she's a rattlesnake

she was concerned about him long before tonight , back when the two of them hadn’t even consummated their marriage yet . he worked long hours and never missed a beat , despite always looking his best , she could tell because she recognized it in her brother . felt it when he barely slept next to her , staying up long periods until slumber managed to find him . it got better once they got closer , cuddled into his embrace and feeling as his heart beat slowed until he finally allowed himself to fall sleep much earlier than he had before . “i’m always going to worry about you ,” whispers , fingertips running through the back of his neck where his hair mapped across it . tightening her legs around his waist when he reciprocated the gesture , “i’m better .” maybe that’s a lie to keep him from losing his head , but she felt much more in tune with her body then she had earlier that night back at the club . she never wanted to feel that way again . “mm , i get you all to myself ? i should get drugged more often .” leans back to look into his eyes , kissing the corner of his mouth to let him know she’s joking .

her joke lands like a knife dragged across an old wound. his expression doesn’t immediately change, but the image returns anyway of the mezzanine, a stranger’s hand where it never should have been, the memory vivid enough to make his jaw tighten. for a moment, he simply stares at her then he recognizes she’s joking, deflecting, as she tries to lighten a terror neither of them have fully processed yet. a slow exhale leaves him as one arm tightens around her waist, drawing her closer against his chest. his free hand slides into her hair before he presses a lingering kiss against her forehead. “ don’t ever say that again, ” the reprimand lacks real bite, softened by relief and exhaustion alike. “ i’ve spent the last twelve hours trying not to kill somebody, sweetheart. ” his gaze lingers on her face, equal parts exasperated and grateful to find her teasing him at all. “ but yes, ” he concedes, brushing his thumb along her temple, “ i’m all yours. ” a beat. “ for today. ” the corner of his mouth twitches faintly. his hand never leaves her as he shifts slightly to settle her more comfortably in his lap. and because his version of tenderness had always been deeply procedural, manifesting less through comforting words and more through an obsessive need to control every conceivable outcome — “ we’re getting something in you before you start pretending you’re fine. and the physician is checking on you again later. so, unfortunately for you, my plans for the day involve hovering. ”

“i don’t care if he is —“ doesn’t mean it the way it comes off , clearing his throat . “i just haven’t seen him yet . the last thing i need is to show up like this and ambush him .” he wouldn’t forgive himself . his brother deserved more than that . a proper conversation even if he wouldn’t hear what he had to say . can’t really blame him for it either . roles reversed , he’d probably be pissed too . it’s why he’s not at all surprised by her cold nature , smoke drifting between them from her mouth . the same mouth he’s kissed before , once upon a time ago . when they get closer and closer to the woods , he looks at her when the name drops . toby . remembers him from grade school . adamant little prick that he is . can only imagine how much worse he’s gotten . “great . just the person i wanted to see when i came back .” a chance at easing the tension but it just makes it worse because though there is no indication he’s become a problem , rhys has no doubt in his mind that he hasn’t . “no promises .”

willow had already decided the brothers would have to sort themselves out. she had no desire to wedge herself between them, not when she knew how complex sibling relationships could become. her own was proof enough, she and her sisters drifting onto entirely different paths somewhere between girlhood and womanhood. “ trust me, ” she tells him, her eyes fixed ahead, “ if you end up seeing toby tonight, he’ll be a lot more uncomfortable than you are. ” the music grows louder as they approach, firelight illuminated in molten bursts of orange and gold. she flicks her cigarette into the dirt, straightening almost instinctively as the social mask settles into place. the version of willow everyone else receives. almost immediately, voices rise to greet her: ‘ there she is ! ’ a girl with smudged eyeliner and a denim jacket drapes an arm around her shoulders. ‘ took you long enough, ’ another calls from beside the fire. these were the girls respectable davidson families warned their daughters about, the girls pastor sinclair would have disapproved of on principle alone. and somehow, they had become hers. she laughs softly, allowing herself to be pulled into the orbit she’d built while rhys was gone. then one of them notices him, her gaze traveling between willow and the man beside her. ‘ well, i’ll be damned. ’

she had been staring at the wad of cash on the table. it was like a taunt of reality. her mind a ruthless rattle against this newfound cage. this is what you do now, this is what you owe. pay up before more than just your heart strings become the price. “you know,” she tried her best to go somewhere else, drift away to that place in her mind. but she was here, stuck—rooted to the floor. “i’m not at the club.” her throat bobbed, raw and achey around the lump that summed up exactly the words she tried to swallow. “you don’t have to do that.”

