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Ironic, that I have that thought right as the lift doors slide shut and I run from Snow.
That was too intense. Something has shifted between us, and even though I refused to let him touch me – sort of – there’s…feelings other than hate there. No one has ever taken bullets for me before. And the way he knew exactly what I needed after my panic at the pool.
I don’t forgive him for drowning me, or the other thing, but I understand that he had no choice. He’s as much a victim of Seytan’s sadism as I am.
As I stab the button to close the doors, planning to take the lift down to the ground floor, I pause. The mechanical click of the button seems to resonate in the heavy silence that surrounds me. My body tenses, and I can feel the weight of everything that’s happened crashing down on me. It’s as if a leaden blanket has been draped over my shoulders, threatening to suffocate me. I’ve been running for so long, always trying to stay one step ahead of everyone. My demons, the law, Seytan. But now, with these psychos by my side, I no longer have to be alone in this fight. The burden of isolation slowly starts to lift, replaced by a glimmer of hope.
I promised the people in charge that I could unite us, turn us into a family of killers. But I didn’t promise it for them. I promised it for myself. To belong. So that I could finally stop running. The elevator’s dim lighting casts eerie shadows on my face, highlighting the uncertainty in my eyes and the determination in my clenched jaw.
Just as I’m lost in my thoughts, the voice of Honey cuts through the silence, jolting me out of my reverie. His deep, gravelly tone carries a hint of concern, making me jump with a start. My heart leaps into my throat, and I struggle to regain composure.
“You okay there, darlin’?” he asks, his voice a soothing contrast to the adrenaline coursing through my veins.
I have to swallow my heart back down to be able to reply to him, my chest still heaving from the fright. “Fuck. You scared me. Don’t do that!” I snap, my words laced with irritation, and I reach out, slapping playfully at his chest.
Honey responds with a smirk, his lips curving upward, revealing those goddamn dimples that always seem to disarm me. In an instant, my anger melts away, and a soft smile tugs at the corners of my lips. His tone is teasing as he counters, “Don’t what? Be in a lift at the same time as you?”
I roll my eyes, but my voice softens. “Don’t skulk in corners.”
“Skulk?” Honey raises an eyebrow, feigning innocence.
“Yes,” I retort, my tone firm, but my eyes betray a hint of playfulness.
“In corners?” he continues, a mischievous glint in his eyes.
“It’s what I said,” I reply with a hint of exasperation.
“In a lift,” he adds, clearly enjoying the banter.
I huff in frustration. “I didn’t see you.”
“In this massive lift?” Honey’s voice drips with amusement.
“Shut up,” I mutter, a small smile playing on my lips.
Honey leans against the elevator wall, his eyes never leaving mine. “Where you running off to in such a hurry? Or who are you running from, should I say?”
“Snow was on the roof,” I admit, my voice laden with the weight of my recent encounter.
“Oh dear. Did you leave him alive?” Honey’s concern is genuine despite his teasing tone.
“Just about,” I reply with a wry smile, appreciating his understanding.
“And now you’re going to the art room?” he inquires.
“Yeah,” I nod, the thought of the art room offering a small comfort.
“For some therapy?” Honey’s voice holds a touch of sympathy.
“Something like that,” I confess, my vulnerability showing through.
Honey’s expression softens, and he takes a step closer.
“What’s with the twenty questions?” I ask, frustrated as I meet his gaze.
“Just trying to get to know you better, darlin’, that’s all. Feels like a hot minute since we spent any time together, is all.”
I blush, even though I don’t think he meant it in a sexual way. But it has been too long.
