The cold autumn air wrapped around us as we walked down the dimly lit street, our steps muffled against the damp pavement slick from a recent drizzle. The distant wail of sirens still echoed faintly in my mind, even though the streets around us were quiet now. Streetlamps flickered intermittently, casting long, wavering shadows that danced across old brick walls and cracked sidewalks.
The faint scent of rain-soaked leaves and distant street food wafted through the air, mixing with the subtle earthy aroma of fallen autumn foliage. A chilly breeze swept past, tugging at Xier's long coat, making her hair shimmer like liquid gold under the faint glow of the streetlights.
We walked in tense silence, our fingers still loosely entwined, though neither of us acknowledged it. I wasn't sure if I was holding on to her for comfort… or if she was holding on to me.
---
We finally found a small, inconspicuous diner tucked into a quiet corner of an old street. The warm amber glow from the windows spilled onto the sidewalk, contrasting sharply with the cool, dark night outside. It looked… safe.
I pushed open the creaky wooden door, triggering the soft chime of a hanging bell. The interior was cozy but worn—faded red booths, aged wooden tables, and walls adorned with old photos and signs. It smelled of freshly brewed coffee, grilled sandwiches, and something sweet, like cinnamon pancakes.
A tired-looking waitress greeted us with a nod before disappearing back into the kitchen. The diner was nearly empty, save for a lone elderly man reading a newspaper in the corner. Perfect.
We slid into a corner booth farthest from the entrance, shrouded in dim light. I exhaled slowly, feeling a momentary sense of relief as I let my tense shoulders relax against the worn leather seat.
Xier sat across from me, her amber eyes still shimmering faintly under the diner's soft lights. Her expression was unreadable—calm, but distant, as if weighing something far heavier than what she let on.
The waitress returned, placing two steaming mugs of coffee on the table without asking. I wrapped my hands around the warm ceramic, grateful for its soothing heat against my cold fingers.
For a while, neither of us spoke. The quiet hum of the diner's old ceiling fan filled the heavy silence between us.
Finally, I broke the stillness.
"…What really happened back there?" My voice was low but firm, tinged with lingering tension.
Xier's gaze lifted slowly, locking onto mine. There was something guarded—carefully constructed—about her expression, but she didn't look away.
"He… attacked me," she whispered, her voice softer now, almost vulnerable. "I… didn't have a choice."
I clenched my jaw, remembering the scene in the restroom—the blood, the wrongness of it all. "But how… how did you—?"
Her fingers lightly traced the rim of her coffee cup, her gaze dropping momentarily. "I just… fought back. Harder than he expected."
Harder than anyone could've expected.
I struggled with the conflicting emotions surging within me—fear, confusion… trust. As much as my gut screamed that something was off, there was another, deeper part of me that wanted to believe her.
"He shouldn't have been there," I muttered, more to myself. "Why the hell was he in the women's restroom?"
Her eyes flashed briefly, an almost predatory gleam that vanished as quickly as it appeared.
"I don't know," she said softly. "But… he won't bother us again."
Her voice was steady, certain.
Too certain.
The words hung in the air like an unspoken promise or a warning.
---
I stared hard at Xier across the dimly lit table, my fingers tightening around the warm coffee cup. The steady hum of the diner's old ceiling fan droned on, blending with the faint clatter of dishes in the back. For a moment, the cozy atmosphere almost made everything feel normal, but it wasn't. Nothing about tonight was normal.
Her expression remained calm, perfectly composed, but there was something off, something carefully constructed, like she was playing a role she'd rehearsed a thousand times.
I couldn't hold it in anymore. The questions burned at the edges of my mind, refusing to be ignored.
"How… did you do that?" I asked, my voice low but sharp, cutting through the thick silence between us.
Her gaze lifted slowly, locking onto mine. There was no surprise, no confusion—just a quiet, measured intensity that made my breath hitch.
"Do what?" she asked softly, tilting her head just slightly, as if genuinely curious.
My fists clenched. "You… fought him off. Mr. Geller."
Her expression didn't change, but something flickered behind her eyes—something dangerously close to amusement.
"He attacked me," she said simply, her voice steady but quiet, like she was explaining something obvious. "I defended myself."
"That's not what I'm talking about," I hissed, leaning forward. "He's twice your size! There's no way… no normal way… you could've fought him off like that."
The words hung heavily between us, daring her to answer.
For the first time, she lowered her gaze—not in guilt, but in thought. Her fingers lightly traced the edge of her coffee cup, slow and deliberate, as though weighing her next move.
"You think… I'm lying?" she asked, her voice soft, almost… hurt.
I clenched my jaw. "I think you're hiding something."
Her eyes lifted again, gleaming faintly under the warm diner lights. She leaned forward just enough that I could feel the warmth of her presence, her voice dropping to a low, intimate murmur.
"What do you think I am?" she asked, almost teasing—but there was weight to her words, something deeper, darker, like a secret begging to be discovered.
My pulse quickened. I opened my mouth but found nothing—no answer, no accusation, only a storm of doubt and uncertainty raging in my mind.
