Page 81 of Shattered Obsession

“You’re impossible.”

“And you’re tiny.”

“I’m not tiny,” I argue, swatting at him with the dish towel.

“You fit under my chin when we hug. That’s tiny.”

I point the spatula at him. “That is a measurement error.”

He steals a kiss mid-sentence.

Dirty. Sneaky. Effective.

Xander steals a bite from my plate, and in playful annoyance, I swat at his hand with the spatula, though secretly, I relish this simple, playful moment. However, beneath the surface of this domestic bliss lies a nagging whisper curling in my stomach, a reminder that tranquility like this is often fleeting.

Happiness can be fragile, and the shadows that stalked me don’t just vanish forever.

-Xander-

Her laughter echoes off the cabinets, and I swear it’s the prettiest sound in the world. She smacks my hand away from her plate, narrowing her eyes like a feral kitten with a spatula for a weapon.

“Do not steal from me, heathen.”

I arch a brow. “Heathen? Harsh.”

“Get your own.”

“I did,” I say, leaning against the counter. “Yours tastes better.”

She stops, spatula halfway in the air. “You haven’t tasted mine.”

I grin. “Oh, I’ve tasted you.”

Her cheeks bloom with heat, and she tries—tries—to hide the smile.

God, I’d kill for that smile.

-Thalia-

Heat flares across my skin—not from embarrassment, but from awareness. Every time Xander looks at me like that, like I’m something breathtaking, I forget how to be made of anything solid.

He leans close, whispering, “Your blush is my new favorite color.”

“Stop,” I whisper.

“Make me.”

His breath ghosts my lips, and the air becomes something thick. His hand finds the small of my back, guiding me just a fraction closer, enough for my heartbeat to ricochet in my ears.

“What are we doing?” I breathe.

“Whatever you want.”

The words unravel me as he moves back to casually lean against the counter.

I sip my coffee, watching him with his arms folded, observantly regarding me as though I’m the center of his universe. Perhaps, to him, I am.

I want to hold on to this calm, to believe it will endure. Yet, deep within, I know better. The storm is still out there, lurking on the horizon, waiting for the perfect moment to descend.