, strong and rapid, yet nothing shows on his face or in his posture. He seems so closed off, and that terrifies me. Will I ever be able to see completely into his mind?

  As I ponder this, I feel his lips against my neck, his warm breath brushing my skin. He doesn’t kiss me, yet a shiver runs down my spine without question.

  “Am I being childish?” His question catches me off guard, and I have no idea how to respond. “I trust you, but I trust the others much less.”

  “The others?”

  “Like Christopher, for example. And who knows who else might have ulterior motives when it comes to you.”

  “You think I don’t handle crisis situations well?” I try to make eye contact with him, but given our position, even attempting it seems impossible.

  “Why? Do you handle them well?” I hum softly. He might be right, if Jason hadn’t been there, that meeting could have ended badly. “See? You don’t handle them well. And because of all the rumors, it’s not even obvious that I’m here for you.”

  “You’re here for me?” I counter, making him lift his head. “You disappeared. I can’t even be sure you’ll be part of my life at all. Who knows when you’ll disappear again?”

  “I want to be here. That’s what matters, isn’t it? The rest doesn’t.”

  Support creative writers by reading their stories on Royal Road, not stolen versions.

  “You whisper fairy-tale lies in my ear.”

  “This isn’t impossible,” he murmurs, resting his head back into the crook of my neck. I skeptically shift my gaze back to the screen.

  “You don’t have to be afraid,” I whisper, but he only exhales sharply in response before sinking his teeth into my neck with such intensity that I moan from the pain. I squeeze my eyes shut, enduring as his teeth slowly, painfully merge with my flesh. When he finally lets go, I touch the bitten spot with a sigh.

  “I’m not afraid. I’m jealous.”

  “In that case, yes, you are being childish.” I don’t even understand what that was supposed to accomplish.

  I can feel the marks his teeth left under my fingertips, throbbing, aching. And if I feel his touch for months, will I carry this brand for the rest of my life?

  “It’s obvious, only children mark what’s theirs. But if this is what being in love means… then I don’t mind that you bring out the child in me.”

  I don’t know what’s come over him to make him speak so openly, but it’s about time he shut his mouth.

  I turn to him, making him lift his head, and when he does, I take his face in my hands and kiss him. It’s not the kind of kiss that makes one’s soul tremble with love, it’s the kind that makes every fiber of your being vibrate. He isn’t surprised. He doesn’t hesitate for even a second. Wrapping an arm around my waist, he leans back on the couch, pulling me with him onto his chest.

  Time had always passed us by, but now, it feels like we’ve broken the speed of light.

  I brace myself against his bare chest with one hand while the other supports me beside his head. He pulls me closer, forcing me to lie fully against him. His long fingers slip under my shirt, first caressing my back gently, then gripping the fabric and tugging it upward. It’s painfully obvious that this is as far as our self-restraint can go. I want him so much that I don’t even recognize myself.

  I run my fingers through his black hair, gripping it tightly. I love how he groans into my mouth under the weight of euphoria, I want to hear that sound again and again throughout our relationship.

  He tilts his head back toward the ceiling with a deep sigh, and I plant a soft kiss on his neck while he peels away my top layer of clothing. It flusters me a little, he has stripped me both mentally and physically for himself. Overcome by childish shyness, I press my bare chest against him.

  There is no hesitation. He grabs my neck and pulls me into another kiss, our lips locking once more. I don’t hesitate either. My nails drag down his side all the way to his lower abdomen, but before I can explore further, he catches my hand, pulls away, and locks eyes with me.

  “The phone’s ringing.”

  “What?”

  “Shivers by Ed Sheeran is playing.”

  “My phone is ringing…” I think, looking down at the man beneath me. His face is flushed, his eyes glistening with desire, his heart pounding as if it might burst from his chest. “But why should we care?”

  “Because this is the third time it’s rung.”

  “What?! Who the hell is dying?!” I immediately scramble off him, covering my chest as I rush to the bedroom. I don’t even check who’s calling, I just pick up.

  “Something came up…” Mark’s voice rings clear from the other end of the line. I’m momentarily stunned, unsure how to process the information. “I’m free in an hour until three. Does that work for you?”

