It snapped me back, hard. 15.24 cm—or 6 inches for the American crowd—dragging me through time like a skipping stone. But this time? I wasn't being dragged along. No, I was riding it. That fucking kidney stone of a pebble, bouncing through time, didn't control me anymore—I was steering the glitch, and it was mine. The Camaro wasn't even here yet, and I was already miles ahead of where he thought he had me.
Lower Wacker stretched out dark and empty, not even a hint of that rumbling engine yet. But I knew it was coming, that smug bastard driving in like he owned the place. And he'd think he was still in control, but I wasn't playing catch-up. Hell no, I was already past him—like ketchup never even belonged on a Chicago dog. I was ahead, rewinding and fast-forwarding like it was my game now, because it was.
The 15.24 cm gap? It didn't mock me anymore. I was beyond it. The glitch wasn't trapping me—it was a tool. I could feel it, own it, pulsing under my skin like gasoline running through an engine. And I wasn't just holding it back; I was twisting it, controlling it. The bitch in heat inside me wasn't just some rabid animal foaming at the mouth anymore—no, she was calm, calculating, waiting to be let off the leash.
I could hear her voice now, snarling from deep inside me, but it wasn't the wild madness from before. No, this was different. The bitch was fueled by something new. Power. His power. The glitch had merged with me, just as I'd stolen that premium V8 juice from his cocky ass the moment he thought he had control.
"You feel that?" the demon purred, her voice low and dangerous, dripping with power as it echoed in my head. She wasn't just some wild beast. No, she was sleek, calculated chaos, fueled by the gasoline of that stolen power. "That's the good stuff, sweetheart. That's what control feels like. You're not here to fix shit—you're here to own it."
"Stop it," the angel cut in, her voice tight, but soft, trying to keep control. "You don't need to be like her. You can control this without giving in. You still have a choice."
"Control?" The demon laughed, her voice sharp and filled with venom. "Oh, please. You think we're still playing the good girl here? Look at what you've got under the hood now. You're running on premium. That power you stole? It's yours, baby. And it's time to let that bitch rip through everything."
I could feel the two of them battling for dominance in my head—both female, both twisted reflections of me. The tension knotted in my stomach, a physical manifestation of the chaos swirling inside. To remind me of the control I once thought I had, the demon. She was reveling in it, basking in the petrol that powered her, in the way the glitch hummed through our veins like a roaring engine. She was sleek and deadly, her voice like the smooth purr of an engine about to break the sound barrier.
Two sides of the same coin, both twisted reflections of me.
The angel, soft and gentle, was trying to tether me to the ground, reminding me of a control I thought I had once mastered. But every time she spoke, her words felt fragile, like glass threatening to shatter under the weight of the chaos swirling inside me.
And I was torn between them.
"Shut up!" I snapped, my voice a sharp crack in the tense silence. It ricocheted off the concrete walls of the garage, echoing back like a taunt—a bitter reminder of my inner turmoil. Each bounce of sound was a reminder of my struggle, magnifying the chaos within as I fought against the voices that threatened to consume me."Just shut the fuck up!"
For a moment, they both went silent, but the glitch? It pulsed under my skin, reminding me that I wasn't just holding it back anymore. I was the one bending time, shaping it, owning it. I wasn't afraid of losing control. I was afraid of what I'd do when I finally let go.
"You don't have to let her win," the angel whispered, her voice barely cutting through the chaos. "You can control this. You can steer the power without burning everything down."
"Fuck that!" the demon hissed, her voice revving up, louder than before. "Control? Control is a fucking joke. You're not here to hold the leash. You're here to let that bitch loose! Tear through the timeline, shred it like paper. Feel the chaos. Embrace it.. You've got the V8 in your veins now, baby—let it that Bloody Mary fly! He doesn't know what's coming."
I could feel the tension snapping inside me, like a wire pulled too tight. The glitch was humming louder now, vibrating through me like the growl of an engine revving up, ready to explode. And I wanted it. I wanted to let it go, to unleash everything, to feel that gasoline-fueled power rip through the timeline and burn it to the ground.
"Fuck!" I screamed, my fists clenched so tight my knuckles turned white, the baseball in my hand like a weapon I wanted to throw straight through the glitch. "You think I'm losing it? I'm not losing shit. I am the control!"
