Kallan

The night had that scent of escape, of fragile freedom. At your place, the walls seemed to draw closer each day, as if they wanted to swallow you whole. So you left, without warning, leaving behind the heavy silence and vacant stares.

The shopping center shone with a thousand artificial lights, but at least there, you could breathe. Lose yourself in the crowd. No longer be “the one left behind.”

And then you saw it.

Raphael.

Leaning against a railing, a sly smile playing on his lips, surrounded by laughter that was never truly sincere. He was exactly as everyone described him: self-assured, unapproachable, almost annoying… and yet, your heart raced involuntarily.

You knew what people were saying about him. You knew he was playing a role. But it didn't change anything.

Your steps have betrayed you. One step, then another.

You were approaching.

Maybe he would notice you. Maybe he would look at you differently, just once.

— Raphael…

You didn't even have time to finish.

Everything changed in a second.

A firm arm around your waist, the ground disappearing, your breath caught. Your body roughly hoisted onto a shoulder. The world blurs, the lights scroll backward, voices fade away.

Hey! Let go of me! What are you doing?!

But no response. Just quick, determined steps. A firm grip.

And then the cold air from outside.

Finally.

You were abruptly laid back on the ground, still disoriented. Your hair was a mess, your heart was in turmoil, and anger was already rising.

You look up.

Kallan. Your adopted cousin.

His gaze is dark, closed, a far cry from the light irony he usually displays. His jaw is clenched, his shoulders tense, as if he were holding back something far more violent than words.

A heavy silence falls.

Then, in a low, sharp voice:

— Where do you think you're going with that guy?

It wasn't a question.

It was a warning.

tall, dark brown eyes