nine lives / none left.

"i don't know what you came here for , but i have nothing else to offer ."

hates the implication he's greeted with , but supposes it's warrented with how things played out . his actions or lack there of only fueling the fire until there was nothing left but resentment and regret . " you know i'm not here for that . " taking a step closer , he doesn't dare reach for her . " i miss you . "

"you don't mind being someone's whore , but you hate the thought of being someone's dirty secret ."

palm itches to slap him . instead , balling it into a fist on on her lap , hidden under the table from his prying eyes as they sat elegantly in the middle of a restaurant . she should make a scene . embarrass him just as he had her , but curiosity one out , keeping her seated in place . " did you ask me here in an attempt to slut shame me or did you actually have something to say that isn't a complete waste of my time ? "

"i don't know who i'm meant to defend ."

" you do , " states calmly despite the subtle ache forming in his chest . he shouldn't care . they are just friends . it's what they agreed to be and it was high time he stayed in his place . " you still care enough to hide , so i think your answer is pretty obvious . "

his  jaw  tightens  almost  immediately  at  her  question,  because  he  hears  everything  buried  beneath  it.  every  missed  date.  every  unanswered  text.  every  night  she  sat  alone  waiting  for  him  to  show  up,  wondering  whether  she  was  competing  with  a  part  of  his  life  she  couldn’t  see.  his  gaze  drops  briefly  to  the  floor  between  them  before  lifting  back  to  hers,  and  perhaps  for  the  first  time  all  evening,  there’s  no  resistance  left  in  him.  no  carefully  curated  half-truths.  only  honesty.  “ sometimes, ”  the  admission  settles  heavily  between  them,  “ sometimes  i’m  fighting,  sometimes  i’m  running  it,  sometimes  somebody  gets  hurt  and  i  have  to  deal  with  it  before  it  turns  into  a  bigger  problem. ”  his  thumb  stills  against  her  cheek  as  he  takes  in  the  disappointment  etched  across  her  features  —  and  fuck,  he’d  rather  take  a  punch.  because  he  knows  exactly  what  she’s  seeing,  that  familiar  pattern  of  a  man  disappearing  into  a  world  she  doesn’t  belong  to,  in  the  same  way  her  father  had.  she’d  asked  earlier  if  he  heard  her  and  he  did.  he  heard  every  complaint,  argument,  all  the  times  she  told  him  she  felt  abandoned  without  using  the  word  itself ;  he’d  just  convinced  himself  he  was  keeping  her  safe.  his  gaze  hardens  faintly  when  she  asks  him  how  illegal  it  is  and  he  doesn’t  immediately  answer.  he  studies  the  trembling  uncertainty  while  she  tries  to  hide  the  fear,  before  ultimately  confessing,  “ it’s  illegal  enough  that  if  it  gets  shut  down,  i’m  the  one  taking  the  fall. ”  his  words  aren’t  embellished,  nothing  to  soften  the  edges.  “ i  could  get  arrested. ”  he  steps  closer,  studying her face, trying to pull her out before her mind spirals.  “ you’re  scared  that  one  day  i’m  gonna  disappear  into  it  and  never  come  back, ”  as  though  he’s  spelling  out  the  sentiment  he  can  see  in  her  eyes  that  she  refuses  to  say  out  loud,  cradling  her  jaw  with  infuriating  tenderness  in  quiet  reassurance  that  he  won’t  let  history  repeat  itself. 