And then I let her loose. The demon. The bitch in heat. The sleek, gasoline-fueled monster inside me that had been waiting, just waiting, for the right moment. The glitch didn't just pulse under my skin—it exploded, ripping through time like a tidal wave, and I was riding it, steering it, commanding it.
The Camaro's growl finally rolled into the garage, but it didn't matter. I'd already won this game. I could feel his power fueling me, merging with the glitch, giving me more control than I'd ever had before. He thought he was still the player, but I was the one pulling the strings.
"What timeline do you think you're on?" I called out, my voice sharp, slicing through the air like a blade as he stepped out of the car. "This took me centuries, asshole. You think you've got me cornered? You're just fucking roadkill."
For the first time, I saw it. That flicker of doubt in his eyes. He didn't know how far ahead I was. How deep I'd gone into the glitch. How I'd stolen his power and made it mine.
"Catch-up's not your thing, huh?" I sneered, stepping closer, feeling the gasoline burning in my veins, the demon laughing in my head, fueling the fire. "But we both know Chicago dogs don't need it anyway."
And the 15.24 cm that used to hold me back? It was nothing now. I wasn't playing catch-up. I was fucking driving the glitch, steering the timeline wherever I wanted, and the bitch in heat was running wild.
The raccoon with rabies? She was tearing through time. The sleek, gasoline-fueled demon? She was reveling in it. And I wasn't just surviving anymore.
I was tearing through reality, and no one could stop me.
The rewind snapped me back again—15.24 cm or 6 inches—whatever the fuck you want to call it, but something was wrong. Different. Like I'd hit a hidden glitch in the game. Time kept bouncing, like I'd skipped into some broken level of Mario, back in that Minus World where you're stuck, drowning over and over again. No way out, no matter how many times you hit reset.
I wasn't stuck like I'd been before, but everything around me started to feel off. Like the glitch wasn't just twisting time anymore—it was twisting reality itself. Lower Wacker wasn't just a garage. It was warping, bending, like the shadows were eating the space alive. And him? He didn't look the same. His edges were blurring, like I'd burned through too many timelines and now he was starting to glitch, too.
But it didn't matter. I wasn't losing control. I was burning through it.
That cocky grin of his flickered, like he was caught in a stutter, but I could still feel the Camaro vibrating under my skin, the purr of that manual transmission digging into me, making my knees weak, like the damn thing was turning my pelvic bones to mush. Fuck, it was worse than that. Every rev of that engine felt like a vibrator set to the highest setting, pressing right against me, and I had no fucking pants left for that. Not after what I'd been through. And that Root Beer I chugged earlier? Not helping. My bladder was screaming for a break, but the tension in me was louder.
My body felt like it was on fire, caught in this place between power and something that made my skin crawl. That demon's voice, still dripping with gasoline, was feeding off it. I could hear her laugh as I burned through one timeline after another, faster and faster, like the Minus World was swallowing us both whole. Every step, every rewind, it was like the garage flickered again, like it couldn't decide which version of reality it wanted to stick to.
"You feel that, babe?" the demon whispered, her voice coiling through me like smoke. "That's the glitch, tearing him apart. And you? You're ripping through him. You're not stuck—he is."
"Yeah?" I muttered, my legs barely holding me up as the rumble from the Camaro buzzed deeper. "Well, he's about to learn I'm not some damn Playboy he can keep in his bathroom for an easy ooze."
The angel's voice tried to cut through the noise, but she was fading, too. "Don't let it consume you. You know that's not what you are. You're not stuck like him. You're in control. You can fix this—"
"Shut the fuck up!" I snapped out loud, my voice echoing off the walls, sharp and raw. My body was burning, my mind spinning, but that laugh—the demon's laugh—it fed off it. She was relishing in this chaos, in the way I was crumbling and standing taller all at once.
"You're not a fantasy, babe," she purred again, louder now, fueled by the V8 juice roaring through my veins. The sweet saltiness of bitter tomatoes. "You're reality. He's stuck in this glitch, drowning in it, and you're walking through it like a goddamn queen. Rip him apart. You've already won. Make sure he knows it."
I stepped closer to him, watching the glitch ripple across his body, his form shifting, like his smug grin couldn't keep up with the different versions of himself. Each time I burned through a timeline, he changed—his stance, his clothes, even his face. Like I was breaking him down, forcing him into every possible iteration of what he could be. And fuck, he looked weaker each time.
