ARIA

The stone beneath me was slick with rain, though the storm had passed hours ago. My fingers trembled as I tightened the wrap around my forearm, the gash still oozing faintly through the cloth. I didn’t ask for help. I didn’t need him.

Alec was pacing, again.

Boots scraping against shattered tile. Breath uneven. Magic humming faintly at his fingertips like it always did when he was trying not to explode.

“Stop pacing,” I snapped.

He didn’t.

“I said stop.”

“Then stop pretending you’re fine,” he snapped back. “You’re not. You’re bleeding. You nearly got yourself killed—again. And you won’t let me help you, so what, I’m just supposed to stand here and watch you fall apart?”

I shot to my feet, swaying slightly. “I didn’t ask you to watch anything.”

“You never ask for anything,” he growled. “You just keep shoving people away like you’re the only one who’s allowed to care what happens to you.”

“Because I don’t want you to care!” I shouted.

And then—it broke.

Something in his face cracked open. The rage, the sarcasm, the infuriating arrogance—it all dropped away like shattered armor. What was underneath was worse.

“Too late,” he said, voice low. “I already do.”

I stared at him. “Don’t.”

“Don’t what?” He stepped closer. Rain-soaked hair falling into his eyes, fists clenched at his sides. “Don’t say it? Don’t feel it? Because I’ve been trying, Aria—gods, I’ve been trying not to—but every time you look at me like I’m something you scraped off your boot, I want to scream.”

“Then scream,” I said coldly. “But don’t stand there and act like this is my fault.”

“You think I planned this?” His voice cracked, magic sparking along his fingertips. “You think I wanted to fall for the girl who can’t look me in the eye without a blade in her hand? The one who flinches every time I take a step too close?”

I flinched now.

He noticed.

The magic died in his hands. His eyes burned with something brighter than fire. “I would never hurt you.”

“You already are,” I hissed.

Silence. The worst kind.

He looked at me like I’d just carved the words into his chest.

Then he laughed. Bitter. Ragged. “Right. Because caring about you, wanting you to live, makes me the villain.”

“You don’t know me.”

“I know enough,” he said. “I know how you hide your fear with anger. I know how your voice shakes right before you lie. I know that you wake up every night trying not to scream.”

“Say it again,” I said, voice barely more than a whisper. “Say it again, and I’ll burn you where you stand.”

He didn’t flinch.

“I love you.”

Magic flared through me—uncontrolled, wild, hers. The Hollow Twin stirred, furious and gleeful all at once.

I threw my arm out instinctively, and wind ripped through the crumbling tower wall, slamming into him like a gale. He hit the ground hard, groaning—but still alive.

Still breathing.

Still looking at me like I was something worth breaking for.

“Idiot,” I whispered, tears stinging behind my eyes. “You’re such a godsdamned idiot.”

He laughed, even from the floor.

“I know,” he said. “But I’m your idiot.”

I turned away before he could see the crack in my mask.

This didn’t mean anything. It couldn’t.