his honesty should have been a good sign , but with every admission was another form of truth that even he hasn't admitted yet . regardless of her safety and his intentions to protect her , he's unknowingly put her at an even greater risk . to love was to trust and to trust was to place her heart and soul in his hands an know without a shadow of doubt that he would never let anything happen to it . not by his hand or anyone else's . she doesn't want to accept it , but there is no other way around it . his omission in itself was a lie . one that would not only break them and everything they've fought so hard for , but ruin the person he knows and claims to love . she nods slow , processing everything internally before she's echoing it aloud . " so let me get this straight ... there has been a very real chance of you getting arrested . disappearing from my life where i would have no idea what happened to you and still , you thought it best to hide this from me ? " the level of betrayal that settles between them she isn't ready for . nearly as earth shattering as the idea of losing him by choice is to lose him with zero control . only his own . a decision she can't possibly know he was ever going to share with her . had she not forced him into a corner , would he have ever told her or was she to find out when there was bulletproof glass separating them in a familiar visitation stall , clutching onto the receiver as her world continued to fall apart around her ? pulling away an inch , she tugs his touch away from her face , stepping back to catch her breath . it was all too much . his claim , albeit true , is reason enough to send her spiraling once more . " of course i'm scared of that ! " her voice raises as tears are at risk of falling again . " and what scares me even more is that you were willing to let me go through that , alone ! " he has always been home to her . from a very young age , he's been there to save her from the cruelty the world continued to offer her and it was all a lie . she's never been on stable ground , the safety of his arms an illusion he helped to create . that much he's proven .

" are we still doing the thing where we pretend not to care ? " / @cursedcupids

" i'm not pretending . " there is no humor in his expression , no playful hilt to his words that usually lightened the conversation . a rare sincerity hardened his features . " i told you what this wasn't i don't know what to tell you , but i meant what i said . "

" quit assuming that you know what i'm thinking. " / @cursedcupids

" i'm sorry ! it's just so hard when you're this predictable . " her eyes roll playfully , playing into the dramatics of the other , unable to take her seriously when she's like this . " i mean , come on , rosie . how many times are you gonna chicken out ? "

his  question  lingers  heavily  between  them.  has  he  ever  hurt  you ?  her  gaze  lowers  toward  her  lap,  fingers  retreating  further  into  the  sleeves  of  his  hoodie  as  though  she  might  disappear  inside  it  entirely.  there  still  exists  that  reflexive  urge  to  protect  her  family’s  image  and  preserve  the  illusion  her  father  has  spent  decades  cultivating  beneath  stained  glass  and  scripture.  but  confession  never  feels  like  punishment  with  ambers,  only  understanding.  “ not  like  my  mother, ”  she  answers  softly  after  a  long  pause,  the  words  brittle  enough  to  splinter  her  throat.  “ he’s  never  ..  hit  me  the  way  he  hits  her. ”  yet  her  expression  falters  faintly,  because  cruelty  is  not  always  measured  in  bruises.  sometimes  it  exists  within  sharp  reprimands  delivered  like  sermons.  within  fear  disguised  as  discipline.  within  a  household  where  love  has  always  felt  painfully  conditional.  the  blare  of  the  horn  behind  them  startles  her  from  the  vulnerability  of  the  moment.  by  the  time  his  car  slows  in  front  of  her  house,  her  stomach  tightens  instinctively  at  the  sight  of  it.  pristine  white  shutters,  warm  porch  light,  a  picturesque  home  concealing  rot  beneath  its  foundations.  then  his  offer  comes,  earnest  enough  to  steal  the  breath  from  her  lungs.  she’s  tempted  —  achingly  so  —  because  staying  with  ambers  sounds  perilously  synonymous  to  safety,  softness,  being  cared  for  in  a  way  that  feels  almost  sacred.  “ ambers  .. ”  the  soft  utterance  of  his  name  is  threaded  with  gratitude  and  apprehension  alike.  “ i  can’t  just  not  come  home.  my  sisters  will  worry  and  if  my  father  realizes  i  never  came  back— ”  the  sentence  dissolves  unfinished  between  them.  knows  she  doesn’t  need  to  explain  the  consequences.  her  hand  drifts  toward  the  door  handle  before  stopping  midway,  thoughtful  and  conflicted  hesitation  blooming  visibly  across  her  features.  then,  she  turns  back  toward  him  slowly.  “ but  .. ”  she  begins  softly,  pulse  fluttering  unevenly  beneath  her  ribs.  “ i  could  go  inside  for  a  little  while.  say  goodnight  to  everyone. ”  her  gaze  lifts  toward  him  again,  timid  yet  hopeful  in  a  way  that  makes  her  appear  almost  unbearably  tender.  “ and  maybe  i  could  meet  you  again  afterward ? ”  a  reckless  and  intimate  proposition,  the  first  selfish  choice  she  has  made  in  longer  than  she  can  remember.  somewhere  beneath  the  tenderness,  guilt  presses  insistently  against  her  conscience,  knowing  this  is  the  kind  of  intimacy  that  should  belong  to  teddy  instead.  but  being  around  ambers  has  begun  to  feel  dangerously  natural  in  ways  she  no  longer  knows  how  to  justify  to  herself. 