the apartment felt perilously close to normal this morning as the muted glow of dawn slips between half-drawn blinds, her still here. a dangerous illusion. his gaze lingers on the cash only after she spoke, jaw tightening as realization settles in with all the grace of a knife between ribs. he’d left it there without thinking — or maybe he’d thought about it too much. maybe this was easier than acknowledging the precarious attachment taking root where neither of them had intended. his eyes drop away from hers. “ that’s what this is, isn’t it ? ” the words sound hollow even to him. “ take it. ”

the question catches him off guard in a way not even gunmen and rivals could. after everything that happened, after the fear and uncertainty she’d been forced to endured, she’s worried about him. the sentiment feels both profoundly unfair and catastrophically endearing. his thumb brushes absentmindedly across her knuckles. “ i’m handling it, ” lacking precise detail by design, deliberate in its response. the same answer he gives to every problem that crosses his desk, though this one has lodged itself far deeper than any business dispute ever could. “ you don’t need to worry about that. ” when her fingertips trace the exhaustion written across his face and she asks if he’s slept, a faint exhale leaves him. “ no, ” he doesn’t deny it nor apologize for it. “ i’ll sleep later. ” he refuses to tell her about the hours spent reviewing security footage frame by frame, doesn’t mention the interrogation either. he certainly won’t admit how many times he checked to make sure her chest was still rising and falling while she slept. the moment she crawls into him, his arms are wrapping around her without hesitation. one settles securely around her waist while the other finds the back of her head, guiding her against his chest. last night she was slipping through his fingers, disappearing behind drugged confusion. today she’s here — warm, breathing, real. for a brief moment, he closes his eyes and simply holds her tighter. relief is a dangerous thing that weakens defenses, makes a man honest. “ the only thing i care about right now is you getting better. ” a beat. “ i’ve already moved my meetings. ” as if postponing an empire is the most ordinary decision in the world. “ i’m not going anywhere. ”

she can feel the weight of his stare even in the darkness. a younger version of herself might have melted beneath that attention, cherished the sensation of being seen by him. now, she merely takes another drag from her cigarette. “ nervous ? ” the corner of her mouth twitches faintly, smoke unfurling between them as she walks. “ relax. rook probably won’t be there. ” a beat before she lists off who might be in attendance, “ some people we grew up with. some people i met after. ” people who belonged to a life rhys had never been part of. her gaze remains fixed ahead as the distant glow of the bonfire begins to emerge through the trees, accompanied by faint music drifting through the night air. “ oh, ” the word arrives almost as an afterthought. “ toby might be there. ” and just like that, she drops the name between them. with his friends. the same boys who had once mistaken her for something fragile enough to break. for a while, she allowed those memories to fester beneath her skin like a poison. then she’d learn something infinitely more useful: predators lose their power when they realize their victim survived. so she stopped hiding, refused to let them see what they’d taken. now, when they looked at her, they saw a woman who had learned the rules of the game and became far better at playing it than they ever were. ahead, firelight flickers between the trees. without breaking stride, she exhales a thin stream of smoke. “ try not to start any fights. ”