  “Of course! See you in an hour at the usual restaurant.” I don’t even wait for his response before ending the call. Taking small steps, I approach Dante. He’s lying in the same position, eyes shut, trying to steady himself. The best thing I can do is not disturb him. “The meeting with Mark is in an hour.”

  “Fantastic…” I turn my head away and go back to getting dressed.

  So much for waiting before taking things to the next level, one intense kiss was all it took, and we completely lost our heads.

  My mother would surely be so proud of me, of my mindset, and of how easily it all crumbled. I step to the wardrobe, open its door, and grab the first bra that comes to hand. As I start putting it on, I catch Dante in the corner of my eye, leaning against the doorframe. I have no idea what I should say to him after what just happened, so I stay silent and focus on fastening my bra instead.

  Luckily, he doesn’t seem eager to discuss the past few minutes either. Instead, he closes the distance between us, gently moves my hair aside, and helps with the clasp.

  “Sorry about earlier.”

  “I wasn’t resisting.” I turn to face him, my gaze slowly trailing to the chair where his suit from yesterday rests. “I guess you don’t feel like walking around in that.”

  “You guess right. But do I have another choice?”

  “Mark’s old clothes?” He considers it for a moment, then nods.

  I need a few minutes to dig out the clothes and lay them on the bed. While he looks through them, I finish dressing. Twenty minutes later, I’m busy straightening my hair. I’d tie it up, but I want to hide the hickey and the lovely bite mark Dante left behind.

  It’s not a pretty sight, but I guess this won’t become a habit.

  Dante examines himself in the mirror, wearing the green sweater and ripped black jeans I gave him. He doesn’t seem comfortable, though he doesn’t look bad in them.

  “Why not just tie your hair up?”

  “The bite mark is swollen, and, well… you left a hickey too. It’s not exactly a great look.”

  “Really?” He steps closer, lifting my brown strands and silently studying his handiwork before releasing my hair. “Does it hurt?”

  “Yes. Feels like my flesh is rotting.”

  “Well then, we’ll have to find an alternative.”

  “An alternative?”

  “Never mind. Just hurry up so we can go.” I glance at him, unsure what to make of his faint smile, but I could get used to having this cheerful version of him around.

  I don’t take much with me, just my phone and wallet, which I stuff into my pocket. Throwing on my sweater, we head for the car.

  We linger by the vehicle for a bit, tossing Dante’s suit into the back seat and sharing a cigarette, leaning against the hood. Finally, we set off toward that certain restaurant.

  We park near the place, right next to Mark’s car. That alone stirs up a bit of anxiety. Or rather… it’s not Mark I’m afraid of, but everything that’s about to follow. I have no idea how a conversation like this is supposed to go after all this time.

  “Nervous?”

  “Of course. Mark is important to me.”

  “Don’t worry. I’ll be right here to support you.” He pats my thigh with a faint smile before stepping out of the car. He doesn’t open the door for me, simply waits patiently while I collect myself. It doesn’t take long. The moment I step out, he locks the car with a button. “Shall we?”

  “Yeah.”

  We walk slowly toward the restaurant, but as soon as Mark and I spot each other on the terrace, our expressions couldn’t be more different. While I’m surprised by how good he looks with his grown-out platinum-blond-dyed hair, his eyes burn with anger. In a sharp motion, he knocks back his chair as he stands, ready to leave. Instinctively, I rush to him and grab his hand.

  “Please, don’t do this.”

  “We’d be better off if I left now.” Despite his calm voice, he nearly yanks his fingers free from my grip. Even so, I grab onto his arm.

  “You have no idea how important this is to me!”

  “Oh really? Should I?”

  “Please, Mark, just calm down,” Dante speaks up, now standing beside us. Mark exhales sharply as he looks him over, his gaze practically sparking with fury.

  “Why the hell are you wearing my clothes?”

  “We’ll explain everything, just…”

  “Let’s have a coffee,” Dante suggests, sensing my struggle to find the right words. Mark’s stubbornness doesn’t waver for even a second, he does everything he can to push me away firmly, yet without hurting me. “If Nina means that much to you, then fine. Go ahead and leave, I’ll take care of her.”

  “No, not you… definitely not you, Dante.” Despite his mocking smile, Mark pulls me slightly closer. And I have no idea what’s going to happen next.