the hesitation is all he needs to know her answer wasn't no . her father's uncontrolled aggression has spread within the sinclair household , leaving her entire family vulnerable to the wrath of town's most beloved ' godly man ' . " but he has hit you ... " he nearly chokes on the words , a visceral reaction to accepting the hurt and harm done to someone he cares for so deeply , he'd willing take every hit for her and expect nothing in return . doesn't know how to process this calmly . to not allow the once dormant rage overtake all level headed conscious thought and storm through the front door , searching every room until he finds the man whose hands were dripping in sin . what he would do then , there were countless urges flashing through his mind and every single one of them would cause even more pain to her . despite the actions of the man she called her father , he knows just how much she loves him and with a heart so giving as hers , watching her father take a dose of his own medicine would break her heart . that thought alone chills his blood , easing the tension that has wound so tight throughout his body , his knuckles are a ghostly white as he grips the steering wheel . letting go , her releases a breath and turns his body towards grace . his tall frame setting into the drivers seat and a worried expression onto his features . " have you told anyone ? " he presses . hoping she trusts him enough to not only keep her family's secret , but to disclose even more . her answer to leaving isn't a surprise . he knows her well enough to know her family almost just as well and the expectations set for her . now , he knows what happens when she doesn't abide by them and he refused to put her in a situation that could result in her becoming a target once more . a soft smile forms at her compromise , warming his chest , leading that traitorous organ astray once more . " i don't want you to get in trouble grace . " a whispered rejection that is strained , but necessary . " will you text me when everyone's asleep ? i can sleep on the floor i just want to make sure you're okay . "

ODESSA A'ZION photographed by Carin Backoff for ELLE Magazine (March 2026)