the question catches her off guard. tossed out with the sort of simplicity that makes her wonder if he has any idea what he’s actually asking. her eyes drops instinctively to the ground. “ oh. ” a nervous laugh escapes her. she tucks a strand of hair behind her ear, suddenly fascinated by the sidewalk beneath her feet. “ no, ” she says softly. “ i think he just … ” her voice trails off. cares. the word sticks in her throat. “ he’s just nice. ” dallas is more than nice. he remembers things she mentions once and forgets herself. he waits for her when she’s running late. he never makes her feel like she’s asking for too much. he makes room for her. which should probably mean more than it does. fond despite herself. “ i’ve known him forever. ” as if that explains anything. her fingers tighten around each other. because the truth is that dallas looks at her like she’s someone worth choosing. and standing in front of zeno, she can’t remember the last time she felt chosen at all. “ i think he just worries. ” she immediately feels the need to defend him. trying to explain kindness to someone who doesn’t seem to understand it. and maybe that’s why the ache in her chest feels so unfair. because she knows exactly who the good person is. it just isn’t the man she’s hopelessly in love with. still, when she finally looks back at him, her expression is blushed. hopeful in spite of everything. “ why ? ” she huffs quietly. “ does it bother you ? ”

her question earns a laugh from him, as though she’d proposed the most absurd notion imaginable. his tongue presses against the inside of his cheek, head shaking once before he digs inside his pocket for a cigarette. “ why would it bother me ? ” the flame briefly illuminates the sharp planes of his face before he inhales, exhales, and immediately starts walking again, forcing the conversation forward, forcing her to follow if she intends on keeping up. easier that way, easier than standing still beneath the weight of her hopeful expression. expect he’d noticed it anyway — the blush, the fondness tucked between every hesitant word, the way her voice softened when she talked about dallas. the observation settles beneath his skin with surprising persistence. “ guy follows you around like a lost puppy, ” smoke curls past the corner of his mouth, “ must be exhausting, worrying about you all day. ” his gaze remains fixed ahead, stubbornly avoiding hers. because looking directly at her feels perilously close to acknowledging why he’d asked in the first place. she’d kept defending him: he’s just nice. he worries. i’ve known him forever. a whole litany of excuses delivered with embarrassing sincerity. that drags a smirk from him, “ had a whole list of reasons why he’s great. ” the corner of his mouth twitches upward, “ cute. ” the word lands sharply as silence follows for a few steps, cigarette balanced between his fingers, his shoulders loose, posture unaffected. “ guys don’t usually do all that for nothing, lizzy. ” casual, dismissive, as though the observation means absolutely nothing to him.

he finds amusement hearing about her childhood . one that isn't riddled in trauma and bruises that refuse to fade no matter how much time has passed . another quip is poised at the tip of his tongue which he's forced to bite as she continues . " of course , " words drawl on playfully , eyes rolling , but smiling through it despite the spark getting snuffed out to the flickering ember that refuses to go out . there have been many times , when dropping off grace , teddy would accompany her , taking that same path up the trellis and through her bedroom window with only the moonlight to help guide him . it was a foolish thing to allow jealously to fester when he was the friend , something he so often has to remind himself , but he can't help it . no matter how he's tried to move on , taking the hint with every name drop , his heart still stutters with a simple look or smile . he shouldn't find familiarity and comfort in the same spaces as her boyfriend . for a moment , he thought better of the situation . that maybe he should leave and text teddy to take his place . the only thing to solidify his decision to stay is the idea of her feeling rejected by him , again . eyeing the spot she pats beside her , he lets out a breath and takes a seat at her desk chair , pulling it out to face her before settling . " you know if you need to cry , you know i got you . " the chair swivels from side to side as he tries not to allow his nerves to change their dynamic . " but i'm glad you don't feel the need to cry , even though i can totally understand if you did . "