Her lips curled into the faintest, most knowing smile, and just like that, the intensity in her gaze softened, shifting back to that familiar warmth—the same warmth that always left me disarmed.
"I fought back… because I had to," she whispered. "Is that so hard to believe?"
The worst part was… I didn't know anymore.
---
Before I could say anything else, Xier's expression softened, her sharp, calculated gaze melting into something… disarmingly tender. Her amber eyes shimmered faintly under the dim diner lights, warm and inviting, drawing me in like a helpless moth to a flame.
She tilted her head ever so slightly, her long hair cascading over one shoulder in perfect, careless elegance. "You're so serious," she whispered, her voice dipped in something far softer, almost playful.
I blinked, caught completely off guard by the sudden shift. "I… I just—"
Before I could finish, she reached across the table, her fingers brushing lightly over mine. Her touch was soft, delicate, leaving a lingering warmth that sent a shiver up my spine.
"Kevin…" she whispered, drawing out my name in that same velvet-soft tone. "You don't need to be so tense. I'm right here."
Her fingers gently entwined with mine, holding me in place—not forcefully, but with an irresistible pull I couldn't seem to fight. My breath hitched as she leaned in just enough that I could feel the warmth radiating from her skin, her eyes locking onto mine with dangerous intensity.
The air between us seemed to thrum with tension, so thick it was almost suffocating—but I couldn't bring myself to move away. My heart pounded furiously in my chest, drowning out all coherent thought.
"Stop thinking so much," she murmured, her voice dropping into something more intimate, more daring. "Just… feel."
Before I could even process what was happening, she leaned in slowly, her eyes half-lidded, her breath grazing my skin like the softest whisper.
And then… her lips brushed against mine.
Warm. Soft. Unreal.
The kiss was brief—too brief—but it burned like fire, leaving my mind spinning and my pulse racing. By the time I registered what had happened, she was already pulling back, her gaze still locked onto mine, her lips curling into the faintest, most satisfied smile.
I opened my mouth to say something, anything, but no words came out—just a quiet exhale of breath I hadn't realized I'd been holding.
She sat back, calm and composed, as if nothing out of the ordinary had just happened.
"Your food's getting cold," she said sweetly, her tone light and innocent—too innocent.
I nodded dumbly, still stunned, my fingers tingling from her lingering touch, my lips still burning from the kiss. I picked up my fork mechanically, feeling like I'd been swept into a current far beyond my control.
Across the table, Xier calmly sipped her coffee, looking perfectly at ease, as though she hadn't just rewritten reality with a single kiss.
And so… we ate in silence.
---
The sound of silverware gently clinking against plates filled the quiet diner as we ate in silence. The cozy warmth of the room seemed to dull the edge of reality for a brief moment—but the tension between us still lingered, thick and heavy like an invisible fog.
I kept stealing glances at Xier, still trying to piece together what exactly had happened tonight. She looked… perfectly composed, her long lashes casting soft shadows over her cheeks as she delicately cut into her food. It was almost too perfect, like she was performing an elegant routine only she understood.
Then… her hand trembled.
I frowned, noticing how she suddenly paused, her fork clattering softly onto her plate. Her shoulders tensed for a fraction of a second before she abruptly buried her face in her hands.
"Hey… what's wrong?" I asked, instantly on edge, my earlier suspicions temporarily eclipsed by concern.
A muffled sob escaped her lips, fragile and heartbreaking. When she slowly lifted her head, her amber eyes shimmered with tears barely held back, their brilliance amplified by the soft glow of the diner's dim lights.
"I… I can't believe… you don't trust me," she whispered, her voice trembling with raw emotion—or something eerily close to it.
I froze. "What…? I—"
"You think I'm hiding something, don't you?" she continued, her voice cracking just enough to twist the knife deeper. "I… felt it when you questioned me… like you were looking at me like I'm… some kind of monster."
Her shoulders trembled as if barely holding herself together. The sight hit me hard, knocking down the walls of doubt I'd so desperately tried to build.
"That's not… I didn't mean—"
"Do you really think I could… hurt someone like that?" Her tear-streaked gaze locked onto mine, trembling with vulnerable intensity. "I thought… you'd understand…"
Her voice shattered into a whispered sob, her delicate hands trembling in her lap. The air between us shifted—the weight of her pain crashing down on me with overwhelming force.
"I… I'm sorry," I choked out, guilt tightening like a vice around my chest. "I didn't… I wasn't thinking straight."
Why was I apologizing? Why did her tears hurt so much?
Before I could make sense of my emotions, she slowly reached out, her fingers grazing the back of my hand ever so gently.
"I was so scared…" she whispered brokenly. "I thought you'd leave me."
Her trembling touch anchored me, drowning out the storm of doubt and reason still raging in my mind. Nothing else mattered in that moment—only her pain, her warmth, her pleading, tear-filled gaze.
"I'm here," I whispered hoarsely, wrapping my hand around hers. "I'm not… going anywhere."
Her lips trembled into a small, almost relieved smile as she wiped her tears away with delicate fingers. The moment should've felt reassuring—but instead, I felt like I'd just lost something important.