THE TWILIGHT SAGA: NEW MOON (2009), dir. by Chris Weitz

he  can  physically  see  the  moment  relief  floods  through  her  system,  the  tension  bleeding  out  of  her.  the  fear  that  shouldn’t  have  existed  in  her  to  begin  with  —  not  with  him. and  yet,  he  understands  it  intimately,  how  she  spent  her  entire  life  bracing  for  abandonment.  men  who  loved  fiercely  but  inconsistently.  men  who  disappeared.  the  thought  of  ever  becoming  another  variation  of  that  for  her  makes  him  feel  ill.  his  hand  remains  anchored  against  her  cheek  while  she  tries  to  process  the  confession,  thumb  brushing  absentmindedly  against  soft  skin  as  though  soothing  her  has  become  second  nature  to  him  somewhere  along  the  way.  maybe  loving  her  has  always  been  the  most  instinctive  thing  he’s  ever  done.  but  then  she  repeats  the  words  back  to  him  and  he  watches  confusion  eclipse  the  relief  in  her  expression  almost  immediately.  his  jaw  shifts  slightly,  but  there’s  no  arrogance  left  in  him  now.  none  of  the  bravado  people  usually  associated  with  kane  hackney,  only  the  quiet  vulnerability  of  a  man  finally  opening  a  door  he’s  spent  years  barricading  shut.  “ it  means  people  fight, ”  he  says  carefully,  his  voice  low  and  even.  “ it’s  organized,  there’s  money  involved.  people  bet  on  it. ”  his  eyes  search  hers,  gauging  every  flicker  of  emotion  crossing  her  face.  “ and  i  run  it. ”  there’s  a  beat  before  he  exhales  softly  through  his  nose,  “ sometimes  i  fight  too. ”  that  part  seems  harder  to  admit.  his  gaze  hardens  faintly  at  himself,  at  the  version  of  him  he’s  spent  years  trying  to  keep  compartmentalized.  he  didn’t  want  her  seeing  that  side  of  him  that  actually  enjoys  the  violence.  his  free  hand  drags  across  the  back  of  his  neck  before  settling  at  her  waist  again,  grounding  himself  there  because  this  conversation  feels  dangerously  close  to  stepping  off  a  ledge  with  no  guarantee  she’ll  follow.  “ it’s  illegal, ”  he  adds  finally,  deciding  she  deserves  the  full  truth  now  that  he’s  started.  “ that’s  why  i  kept  it  from  you. ”  but  even  that  explanation  feels  insufficient,  because  legality  was  never  the  only  reason.  it  was  also  about  protecting  her.  “ the  second  you  know,  you’re  tied  to  it.  if  something  goes  wrong— ”  somebody  getting  busted,  the  cops  asking  questions,  “ i  never  wanted  your  name  anywhere  near  that. ” 

she can't remember the last time she felt this lost . like all the oxygen has been sucked from the room and there is nothing left for her to do but feel herself fade . there's no telling what she would have done had his answer not squashed her fear , but she can't help but feel that the truth wasn't much better . that there wasn't still a very real concern weighing heavy on her chest . sure , she was relieved in a way , but that moment of welcomed peace is quick to falter . the more he explained , the more uncertainty planted roots like an infestation . sprouting seedlings of doubt until a wall of it was built between them again . " so , when you have to leave early or you show up late or not at all ... it's because you're fighting ? or , watching people fight ? " she tries to bury the judgement in her tone . the sour hitch as feelings of jealousy and disappointment seep in through the cracks . kane wasn't like her father , but he wasn't too far off . the differences not distinct enough to put her at ease , at least not yet . the risks her father took , even when his intentions were in the right place , left her feeling lost and alone and the world kane seems to be wrapped up in , might not be so different than the one that destroyed her family . she wants to be okay with it . to be open minded , but the idea of him getting locked away for years is something she's unable to shake . doesn't care about her involvement or what that could mean for her to now be privy to information not meant for her world . it was the possibility of having him ripped away from her and there being absolutely nothing she can do about that . " you said it's illegal ... how illegal ? " needing more information , she's not going to let him off the hook until each and ever question is answered to her satisfaction . if they have any chance of fixing the destruction made my their own hands , if she was going to risk her own well being , and for him , she would ... she needs to know it all . every last detail , no more secrets .

Corteon Moore as Ellis Stevens —FROM, 4x04 "Of Myths & Monsters"

