The last few hours clung to my limbs like thick fog. Malaric's laughter still haunted me, hoarse, broken, yet razor-sharp in his words. "You kiss her to avoid having to talk." He didn't know me, not really – and yet his eyes, so similar to Alaric's, had seen something I couldn't name. That he was such a stranger to me only made it worse. How could someone I barely knew hit me as if he'd lived inside my mind for years?
I lay on my bed, phone on my chest, letting my thoughts spiral. Every image was like a wound. Alaric, who had held me, not with words but with muscles, posture, closeness. His silence afterward, weighing heavier than any explanation. Vanessa, constantly spreading new rumors at school, photos, looks, laughter that swept through the entire class. Fiona, who had defended me, even when she herself became a target.
