The stairwell had gone quiet again.
But the silence wasn't calm. It was the moment before —before glass shatters, before bone breaks, before the thing inside him wins.
Blake stood a few feet away, chest rising and falling unevenly. Hands trembling slightly at his sides. Not enough for most to notice.
But Jade did.
She was watching carefully now. And she could see it—the fight inside him wasn't over. Not even close.
"Blake…" she whispered.
He flinched. His name sounded like it hurt. "You need to leave."
She shook her head immediately. "No."
His jaw tightened. "I'm serious."
"And I'm not going anywhere."
He stared at her. Trying to determine if she understood what she was saying. Then hands through hair, turning away, pacing. "You don't understand what this is."
She crossed her arms. "Then explain it."
He stopped. Turned back slowly. Expression strained—staying in control taking everything he had. "I told you it started after the accident." She nodded. "But I didn't tell you the worst part."
Her stomach tightened. "What?"
Shaky breath. "It doesn't stop. "
She frowned. "What doesn't?"
He tapped his temple. "The thoughts." Voice dropping. "Every time I get angry, they get louder. " Fingers curling into fists. "Every time someone hurts me…" Pause. "Or hurts you. "
Her chest constricted. "Worse how?"
Short, bitter laugh. "It pushes. " Jaw tightening. "Tells me what I should do."
"Like what?"
He didn't answer immediately. Then—"That people don't change." Eyes darkening. "That they'll hurt you eventually." Pause. "So you hurt them first. "
She shook her head. "That's not you."
His expression tightened. "You don't know that anymore." Breathing shifting. Faster. Uneven. He turned away suddenly. "You being here makes it worse. "
She frowned. "Worse?"
Quiet laugh. "You think it's random?" Looking back at her. "It's not." Voice dropping to something almost intimate, almost threatening. "It's because of you. "
Her heart skipped. "What?"
He held her gaze. "It knows what you mean to me."
The words landed heavily. Then he went still. Shoulders tensing. Hands curling tight. She stepped forward instinctively. "Blake?"
Breath hitching. "No…" Eyes shutting tight. "Stop. "
Her heart pounded. "Blake."
Hands shaking now. "I said stop. " Pressing against his head like physically blocking the thoughts out.
She moved closer. "Blake, look at me."
He did.
And for a second—she saw it. Not anger. Not pain. Something unstable. Something he was desperately holding back.
"You need to go," he said quietly.
"I'm not leaving."
Voice cracking. "Jade…" Swallowing hard. "If you stay…" Hands trembling. "I might not be able to stop myself."
Fear flickered through her. Real fear.
But she didn't step back.
She stepped closer. "Blake," she whispered.
Her voice grounded him—just enough. Breathing slowing slightly. Not calm. Less out of control.
"Why?" he asked hoarsely.
She didn't hesitate. "Because you didn't leave me."
The words cut through everything. He stared at her. The tension shifted. Not gone. Quieter.
For now.
She stepped closer again. "You're not fighting this alone anymore."
He didn't answer.
But he didn't step away either.