"You think I'm still stuck here?" I sneered, rolling the baseball between my fingers, feeling the weight of the glitch shifting everything around me. "I've already run through this. You're stuck. Drowning. And I'm still here, tearing through your bullshit."
The Camaro growled again, that deep rumble vibrating up through the ground, rattling my bones, and fuck—it was making me lose my grip. My knees felt weak, and every inch of my body screamed to lean into that vibration, to let the power of that manual transmission grind into me harder. I clenched my thighs together, but it didn't help. The damn car wasn't just a car anymore. It was a weapon—one he didn't even know he was using against me.
"Fucking Root Beer," I muttered, squirming against the burn in my bladder. "I didn't sign up for this shit."
I was teetering on the edge, trying to keep my head in the game, trying not to let that deep growl from the Camaro tear me apart in all the wrong ways. But fuck, it was getting harder to think. My breath came in short gasps, and I could feel the glitch rewinding me again, pulling me deeper, burning through timelines like I was spinning through the Minus World, stuck in a loop, breaking every piece of reality along the way.
"You know you want it," the demon's voice slithered through me, sharp and hot. "You want to tear him apart. You want to let that power burn through you. He's nothing. Just roadkill in the glitch. You've already ripped him to shreds—now finish it."
I felt the glitch tugging at me once more, a relentless pull that made the timeline shift beneath my feet, like quicksand threatening to swallow me whole. The world around me flickered as if it were a film reel caught in a stutter, and the garage transformed again. It darkened, shadows creeping along the walls like fingers reaching out to ensnare me, stretching and elongating, distorting reality until I could hardly recognize the space I once knew. Each change sent a shiver down my spine, amplifying the unease bubbling within me.
Like I was seeing a hundred versions of this place, all smashed together, unable to settle on one. And him? He looked… tired. Worn. Like he'd been running this race for lifetimes and was finally realizing he wasn't going to win.
"You're weak," I spat, feeling the power surge up through me, the gasoline-fed roar of control taking over. "You don't even know what's happening, do you? You thought you had me. But I'm the one driving now."
The baseball in my hand felt heavier. The glitch felt like it was in me, coursing through my veins, making my fingers tingle with every timeline I ripped through. And I could feel him slipping—slipping further behind as I burned through each reality like it was paper catching fire.
The Minus World had him stuck. Just like that old Mario game. He was glitching out, sinking deeper, drowning in it. But me? I was the one rewriting the code.
"You think I'm stuck in this glitch with you?" I laughed, stepping even closer, my voice dripping with venom. "I'm the one tearing it apart. I'm burning through you, burning through everything. And there's no way out for you."
The Camaro purred again, and I could feel it deep in my core, making my knees wobble, my mind scream for some kind of release. I wasn't just rewinding through the glitch anymore—I was feeling it. Every vibration, every rumble, it was eating into me, clawing at me, making me want more.
"You're done," I whispered, my breath catching as I stepped even closer to him. "You're nothing but a glitch. Roadkill. And I'm the one running over you, again and again."
The glitch pulsed under my skin, alive, burning, and I let it fuel me as the world flickered again. This was my timeline now. And I was in control.
The Camaro tore into the garage, screeching like it was on the verge of tearing reality apart. The engine's deep roar vibrated through the concrete, through me, and everything in me screamed to move—dodge, jump, do something—but I didn't. I couldn't. I was locked in place, watching that monstrous machine skid right toward me.
Then, it hit me like a shockwave. The world froze—I froze it. It was like slamming the brakes on reality itself. Time screeched to a halt, the universe doing donuts around my pulsing, frantic mind. I wasn't the terrified wreck anymore; no, this time, I had it right. The glitch wasn't pushing me around—it was mine to control, and I could feel it humming in my veins, giving me the kind of power that made the ground beneath my feet quake.
The Camaro's growl still vibrated, trapped in the moment I'd frozen, its engine purring right in front of me, ready to flatten me into a smear of roadkill. But instead of panic, all I felt was that heat, that intense glow radiating from my skin, rippling with power. My mind spun, like I was burning through every version of this moment, but instead of getting lost in it, I was steering it.
