She tried not to look at him.
But that had never worked before.
He stood across the room, talking casually, like nothing had ever happened between them. Like the late nights, the stolen moments, the way he used to look at her… meant nothing.
But it did.
It still did.
And the moment his eyes met hers, everything came rushing back.
“You’re avoiding me,” he said later, appearing beside her without warning.
“I’m trying to,” she replied, her voice calm… but her heart wasn’t.
He smiled slightly. “You were never good at that.”
She turned to face him fully now, lifting her chin. “And you were always too confident.”
“Only when it comes to you.”
That silence again.
Heavy. Dangerous.
He stepped closer, slowly, like he didn’t want to scare her away. But she didn’t move. She couldn’t.
“Tell me you don’t feel it,” he whispered.
She swallowed, her breath uneven. “I shouldn’t.”
“That’s not what I asked.”
Her eyes dropped for a second—to his lips, to the way he stood so close, to the familiar pull she hated… and wanted at the same time.
“It’s not just one thing,” she admitted softly. “It’s everything.”
His expression changed, softer now, but deeper.
“Everything?” he asked.
She nodded faintly. “The way you look at me… the way you say my name… the way you make me forget myself.”
He moved even closer, his voice barely a whisper. “Then stop fighting it.”
Her heart raced as she looked up at him again.
“I can’t,” she said.
And maybe that was the truth she had been running from all along.
Because it wasn’t just a moment.
It wasn’t just a feeling.
She was addicted…
To every part of him.