her gaze follows him as he pulls the desk chair forward instead of taking the offered space beside her. something inside her sinks before she can stop it — a small, inexplicable disappointment swiftly chased away by guilt. this is better, safer, more appropriate. whatever strange ambiguousness has settled between them these past few weeks does not belong perched shoulder to shoulder on her bed in the middle of the night. still, she can’t help but wonder if the choice was intentional. the thought lingers only briefly before his reassurance reachers her, that familiar ache returning immediately. she does know she can count on him, not in the abstract way people often promise support when tragedy strikes, but in the tangible accumulation of years spent proving it. ambers has always shown up, again and again, without being asked nor expecting anything in return. a soft smile finds her lips, “ i know. ” she hugs the pillow a little closer to her chest. “ you’re always there for me. ” the words feel dangerously sincere, carrying far more weight than she intends, so she rushes to lighten them before the silence can examine them too closely. “ besides, ” a faint laugh escapes her, “ i’ve already cried on you once. ” her brows lift playfully, “ i think i’d like to preserve at least a little dignity. ” though humiliation had nearly swallowed her whole at the time, the recollection feels strangely warm now. for a moment she studies him, her expression softening. the conversation has revolved entirely around her for hours now. “ can we talk about something else for a little while ? ” she asks gently before taking pause. “ how are you ? ” ever since that night with the jacket, something has shifted, subtle but perceptible. “ really. ”

the way he says her name almost has her caving completely . throwing caution to the wind and taking another leap of faith hoping that this time he will love her and trust her the way he says he does . it pains her not to do everything in her power to steal away the look on his face . the hopelessness in his voice , but how many times has he heard the same from her ? when she pressed him for answers , begging him to tell her the truth , did he feel this same need to fix it even if it meant sacrificing his own feelings ? she doesn't want to leave him , not really , but what more could they do tonight ? how much of this can be repaired when neither of them can point in a single direction to take ? maybe taking space is what's best for them now . they say , distance makes the heart grow fonder . putting everything into prospective in a way that hopefully they can make genuine progress towards something better . stronger . she expected him to ask her for more . to stay and continue to argue in circles until what ? until there is nothing left to come back from ? until they pushed things too far instead of allowing themselves a moment to think and heal ? she should say no to his offer and order an uber knowing how little control she has over herself when it comes to him . how easily she finds herself taking steps backwards and going back on her word regardless of how broken and battered her heart will be in the end . instead , she finds herself nodding . having no more strength to argue about anything else , least of all how she's making her way home . " okay , " finally agrees as her hands take a final swipe across the skin of her arms before dropping by her sides , but makes no move to leave . " that would be nice , thanks . "

she says yes and the relief that moves through him is so slight it’s almost unnoticeable, gone as quickly as it arrives. nothing has been fixed, not really, the devastation between them still exists. he studies her for a moment, watching the exhaustion settle into her bones as the fight leave her in increments. it hurts in a way he struggles to articulate because after every omission, every disappointment, every wound he’d unknowingly handed her, she’s still standing here trusting him enough to let him take her home. “ okay, ” his voice is quiet, roughened by everything they’ve dragged into the light tonight. then, after a beat, “ thank you. ” not because she’s doing him a favor, but because she didn’t shut him out completely. the silence that follows feel different from the others that have haunted them tonight, no longer sharp enough to cut, only tired. carefully, he reaches for the door and pulls it open for her, waiting, letting her leave first. the old rhythm of them returns without permission, muscle memory forged through years of making sure delilah got home safe long before either of them knew how to name what existed between them. he falls into step beside her once they emerge into the party, shoulders broad enough to create space when the crowd threatens to close around her. if anyone looks their way, he ignores them. if anyone attempts to stop them, a single glance is enough to send them elsewhere. his attention never strays far from her. once they’re outside, he notices her body language that instinctively urges him to shrug off his jacket. though his hand catches the collar, hesitation stopping him briefly, because for the first time in a long time, he isn’t sure what he’s allowed to do. isn’t sure which privileges survived tonight. still, after a moment, he holds the jacket out toward her. no insistence, no expectation, just an offer. “ you look cold. ”