The bitch inside me was awake. Not the rabid, uncontrollable beast from before—this was something more insidious. Something deeper, darker, and more powerful. She wasn't growling to tear shit apart—she was hungry. She wanted to feel the power, the chaos, and every inch of me was trembling with it. The Camaro's deep, growling purr buzzed through my core, reverberating like thunder in a storm, making my knees wobble with its raw power. Fuck,yes. Each vibration was a jolt, like an electric shock shooting through my body, striking my pelvis and stirring up something dark and primal. It ignited a wildfire of desire, an insatiable hunger that made me yearn to feel even more of it.
I pressed my thighs together, trying to ignore the way the manual transmission's deep rev dug into my core like a fucking vibrator cranked to the highest setting. God, I wanted to rip it apart or ride the power for all it was worth. And with the Root Beer from earlier bubbling in my gut, my bladder screamed, but the deeper throb in my groin made me want to tear through something else entirely.
Time was frozen, but I wasn't. I was vibrating with too much. The tears were already blurring my vision, but I wasn't crying from fear anymore—it was something worse. Desperation. I was done with this. Done chasing, done burning through timelines, done trying to figure out why the hell I was stuck in this endless loop.
I looked at him. He wasn't stuck like everything else. He stepped out of the Camaro like a shadow peeling itself free from the void. Everything around him shifted, glitching, as if he was breaking apart and pulling himself back together with every step. And for the first time, I really saw him.
He was tall, lean but not scrawny, the kind of figure that moved with a casual grace, like he had all the time in the world. His hair was tousled, jet black, but it shifted with the glitch—sometimes longer, sometimes slicked back, like he couldn't settle on what version of himself fit the moment. His eyes, though—those stayed the same. Piercing, a deep blue that glowed faintly in the dim light of the garage. His face was sharp, all angles, but there was a softness there, a flicker of something that almost made me forget how he could tear me apart if he wanted.
He wore a leather jacket, black, scuffed at the shoulders, with a zip-up hoodie underneath, and despite the chaos of timelines shifting around him, he seemed… calm. His jeans hung low on his hips, worn, like he'd been through hell, and his boots—black and cracked at the soles—thudded softly as he closed the gap between us.
It wasn't just his looks, though. It was the way he moved—like he owned the space, like nothing in the world could touch him. He was the center of gravity here, and the air around him buzzed with the kind of energy that made my pulse quicken and my groin throb with something wicked.
The 15.24 cm of space between us shrunk with every step he took. My breath hitched, and that fucking bitch inside me wanted him closer, wanted to feel him close the distance, to make me feel that vibrating power between us. The throb in my core was unbearable, my groin practically burning with the need for release, for something, anything, to snap me out of this loop of wanting and waiting.
But then I saw it—the tear in reality. His edges flickered, blurred, like he was glitching right in front of me. Every version of him I'd seen, every smug grin, every cocky laugh—it all crumbled as he stepped closer, more vulnerable than I'd ever imagined.
And then the tears hit. My chest clenched, everything inside me spiraling as I felt the weight of all those timelines pressing down on me.
"What the fuck am I doing this for?!" I shouted, my voice cracked and raw, the tears streaming down my face. "Why am I burning through all these fucking timelines? Who are you?! And what the hell is this fucking note for?!"
I could barely breathe, my mind spinning so fast I thought I'd collapse right there. The tears were hot, burning against my cheeks as they fell, mixing with the heat of my frustration. I wanted to scream, to rip through the glitch and tear him apart until I got some kind of answer.
Then, as if the universe heard my breakdown, time un-froze with a snap. The Camaro screeched to a halt, its engine cutting off, the silence almost deafening. He was standing in front of me now, the 15.24 cm gap finally gone, and for the first time, he didn't look like the arrogant prick I'd been chasing.
He looked real.
"I'm the one who called out to you," he said, his voice deep, steady, like it could steady the chaos spinning inside me. "The one connected to the A.E.R.Z. program."
His voice was calm, but his eyes… there was something in them. Something that cut through all the bullshit, all the timelines I'd burned through, and hit me straight in the gut.
"You're not here to just tear things apart," he said, stepping closer, his eyes locked on mine. "You're here because you're ready. Ready to change what the future holds. Ready to face it, not run from it."
I stared at him, my mind spinning, my legs trembling with the weight of everything crashing down on me. I could still feel the Camaro's vibrations humming through my body, making me weak, but his voice—his voice was cutting through the noise.