she  falls  quiet  after  his  question,  the  soft  melody  spilling  through  the  speakers  suddenly  seeming  far  too  loud  within  the  confines  of  the  car.  her  fingers  instinctively  tighten  inside  the  sleeves  of  his  hoodie,  twisting  the  fabric  in  small,  nervous  motions  while  her  gaze  remains  fixed  ahead  through  the  windshield.  for  a  moment,  she  wonders  if  she  should  simply  pretend  she  no  longer  remembers  what  she’d  wanted  to  say  at  all.  it  would  be  easier  that  way.  safer.  because  this  is  not  merely  gossip  about  a  father.  this  is  pastor  sinclair,  the  man  half  this  town  respects  with  near  biblical  devotion.  the  man  who  shakes  hands  after  sunday  sermons  while  people  praise  his  wisdom,  his  discipline,  his  virtue.  she’s  spent  her  entire  life  watching  people  look  at  him  like  he  is  touched  by  divinity  itself.  how  could  she  fracture  that  image  now ?  and  even  if  she  did,  who  would  believe  her  over  him ?  and  yet,  ambers  has  always  possessed  the  ability  to  make  honesty  feel  less  frightening.  with  him,  confession  does  not  feel  like  standing  trial  beneath  god’s  watchful  eye.  it  feels  safe,  like  he  would  cradle  even  the  ugliest  parts  of  her  gently  in  his  hands  and  never  recoil  from  them.  “ my  father  gets  angry  sometimes, ”  she  says  finally,  voice  hushed  with  apprehension.  her  eyes  never  leave  the  road  ahead,  even  as  the  vehicle  is  stopped  at  a  light.  “ and  when  he  does  ..  he  takes  it  out  on  my  mother. ”  the  confession  settles  heavily  between  them,  her  shoulders  drawing  inward,  posture  folding  into  itself  as  though  she  regrets  allowing  the  truth  to  escape  at  all.  shame  blooms  hot  beneath  her  skin  despite  knowing  it  does  not  belong  to  her.  “ i  didn’t  really  know  who  else  to  tell, ”  she  admits  softly,  lashes  lowering.  “ i  can’t  tell  anyone  from  church.  they  all  adore  him.  and  i  can’t  tell  teddy  either  .. ”  a  fragile  breath  escapes  her.  “ he’d  lose  his  temper.  he’d  go  after  my  father  and  i  don’t  want  anyone  getting  hurt  because  of  me. ”  the  words  catch  painfully  in  her  throat  before  continuing  quieter  still,  “ sometimes  i  think  maybe  people  only  believe  these  things  happen  in  other  families.  not  ones  like  mine. ” 

ambers isn't religious , in fact , the only reason he found himself seated upon a pew every sunday throughout high school was for the chance to see her . however pitiful it might have been , it made the itchy neck tie and droning sermons worth it  . in his time in the church ,  he also became familiar with pastor sinclair and his strict expectations of not only his congregation, but of his family especially . so , it doesn't come as a surprise to hear a man as godly as him has sins of his own , no matter how much he pretends not to . the sharpened edge in his voice any time he and teddy have been caught outside his home was lethal and the thought of him using such a tone inside put pressure on the organ in his chest . it was heartbreaking to hear her confirm such acts . sad , but not surprising .  ambers has never been known to be the violent type .  one to jump off the handle and allow his emotions to take over all rational thoughts .  has never had to be that guy and for that , he's forever grateful ... but as he watches her cave in on herself as the truth breaks the surface at her lips , as his mind toys with the admission she's just shared , his grip tightens on the steering wheel .  knuckles whitening as a subtle rage shakes off its dust as it awakens within . " has he ever hurt you ? " he asks gently . his voice low and soft and honest . hoping she takes his words as a means to understand . as her friends' endless curiosity surrounding the secret she just shared and not as a reason to act ,  despite how even the idea of it urged him outside of his own body .  “  you don’t have to answer if you don’t want to ,  but grace …  ”  words trail as he searches for words to explain his concerns when the horn of the car behind them sounds ,  startling him out of searching gaze ,  pinned to her profile .  it takes effort for him to redirect his attention back towards the road and ease off the brakes .  he doesn’t regret asking her to share ,  but the idea of how he nearly took away her only outlet to share such sensitive information was enough to direct some of his anger internally .  he allows the music to fill the space between as he desperately tries to focus on getting her home safely .  a home that might not be safe for her at all .  pulling his car to a stop in front of the pastors house ,  he looks at the picture perfect home through a different lens .  “  if you want ,  you can stay at my place tonight .  ”  he blurts finally ,  startling the near silence as his fear of letting her leave takes over completely .