the moment she sees him , she calms down , but just as fast as it comes , it vanishes when she sees the current state he’s in . he hasn’t slept , she could tell just by his eyes alone but the sleeves of his dress shirt rolled and tie forgotten was the final nail in the coffin to confirm her suspicions . a silence overtakes the space between them , tension coiling low and she knows he’s not angry , but she’s angry with herself for letting the night take a turn all because she hadn’t properly used her judgement . she wasn’t stupid , she knew the signs and ignored them , anyways . not on purpose , but out of pure naivety . lesser parts to express her thoughts but they vanish as quickly as they arrive . glancing down at their interlocked hands , she focused on his fingers , toying with each one and thumbing along the wedding band around his ring finger . “i shouldn’t have taken it ,” she whispers , voice hoarse and callous . brows pinch , trying to recall the events -- drinking , dancing , room , water , touch , darkness . fear envelopes her chest , seeing him so close and remembering how easily tonight could have ended differently had he not been there . for a moment , she's scared to say anything else . afraid to even look him in the eye as she complies with her mind to fight through the haze and piece together the evening that led to them here . when she remembers the foreign hands on her skin , she tugs the dress she's wearing down further before letting go of him , playing with her own fingers instead . she's nervous , sick to her stomach and paranoid that though he's there with her , things have changed between them . "are you mad at me ?" pauses , throat closing in around her vocal cords . forces herself to say the words and get it over with . "do you think i'm dirty now ?"

gunnar, one of the few people lucky entrusted with responsibilities he refused to place in anyone else’s hands, had become another problem. the fact that freya had been compromised under his watch was not being ignored, nor forgiven. they’d have that conversation later when tempers were no longer dictating outcomes and facts had been gathered in their entirety. lucky had survived this long enough to understand the difference between immediate emotion and calculated response. right now, there were more pressing matters. his eyes lower briefly when she admits she shouldn’t have taken the bottle. “ you trusted the wrong person. being deceived isn’t a crime, freya. ” a mistake, not a condemnation, and the distinction matters. “ no, ” the single word arrives quietly as he shifts closer, exhaling through his nose. “ i’m angry, but you’re not the person i’m furious with. ” fury had already found its intended destination in the man who did this to her. his gaze follows the nervous movement of her hands, the way she tugs at the dress. before she can pull at it again, his hand settles over hers, stilling the motion. but when her final question lands – do you think i’m dirty now – everything inside him goes still. not because he’s offended, because he’s horrified. his hand rises immediately, fingers settling beneath her chin as he gently guides her gaze back toward his. “ look at me, ” the words are softer than before, “ nothing happened that makes you worth less to me. ” not one single thing, not even one second of that night. his thumb brushes her cheek before he continues. “ i’ve found leads and i’m handling it. ” deliberately vague because he can recognize she doesn’t need the details right now, she just needs certainty. “ no one is touching you again. ” the promise settles between them, unwavering and absolute.

she doesn't have to explain herself to know something happened to her while he was gone . call it a gut feeling -- and his were never wrong . it's what made him take the leap of faith to return . a feeling that he was needed back home , only to find his mother buried next to his father . swallows down the lump in his throat , guilt threatening to consume him , but forces it out before it could make its lethal impact . too much was going on inside his head and heart . on top of her hatred for him and rook not knowing he was back in town , he wasn't sure how to navigate it all . he hadn't thought it through entirely , and rhys myers typically always had a plan . when she changes and meets him again , he was almost convinced himself she was going to sneak out her bedroom window in order to avoid him . he exits first , holding the door for her before waiting until they fall in step together , making their way down the block . "are you ever going to tell me what happened while i was gone ?"

his question follows them into the night and she doesn’t answer immediately. instead, she fishes a cigarette from the crumpled pack in her jacket pocket before slipping it between her lips. the flare of the lighter briefly illuminates her features before darkness swallowed them again. she inhales deeply, letting the smoke settle in her lungs as silence stretches until it becomes its own kind of answer. “ probably, ” the word leaves her in a pale cloud. she considers how easy it would be to give a name — toby evans. rhys was smart enough to connect the rest himself. back then, when rhys was still around, toby had been persistent in the way teenage boys often were. it wasn’t until rhys left that she allowed him closer, the other a convenient distraction to dull the ache. by the time she realized she had mistaken attention for affection, it was already too late. but how was she supposed to explain that some boys had taken more than her innocence ? to exhume those memories for a man she’d barely spoken to in years ? “ not tonight. ” the conversation dies there, or at least, she intends for it to. unfortunately, walking beside him feels entirely too familiar. years have passed, entire versions of themselves have lived and died in that time. yet some treacherous part of her still remembers what it felt like to walk next to him. annoyed by the sentimentality of it, she quickens her pace and fixes her gaze on the dark stretch of road ahead.