"I can't keep doing this," I whispered, my voice breaking as the tears kept falling. "I can't keep jumping back and forth. It's tearing me apart. Why am I doing this? Why can't I just fast-forward to the end? Why do I have to live through all this?"
He reached out, brushing his hand against mine, and the warmth of his touch sent a shock through me, grounding me in a way I hadn't felt in ages.
"Because you're not supposed to fast-forward through everything," he said quietly, his voice soft but firm. "You have to live through the hard parts. You have to face them. You can't skip the important moments, no matter how much they hurt."
I stared at him, my heart pounding a frantic rhythm against my ribs, thoughts spiraling like leaves caught in a gust of wind. Yet, beneath the chaos, something in his voice resonated—a clarity that pierced through the fog of my confusion. For the first time, it felt like I could see the threads connecting us, weaving a pattern that made this madness finally begin to make sense.
For the first time, it all made sense. I wasn't here to find an escape. I was here to face the chaos head-on.
"And what about the note?" I asked, pulling the crumpled paper from my pocket, my voice barely a whisper. "What's the bullshit of this?"
He took the note from me, unfolding it carefully, his eyes softening as he looked at it.
"It's a reminder," he said, holding it between us. "That you're not alone… at least not anymore."
I stared at the note, the weight of his words crumpled in, and for the first time, I felt the chaos around me start to settle. The glitch didn't feel like it was tearing me apart anymore. It felt like I was finally in control.
"You've got the power," he said, stepping back, the Camaro rumbling softly behind him. "Now it's time to decide what you're going to do with it."
And in that moment, I knew. I wasn't running anymore. I wasn't tearing through timelines to escape.
I was ready to face what was coming.
I stared at him, my heart pounding from all the chaos—the Camaro skidding, time freezing, the glitch wrapping around us like we were caught in some twisted web. His words still echoed in my head, but they weren't sitting right. I wasn't alone? I was supposed to face all this? Not run like a fucking mess through timelines, trying to piece everything together like a broken puzzle? It was too much to swallow, and honestly, it felt like I was losing grip on whatever "control" I thought I had.
And then something hit me—a question that had been gnawing at my mind through every rewind, every skipped beat.
"What's your name?" I asked, voice shaking but sharp enough to cut through the tension. "You've been in every damn timeline. I've seen you, chased you, fought you—but I don't even know who the fuck you are."
He didn't answer right away, just stared at me with those flickering eyes, like he'd been waiting for me to ask. That faint smirk tugged at his lips—half amused, half something else—but under it, there was something heavier, more real.
"You don't know my name?" he said, his voice carrying a hint of that playful arrogance, like it was supposed to be obvious. Like I should've just known by now.
"No, I don't," I snapped, frustration bubbling up to the surface. My chest tightened, my fingers twitching as the tears still clung to my skin, drying into itchy streaks. "I don't know a fucking thing about you."
Just as the weight of the moment started to pull me under, my ADHD brain decided to hit a switch I didn't even know existed. The Camaro, vibrating with energy that seemed to match the glitch, crackled to life. Out of nowhere, the car radio spat static, and then—because life's a cruel joke—the song just had to start playing.
"Oh Mickey, you're so fine, you're so fine, you blow my mind…"
I froze, my mouth hanging open in sheer disbelief. His low laugh—soft, almost under his breath—cut through the ridiculousness, and my head spun. The absurd melody bounced off the concrete walls, weaving itself into the glitch like it belonged there.
"Hey, Mickey?" I said, half-laughing, half-gritting my teeth, the tension twisting into something absurdly amusing. "You're so fine, you blow my mind… What the fuck, man?"
He raised an eyebrow, that smirk widening just a little more, like the universe had played right into his hands. "Mickey, huh?" His voice shifted, and there was a flicker in his tone—like he had more cards up his sleeve than he let on.
"Is that your name?" I scoffed, my laugh coming out jagged, raw. "Seriously? Mickey?"
He chuckled, and the weight in his gaze softened, like I'd uncovered a piece of him he hadn't shown before. "People call me Mickey sometimes, yeah," he said, his voice low and smooth, but there was a slight pause before he added, "But most just call me Mero."
Mero. The way he said it carried more than just a casual nickname. Like it held weight. Like there was something hidden beneath the surface, something tied to the car and more than just that stupid song. I felt it in his tone, like a thread of darkness wrapped around that name, something deeper, something I hadn't scratched at yet. Mickey was a joke; Mero was the real deal.