  “Then I’ll go order our coffee,” Dante says, walking inside the restaurant, leaving Mark and me alone for the first time in weeks. I let go of his hand and step back toward the table. I could cry, but instead, I just set his chair upright.

  “So… looks like you two got together.”

  “I wouldn’t call it a relationship.”

  “And yet, your neck is covered in marks.”

  “There’s a reason for that.” I sit down as Mark does the same. “But it’s not that important.”

  “Sure, not important. So, what did you want to talk about?”

  “Let’s wait for Dante.”

  “Why does he have to be here?!”

  “Don’t act like a child.”

  “I’m trying to be more mature than the both of you!” I flinch as he leans closer to the table, but I don’t know why. He has never hurt me, and he never would.

  At this point, the conversation comes to a halt, I’m too afraid to speak, and Mark has no desire to talk to me.

  “Sorry, the drinks will be here soon. I ended up not waiting for them,” Dante says as he sits between us at the round table. And just like that, the moment I dreaded the most begins, neither Dante nor I can find the words to speak, while Mark just sits there, waiting: having nothing to say.

  Even after the drinks arrive, the silence lingers. Dante fidgets, and I have no idea how to begin.

  “I didn’t sign up for this. I have no interest in you two.” Mark says, attempting to get up again, but I touch his hand to stop him.

  “Why did you give Dante my old phone number?” I ask directly. Our eyes lock, and for a moment, I think this will be the kind of stare-down where he provides a satisfying explanation and all the puzzle pieces fall into place. But instead, he scoffs in disbelief.

  We are the fuel to his sparkling eyes.

  “You two seriously feel no shame.”

  “Should we?” Dante blinks, genuinely confused. I have to admit, I don’t fully understand either.

  “Alright, fine, I’ll explain. But you both shut up and listen, got it?”

  Dante stays silent. I nod.

  “You, dear Dante, became such an asshole that words can’t even describe it! You ignored Nina for weeks after you kissed her, and then you come to me… Me, asking why I didn’t give you her correct number? You have no idea how broken she was because of you. And you think I would have handed her over to you just so you could shatter her even more?”

  “But…”

  “No ‘but,’ Dante! Nina tried to reach out to you when all those rumors started, but you didn’t even bother to show up and clear things up!”

  “How do you know about the rumors?” I ask. His mouth falls open slightly, his eyebrows raise, and he takes a deep breath.

  “Just because you avoided me during that time, as if someone was paying you to, I was still getting updates from James and William. But I was nice, wasn’t I? I didn’t show up at your doorstep to break your nose Dante. I didn’t come barging in with a ‘love package’ for you either. I believed you’d get over it on your own and eventually reach out. But no… you didn’t. Instead, you went on a date with Christopher!”

  “That wasn’t a date!”

  “No? Yes? Okay… What do I know, right? I’m just your best friend, the one you completely forgot about over a guy. I had to hear every little detail about your life from someone else.”

  “Look, Mark, I get why you’re upset, but I’m a grown man, and Nina isn’t a little girl either. Why didn’t you just let me talk to her about the rumors?”

  “And besides, you’re the one who told me to ignore you because you didn’t know what you felt for me,” I add quietly before Mark can respond.

  That’s when he slams his hand on the table, pulling a cigarette pack from his pocket with the other. I’ve never seen him this shaken before, his loud frustration unsettles me.

  “Listen to me, you asshole,” he says, voice calm despite his choice of words. Maybe it’s because he’s lighting a cigarette. “Why didn’t I let you? Because you’re an emotional-idiot. And… oh wait, is there really any other reason needed? Your last relationship ended the same way, just like you did with Nina. You keep making the same mistake over and over in every relationship. No thanks, I’d rather spare Nina from that. And speaking of Nina, darling…” He takes a deep drag from his cigarette. At this point, I can’t even look at him. “You’re really surprised by all this? I confessed my love to you ages ago, and you said you didn’t want me. I got it. And you know what? You were right. I can’t even tell you how grateful I am that you turned me down. As the years passed and we grew up, I realized that to me, you’re nothing more than a sister. Cliché as hell, I know, but that’s how I feel. I was just a little thrown off by the fact that you fell for the emotionally incompetent, unpredictable Dante Ross. And what’s worse, you didn’t even trust me enough to tell me! I always tried to protect you from this asshole! And you both thought I’d just play along with all of this? Sure, you have my blessing! Two love-blind idiots… You do realize the world doesn’t revolve around just the two of you.”