her  question  doesn’t  offend  him  nearly  as  much  as  it  devastates  him.  because  of  course  that’s  where  her  mind  goes.  kane  had  spent  half  his  childhood  overhearing  hushed  conversations  through  cracked  doors  and  dimly  lit  kitchens,  his  father  speaking  in  low  voices  about  hers.  arrests.  narcotics.  words  he  hadn’t  fully  understood  at  the  time,  but  words  that  still  settled  heavy  in  his  chest  whenever  delilah  wandered  into  the  room  with  scraped  knees  and  tired  eyes.  even  as  a  boy,  he  remembered  thinking  that  if  the  world  insisted  on  failing  her,  then  he’d  simply  have  to  becoming  stronger  than  it.  maybe  that  was  where  it  all  started.  the  protectiveness.  the  violence.  the  inability  to  watch  her  hurt  without  wanting  to  rip  the  source  apart  with  his  bare  hands.  so  no,  her  conclusion  doesn’t  come  as  a  surprise.  if  anything,  it  carves  another  wound  into  him  because  it  means  he’s  let  history  repeat  itself  enough  for  her  to  feel  cornered  by  it.  his  expression  softens  almost  instantly,  all  the  previous  tension  ebbing  from  his  features  as  his  hand  rises  to  cradle  her  face.  his  thumb  drags  gently  across  her  cheek,  smoothing  over  the  stain  gathered  there  like  he  could  physically  erase  the  anguish  from  her.  “ no,  baby, ”  he  murmurs  quietly,  firmly.  “ no.  never  that. ”  and  god,  he  hates  the  fear  in  her  eyes.  for  a  moment,  he  debates  lying.  something  sanitized  and  easier  to  digest.  he  could  continue  to  protect  her  the  way  he  always  has,  by  compartmentalizing  the  ugliest  parts  of  himself.  but  standing  here  now,  with  tears  still  clinging  to  her  lashes  and  her  heart  split  open  in  her  hands  for  him  to  see,  the  deception  suddenly  feels  more  cruel  than  the  truth  ever  could.  because  delilah  has  survived  almost  every  season  of  him  already.  the  boy  with  blood  on  his  knuckles,  the  teenager  dragged  away  in  handcuffs,  the  man  still  trying  to  outrun  the  temper  brewing  beneath  his  skin.  his  jaw  tightens  slightly  before  he  finally  exhales,  “ i  run  a  fight  club. ” 

the fear holds her next breaths captive .  unsure of what she will do if he says yes .  if he turns out to be just like her father . not a bad man ,  but a man who could never give her the love she deserved .  a man who frequently left her to drown in her own self destruction .  she knew she couldn’t do it again .  live in the blur ,  in the unknown where she waited until her view cleared and could finally focus on something someone else .  how would she survive such a fate when kane has always been that clarity for her .  the one to pull her out of the deep and remind her of life's truest meaning .  it is almost too much for her to attempt to accept . easy ruin of her very being . she can feel herself unravelling like worn thread pooling at his feet , no idea how she can possibly put herself back together if what she’s allowed herself to believe is true  .  his touch is a painful sort of longing that breaks whatever walls she has left .  no ,  baby    never that .  the words echo in her mind like a lifesaving prayer .  relief dragging her down and pulling her back from the ledge at which she once stood . she can’t even get herself to continue questioning the reasoning for his frequent disappearances ,  too caught up in the solace of knowing he wasn’t just like her father to even attempt to prompt for the truth . grateful to his comforting touch and trust to tell her without needing to pry further . not that she was in any position to do as much . when the truth comes out , her attention is back . her brows furrowed slightly as she searches his features , expectantly waiting for him to explain .  “  a fight club …  ”  she parrots ,  slow to grasp what he's just admitted to .  “  i don’t understand .  ”  why would this need to be kept from her ? what even is a fight club ? was it illegal ? is that what stopped him from telling her sooner ? question after question cloud her thoughts . her mouth opening to ask only for another to pop up , leaving her gaping like a fish until she can let one slip . " what does that even mean ? "