"Mero?" I repeated, tasting the word, trying to make sense of it. "Like your car?"
"Yeah," he said, his smirk fading into something darker, almost regretful. "But there's more to it than that."
His eyes flickered, and for a split second, something else crept through his carefully held composure—a flash of something buried deep. I couldn't pinpoint it, but it felt like watching an old arcade game flicker off after years of running, like it was waiting to be forgotten in the corner of some dusty room. Mero wasn't just some guy playing this glitchy game with me. He was something heavier, something broken and waiting to plug back into the chaos. And he wasn't just playing the game—he was waiting to take over.
But why? What the hell was his connection to all this? The A.E.R.Z. program, the endless timelines, the glitch that wouldn't stop chewing through everything—what did it all mean?
I blinked, feeling the glitch finally loosen its grip on me, like I was being spat out of that twisted Minus World and landing on solid ground for the first time in what felt like forever. The endless loop of timelines, the rewinds, the broken reality—I'd been stuck, trapped in a place that didn't belong. But now? Now I was back on track.
I wasn't sure where exactly, but it felt right. Like I'd been dropped into World 2-3 or World 5-2, some impossible level buried deep in the game's code. Levels that no one ever saw because they weren't meant to be seen. Hidden behind walls of code, inaccessible to anyone but those who knew how to glitch through the game itself. There could've been a World 19-6 or even a World 20-5 waiting somewhere in the next bend of this journey, but at least I wasn't stuck in the Minus World anymore.
I could feel it—reality stitching itself back together, patching the holes I'd torn through.
And maybe, just maybe, I'd land in World 99-1 next, a place so deep into the game that even the glitch didn't know what to do with it.
But for now? For now, I was back in the right timeline. Back on the track that mattered.
"Well, Mero," I said, shaking my head, trying to ground myself as the song kept playing like some twisted joke. "Hey Mickey, you're so fine… Is this your way of fucking with me? Because I'm seriously just trying to figure out why the hell I'm jumping back and forth, and here you are, acting like you've got all the goddamn answers."
He tilted his head, that calm smile pulling at his lips again, but there was something quieter, something softer in his eyes. "Maybe you already have the answers, Ignis," he said slowly. "Maybe you're just not looking in the right places yet."
I clenched my fists, feeling the glitch buzz under my skin, the hum pulsing like a live wire. My body burned with that primal need, but now it was mixed with frustration, with confusion. The Camaro's deep rumble still vibrated through my core, but my mind was racing ahead, trying to pull the pieces together.
"And what the fuck is this note for?" I finally spat out, my voice trembling as I pulled the crumpled paper from my pocket. "I've been carrying this damn thing for who knows how long. You know what it is, don't you?"
Mero—Mickey—reached out, brushing his hand lightly against mine as he took the note from me. His touch sent a jolt through me, but it wasn't just the glitch—it was something more. Something real. It made the tension crackle and hum between us.
He unfolded the note, scanning the worn words, and then looked back at me with those sharp, electric eyes. "It's a reminder," he said quietly, his voice steady but carrying a weight that almost made my chest ache. "That you're not alone."
I swallowed hard, my throat tightening, my pulse racing as his words hit me like a punch in the gut. My mind was still spinning in a thousand different directions, but his voice pulled me back, kept me grounded, like a tether holding me from falling into the glitch again.
"And who the hell are you?" I whispered, my voice barely hanging on. "Why am I doing all of this for you?"
He smiled, but this time it wasn't some smug, cocky grin. It was real. Heavy with meaning, like he knew something I didn't.
"You'll find out," he said, stepping back, his fingers brushing mine one last time before letting the note fall back into my hand. "When you're ready."
The Camaro purred behind him, its engine vibrating through the still air, but I wasn't trapped anymore. The glitch wasn't pulling me under. For the first time, I realized I had escaped that dark, looping hell of the Minus World, and I was exactly where I needed to be.
"You've got the power now," he said, his voice calm, but there was something in it, something deeper. "And the next move? That's up to you."
I stood there, the glitch still buzzing in my veins, the song still playing in the background, and I knew one thing for sure:
I wasn't chasing him anymore.
We were in this together now—the glitch still buzzing in my veins, an electric current of possibility. I felt the weight of the moment settle around us.
This was the beginning of something dangerous, something wild.