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He knows it too.

His jaw tightens.

“I didn't mean⁠—”

“No, of course not. Nobody ever means it.”

“What?”

“Nothing.”

I start down the stairs.

“Belinda.”

He follows.

“Go home, Damian.”

“No.”

I stop halfway down. Slowly, I turn.

“What did you say?”

“I said no. I’m not leaving until you talk to me!”

Something hot erupts inside me. Red-gold sparks crackle across my fingertips. Damian's eyes drop to them. His entire expression changes.

Wonder.

Recognition.

Something else I don't understand.

“Sweet—”

“No.”

I point at him.

“You told me yesterday you had nothing to offer me.”

His face tightens.

“I was wrong.”

“Well, that's convenient.”

“Belinda—”

“You said you couldn't promise me anything. Remember?”

“I remember every fucking word. I was wrong, Belinda. Just listen to me⁠—”

“No, I am done listening to everyone tell me what is good for me and what I should and should not do.”

“Belinda—”