Melody's POV
I should have walked away.
Left him standing there with his soft voice and harder eyes. Pretended his words didn't sink into my skin like heat. But I didn't.
I lingered.
In the dark corner just outside the ballroom. Marble floor cold under my heels, the city lights blurred through the tall windows.
And he followed.
Marvis didn't say anything at first. Just stood there beside me, his hands tucked into his pockets, jaw clenched like he was swallowing everything he wanted to say.
The silence stretched between us.
Tense. Fragile.
I folded my arms to keep from reaching for him. "You shouldn't be here."
"Neither should you," he said quietly.
"I was invited."
"So was I."
I turned my head to him. "Then why are we out here instead of in there pretending to be normal?"
He hesitated.
Then, "Because I can't pretend with you."
That stopped me.
A beat passed. Two.
"Melody," he said again softer this time, like my name was a secret.
My heart thudded against my ribs. Too loud. Too fast.
"You hurt me," I said, not accusingly. Just honest.
"I know."
"You threw me out like I meant nothing."
"I was trying to protect you."
I laughed under my breath. "You don't get to do that anymore."
"I didn't know how else to keep you safe," he said, voice strained. "Everything I touch breaks, Melody. You were… are… the only thing I didn't want ruined."
The words felt like a bruise I couldn't cover.
"You already ruined it," I whispered.
He stepped closer, and I backed away until my spine met the cold window. He didn't touch me, but I could feel the tension bleeding off him.
"I never stopped thinking about you," he admitted. "Even when I wanted to."
My throat tightened.
He was saying the things I wanted to hear…but too late. Too slow.
Silence again. But this time it was heavy.
Guilt flickered in his expression. "I'm sorry."
"Don't be," I said. "You made your choice. I made mine."
His hand brushed mine…just a whisper of contact. I didn't move. Couldn't.
"You still feel like home," he said, barely audible.
That broke me a little.
I turned my head away, blinking hard. "This isn't love, Marvis. This is grief in disguise."
He didn't deny it. Didn't argue.
He just stood there, his presence magnetic, maddening. Every part of me wanted to fall into him again. But the rational part the bruised part kept me still.
After a long moment, he asked, "Did you really kill Darius?"
I looked at him sharply. "You heard."
He nodded once.
"Does it matter?" I asked.
He held my gaze. "Yes."
I studied him. "Then the answer's yes. I did. And I'd do it again."
He didn't flinch.
"Why?" he asked.
"Because he had blood on his hands. My parents' blood. And I needed to look him in the eye before I took him out."
Something flickered in his expression… pain, pride, regret.
"You did it without me," he said.
I narrowed my eyes. "You kicked me out, remember? You didn't want to be part of my world. So I became part of yours instead."
He let out a breath like he'd been holding it for days.
We stood like that… wounded, angry, exposed.
And somehow, still wanting.
The music inside was a distant hum now. The party forgotten. The world narrowed to just this: two broken people who couldn't seem to walk away from each other, no matter how hard they tried.
Finally, Marvis leaned in just a little, his forehead resting against mine. He didn't kiss me.
But God, it felt like he did.
"I don't know how to fix us," he murmured.
I whispered, "Then don't. Just… let it be real this time."
His breath caught. And for the first time in weeks, so did mine.