there should be nothing different in the way things felt between them now than the last time he was in her bedroom in the dead of night , but there was . unspoken and unacknowledged , but there has been a shift . it might be solely from his view point , much like many of the feelings that swirled in constant battle inside his chest , beating at his heart . the last time he stood here , he watched her curled up atop the covers , draped in his jacket , something he convinced himself didn't mean anything . now , he wonders if he brushed it away too quickly . a traitorous thought that only breeds guilt knowing grace has always been off limits . this thought alone is a needed reminder that is only further solidified as she mentions her father . a warm smile brightens up his features for the first time since she opened up to him about her home life . the weight that has been pressing down on his shoulders lifts slightly at her confirmation . at the sight of her unharmed . " you are ? " asks with a surprised lift in his voice having thought he was intruding on her night where she was only entertaining his barely restrained concerns . " is this your first sleepover or something ? " he jokes , hands fidgeting slightly at his sides .

she nods in answer to reassure him before a soft laugh escapes her, quieter than usual, instinctively mindful of the silence wrapped around them. “ i’ve had sleepovers before, ” she informs him with feigned indignation, smile tugging gently at the corners of her lips. “ most of them involved church girls, and at least three adults making sure nobody had too much fun. ” the fondness in her voice is genuine, faltering slightly as another thought follows. “ and teddy, too, of course.. ” the words trail off almost immediately. something in the room shifts — not dramatically, not enough to name, but enough for her to feel it and make her suddenly very interested in looking elsewhere. so she turns away first, moving toward her bed and settling herself carefully upon the edge. her legs fold beneath the ivory fabric of her nightgown, arms wrapping around a pillow she draws against her chest like a shield. after a moment, she gestures toward the empty space beside her. “ you can sit, you know. ” watching him there, she is struck by an odd sense of familiarity. this isn’t the first time ambers has occupied her room in the dead of night, her mind drifting briefly to waking with his jacket wrapped around her shoulders and finding him sitting beside her — patient, unjudging, present. the realization that he’s become interwoven into so many of her most vulnerable memories makes her chest ache. so naturally, she attempts to outrun it. “ on the bright side, ”  she remarks lightly, tucking her chin against the pillow. “ i don’t think i’ll spend the entire night crying this time. ”

" we'd figure it out. " there isn't a definite future that he could see for them, everything was hazy except for what was an outline of the two of them. what else was needed? it's his own insecurities closing in, thinking that she didn't need anything outside of this. he didn't know what her life was like in the city, what kept her going there. he's not sure he wants to. he likes the idea he has of her that resided in the limits of their hometown. " but why now? " it wasn't a birthday or a holiday but yet she had came. he won't force her to explain herself, he knew that she wasn't his business anymore — even if he wanted to know why she hadn't bothered at all beforehand. " city life isn't all that, huh? " he wouldn't know, the closest thing he'd been to a real city was myrtle fucking beach when he was a child. his mom couldn't afford to ever take them anywhere nice, growing up even going to the town over felt like a new environment to him. he can even remember fragments from when he was a toddler, right when his dad was put away and hallie was still a baby, when his mom had disguised their eviction and temporary stay at a motel as a vacation. lucky them. " it's not the same without you. " it was lonely.

