The bathroom door hadn't even fully closed behind Jessica before Aiden felt it—that chill, that presence.
Connie leaned against the hallway wall, one boot pressed casually behind her, arms folded, that familiar wild smirk already on her lips.
"So…" she purred. "How'd the talk with 'Miss Forks Spirit Award' go?"
Aiden's expression darkened. "How long were you standing there?"
She tilted her head. "Long enough to hear the part where you broke her little heart. You're getting colder, Shade. I like it."
"Don't call me that," he said, stepping past her. Toward the kitchen.
She smiled. "You always trusted me, didn't you?"
She moved with him, matching his pace down the hall. Her voice was velvet and smoke. "Can't help it. You'll always be Shade to me. The way you looked in there? All fire and ice. Made me nostalgic."
He shot her a sideways glance, jaw clenched. "What do you want, Connie?"
Connie sidestepped in front of him, walking backward now, her gaze never leaving his. "Maybe I just wanted to see if the fire's still in you."
Aiden stopped. "This isn't the time. Or the place."
The metallic taste hit his tongue, a bit sweeter than usual. He frowned.
"You keep pushing people away," she murmured. "Jessica. Rosalie. Me." Her fingers ghosted over his chest—not touching, but hovering like a dare. "But you're still bleeding. I can feel it. And I know what you really need."
His voice was gravel. "You don't know anything about what I need."
"Oh, I know exactly what you need," she whispered, her breath brushing his neck.
Aiden stepped back—just enough. "You need to back off."
Her smile faltered—but only for a heartbeat. Then it came back sharp and amused. "You always were the stubborn one."
"You ever think," she said, voice low, hypnotic, "that maybe you were wrong to leave me behind? That maybe... I could've saved you from all this pretending?"
He blinked once. The room swam—just a little. The light seemed to flicker, like a bulb on its last breath.
His body felt heavy.
"What... Did you do?"
Her eyes didn't flinch. "Just something to help you sleep. You've been... tense lately."
He tried to move, but the can slipped from his fingers and clattered to the floor.
Connie caught him before he hit the ground, her arms sliding around him like silk and steel.
"Shh," she whispered, guiding him to the floor like it was a slow dance. "I told you, Shade... I'm not done with you."
His vision blurred, her face the last thing he saw. Twisted in devotion. In madness.
"I missed you," she breathed against his temple. "And I'm going to fix us."