  “I take offense to that!” Dante’s sudden reaction catches me completely off guard. His usually pleasant voice now sounds more like a thunderclap than a soft breeze. “How could you assume I’d make the same mistake again!? I’ve grown up!”

  “Oh really? Because that’s not what it looks like,” Mark scoffs bitterly, and his mocking laughter sends chills down my spine. Hesitantly, I reach for my glass and take a sip. “I’ve known you forever. Have you forgotten how we used to go to your place after school to play games? Or how we’d sneak cigarettes behind the school building? I haven’t forgotten, we were always there for each other. And this is how you repay me? By destroying the girl who means the world to me?!”

  “If you were so worried about Dante, why didn’t you worry about Chris?!” Yes, I’m angry too. If he was so scared that something like this was going to happen, why didn’t he fear it happening with Chris instead? His anger is completely nonsensical!

  “I was worried about him, but now you expect me to take your phone from you, block him, and forbid you from talking to him?! I… I was angry when I found out you started talking to him! I know exactly what Chris is like, and I know how naive you are! I never supported your relationship!”

  “Why, what’s wrong with Chris?”

  “He’s a worthless drugged-up rat, and he’ll blame his mental health for being an idiot.”

  “You knew about him all along?”

  “Why, Dante, didn’t you?” he replies, but at this point, I’m not sure if I should say anything. “It was too obvious, and you, Nina, went on a date with him.”

  “But it wasn’t a date! Mark, understand, it wasn’t a date!”

  “Are you calming yourself down or me?” I look up sharply at his question, feeling his fingers on my face as he tries to look me in the eyes. He’s no longer angry, much more sad and worried. “It scares you that you were alone with a guy like him, right?”

  “You have no idea how much.” I touch his hand resting on my cheek, but he pulls his fingers away and sighs loudly.

  “I tried to warn Chris when you went with him to get the bike earlier, that this couldn’t turn into something regular, that he can’t mess with you, but the drugs… They completely suppress him, but don’t worry, I’ve made sure he doesn’t have access to anything that alters his mind recently.”

  “What? How?”

  “What? You don’t know?”

  “What don’t we know?” Dante joins in, cigarette between his lips.

  “You don’t know who Chris’s supplier is?”

  “We know him?!”

  “You know what? I’ll leave that to you, think about all the things that happened around you while you were only trying to fix your little world.”

  “Look, Mark, we don’t really hate each other, do we?” Dante says, and Mark leans on the table with an indifferent look, but gives him his full attention. “It was just the lack of communication that tore us apart. I didn’t talk to Nina, Nina didn’t talk to you, and, as hard as it is to admit, we forgot about you, you’re right, we fucked up, you’re our friend.”

  “The reason I’m talking to you now, Mark, is because I want to change that. I want you to be part of my life again.” My voice sounds so desperate, it surprises me that while Dante places his hand on my thigh to encourage me, Mark touches my hand.

  “I’m angry, but I’m here.”

  “But you wanted to leave!”

  “But I didn’t!”

  “I think… I think I'm bothering you two.” Dante’s words definitely surprise me, but it’s as if Mark had been waiting for this. “I’ll go back to university, and you two fix what I’ve completely ruined just by being here.”

  “Don’t say that.”

  “No point denying it, Nina.” Slowly, he stands up from the table, smiling as he turns his back, walking away the same way he entered my life.

  I know this smile, it’s not sincere… I would love to scrape the false emotions from his face. Why does what he said scare me so much? I’d love to reach out and beg him to stay, but my tears burn my eyes so much that all I can see is his retreating figure. He feels guilty, how he cowered in front of Mark and helped me when I couldn’t find the words… He really was there for me, he really supported me, and now he’s running again.

  He left his cold coffee on the table, its touch lingering on my body, and Mark doesn’t know what to do with my feelings. He knows why I’m scared, he knows it’s justified, he doesn’t want to lie to me, but he smiles as he lifts my chin with his fingers, pulling a smile onto my lips, his expression serious.

  “He’ll come back to you, and if he doesn’t, I’ll beat him”