her gaze drops for a moment, settling somewhere on the cracked concrete between them. the certainty of his answer almost makes her smile. “ you always make it sound easier than it was. ” syllables don’t carry any accusation in them, only exhaustion, because survival, for her, has always been arithmetic. rent. bills. groceries. rehab. choices made beneath the relentless pressure of necessity until they stopped feeling like choices at all. when he asks why now, she lets out a slow breath and shifts beside him, leaning against the garage wall rather than standing opposite him. the movement feels less combative, though not necessarily safer. “ i don’t know. i just.. woke up one morning and realized it’d been too long. ” since she’d seen her family, since she’d walked these streets. too long since she’d allowed herself to look backward. his comment about city life draws a laugh from her, quiet and humorless. “ it isn’t. ” her head tilts slightly, “ you wouldn’t like it. ” the understatement is almost absurd since he doesn’t know about the compromises, the performance of it all. that peculiar loneliness of being wanted by strangers and unseen by everyone else. sometimes she thinks the cruelest part isn’t what she does, but knowing that the people who love her most would see her differently if they knew how she earned the money that kept everyone afloat. his last admission settles over them. it’s not the same without you. her apology is leaving her before she can stop it, “ i’m sorry. ” it’s soft, genuine, rare. because despite everything, despite knowing she’d leave again if it meant keeping the people she loved afloat, she hates that he had to carry her absence at all.

everything felt hopeless . neither of them could formulate an answer that could make things right again . that could transport them back to the version of them that only seemed to exist in a fantasy world . one outside of reality where they could pretend everything felt right , where everything was perfect . there was no going back now . regardless of how things play out between them , they would never be the same . for better or for worse . she can only nod along while her mind reels . nothing he says is a solution only recognition of what she's been trying to blindly communicate for weeks . it breaks her heart to know his intentions were never to hurt her , that there has been many internal struggles for him trying to juggle and balance both worlds in order to keep those he loves safe . that whatever consequences lurking in the future weren’t as bad as what he believed would happen if he ever told her the truth . she's never wanted to be a burden on him , even when she was younger and more reckless than now , she's wanted to be a safe space for him . someone he could go to with his problems the same way he has always been there for her . it hurts to know that buried beneath all of that worry for her safety lay distrust . some uncertainty that she could carry the weight of this truth and she couldn't really blame him . it's no secret to anyone who knew anything about her that she's a wild card . an unpredictable force of nature that rarely offered stability , only promising some level of disaster in the near future . completely drained , void of almost all emotion , her arms wrap around herself , backing up another step . " i should go , " says gently . voice worn and tired , her eyes shifting from him to the door and back again . " i don't think we're going to figure anything out tonight and i don't think i can take much more right now . "

i should go. her words are delivered quietly, gently, but they carry that weight of finality, capable of inflicting more damage than anything else she’d said tonight. panic surges through him on instinct as every part of him aches to reach for her, to stop her from walking away so they can somehow salvage the wreckage spread between them. but he doesn’t. because he now understands that he can’t force this to be okay. his hands remain at his sides, fingers flexing once before settling, a restraint that costs him more than any fight ever has. if he lets her walk out, there is no guarantee things will look the same tomorrow. yet if he stops her now, if he reaches for her after everything she’s just told him, he’ll only prove her fears right. the helplessness he feels is almost worse than the guilt. his gaze follows her as she backs away, arms wrapped around herself like she’s holding together pieces neither of them managed to protect. “ delilah.. ” her name leaves him quietly — not a protest, not an argument — merely the truth of a man who doesn’t know what comes next. his jaw tightens, “ i don’t want you to go. ” the admission hangs heavily between them before he exhales and forces himself to continue. “ but i’m not gonna stop you. ” because loving her has to mean more than keeping her close. a weighted silence settles over the room, the music outside muffled beneath the gravity of everything they’ve unearthed. then, after a moment, he takes a small step toward her before stopping himself, careful not to the invade the space she’s asked for. however, there is one instinct he can’t entirely suppress. “ can i at least drive you home ? ” his eyes search hers. “ it’s late, and you’ve been drinking. i just want to know you got home safe. ” and maybe that’s all he can offer her right now, just the same thing he’s been trying to give her since they were kids — a way home.

he let the smile hold a beat longer than necessary, unbothered by the deflection the way only a man with nothing to prove could be — and instead of pulling it back, he just tilted his head toward the seat across from him, easy, unhurried, like the invitation had already been accepted and she just hadn't caught up yet. "humor me," there was no urgency in it. just a man who'd been patient for two hours and had every intention of staying that way, which was somehow worse than if he'd pushed. "besides, you said it yourself, you've got unlimited access," he agreed, glancing toward the pot, then back to her. "so it won't cost you anything."

for a moment, she just stares at him, equal parts amused and dubious. men usually wanted something from her ; they were just rarely patient enough to spend two hours nursing diner coffee before asking for it. with a sigh, she finally slides into the booth, though not all the way. her body remains angled toward the aisle. “ if this ends with you trying to recruit me into a pyramid scheme, ” she points a finger at him, “ i’m walking. ” the joke lands easily enough but as her gaze drifts past him, the humor begins to curdle. one man by the door, another near the windows — not customers nor staff. the unease arrives immediately, instinctively. her posture stiffens as she looks back at him. “ okay.. ” she says slowly, the levity evaporating. “ you’ve got my attention. what’s the catch ? ”

dallas felt the smile before she could stop it, the kind that pulled at the corner of her mouth whether she wanted it to or not. that better be water. she looked down at the cup, then back up at him, unhurried. "it's not." she took a sip just to make the point, watching him over the rim. the warmth in her cheeks had settled into something steadier now. he was still looking at her the way she wasn't sure she knew what to do with yet. "and i haven't been giving them hell," she added, tipping her cup slightly in a small concession. "i've just — stopped asking permission." her eyes cut sideways, easy, like the distinction was obvious. "there's a difference."

her answering look tells him exactly what’s coming and he watches her take the sip anyway, the deliberate provocation earning a low laugh from somewhere deep in his chest. “ your daddy know about that ? ” the disappointment is feigned. mostly. his gaze lingers a beat too long before he drags it away, shaking his head. then she mentions permission, which lands differently. he recognizes the distinction between rebellion and adulthood immediately. had done the same years ago when he left town to chase a dream bigger than common sense, stopped waiting for anyone’s blessing. “ yeah, ” he nods once, “ there is. ” he settles back against the wall, arms crossing loosely over his chest as the party recedes into background noise. she’s always been pretty ; now, her confidence is almost more dangerous than her beauty. he finds himself wondering who she’d become while he was busy becoming someone else. a corner of his mouth lifts, “ so what’ve you been doing with all that freedom ? ”

" and that's what i like about you. " compliment rolls off his tongue with ease, a satisfied hum falling into the air as she circles around to the passenger side. he hasn't been able to keep his eyes away from her all night, captivated by her presence from the moment he stepped foot into this complicated mess they call a town. she's confident, knows exactly how to command the track, and somehow manages to stir something inside of him that even the adrenaline rush of pushing an engine to its limit can't replicate. flips the ignition on, tattooed digits drumming against the steering wheel before he gives the accelerator a sharp tap. pulls onto the road, city lights shrinking in the rear view mirror as he gradually increases his speed. " how am i doing so far, princess? " gaze drifts away from asphalt for a fleeting second to gauge her reaction — twisting through the familiar hills in long, sweeping curves.

a scoff escapes her the second the pet name leaves his mouth. “ careful, ” she drawls, settling deeper into her seat. “ call me that again and i’m going to start thinking you’ve got a death wish. ” but the threat lacks any real venom, more teasing than anything else. which is irritating because she’s actually enjoying herself. the city lights dissolve behind them in a blur of gold and neon, swallowed by darkness as the vehicle devours asphalt beneath its tires. she hates that she’s impressed. she’d expected recklessness and bravado, another guy trying to compensate for something with horsepower and bad decisions. instead, he’s smooth, deliberate, the kind of driver who understands that speed is only half the equation. her gaze drifts toward him, studying the sharp lines of his profile, the ease in his posture, the infuriating confidence. “ not terrible, ” she concedes begrudgingly. the road opens up ahead, winding toward the mountains. “ but if you’re trying to impress me, you’re gonna have to do better than this. ” a slow grin tugs at her mouth as she lifts a hand and points, “ take the next turn. ” a riskier route, where every blind corner is a test and steep descents separate the genuinely skilled from the merely reckless.