Christopher's POV
The storm didn't let up. Sheets of rain hammered the windshield, wipers working overtime but still losing to the downpour. I kept one hand tight on the wheel, the other curled protectively around Fel where she leaned against me. Her breaths were soft, steady—she'd fallen asleep, exhaustion knocking her out the second we pulled away from Alex's flat.
For the first time in hours, she looked peaceful. Fragile, but safe.
I kept glancing at her, the way her damp hair clung to her face, lips parted just slightly, lashes trembling in restless dreams. My chest tightened. She had no idea what almost happened. And the thought alone made my grip on the steering wheel turn white-knuckled.
When we finally reached her dorm, she was still out cold. Not even the thunder shook her awake.
I slipped out of the car and rounded to her side. Carefully—like she was made of glass—I lifted her into my arms. Her head lolled against my shoulder, her hand instinctively clutching my shirt like she knew I was there.
The hallway light flickered when I reached her door, and just as I adjusted her in my arms, the door creaked open.
Penelope. Her eyes went wide, darting from me, soaked to the bone, to Felicity—barefoot, wrapped in my jacket, fast asleep in my arms.
"Christopher Blake, what on earth—"
"Not now, Penny," I cut her off, stepping past her before she could unleash the interrogation I knew was bubbling. I carried Felicity straight to her bed, tucking her beneath the covers like she was something precious. She didn't stir, didn't even open her eyes. Just sighed, curling deeper into the blanket.
Only then did I face Penelope. She was standing by the door, arms crossed, eyebrows sharp enough to cut glass.
"Well?" she demanded. "What happened? Why is she—"
"Alex," I said flatly. My jaw clenched. "That bastard tried to put his hands on her. If I hadn't gotten there…" My throat tightened. "I don't even want to imagine."
Penelope's face drained of color. "He didn't—"
"No." I cut her off again. "Because I stopped it. I'll always stop it."
For a moment, the storm outside seemed quieter than the storm in the room. Penelope pressed her lips together, her eyes flicking toward Felicity. She softened.
"You love her."
It wasn't a question. I didn't answer. Didn't need to.
Finally, I pulled the door open, ready to leave. My voice was low, heavy with promise. "Take care of her, Penny. I'll deal with Alex."
And before she could reply, I walked out into the storm.
>>>>>
Felicity's POV.
Morning sunlight stabbed through the blinds, sharp and merciless. My head ached, my throat was dry, and my body felt heavy—like I'd been run over by the storm itself.
I blinked, disoriented. My dorm ceiling. My blanket. My room. How…?
"Finally awake?"
I shot upright. Penelope sat at my desk, hair in a messy bun, sipping coffee like she'd been waiting all night for this moment.
"What—how—what happened?" I stammered.
"Oh, I don't know." She raised a brow. "Maybe Christopher stormed into Alex's place like a madman, carried you out in his arms, drove you through a thunderstorm, and tucked you into bed like some prince from a Netflix rom-com. Ring any bells?"
Heat flamed across my face. "He what?"
"Mm-hmm." She sipped again. "And by the way, you drooled on his jacket. Very flattering."
"Penelope!" I groaned, burying my face in my pillow.
But her tone shifted, sharp again. "Felicity. He told me what Alex tried."
The memory hit me like a punch. Alex's hand gripping my arm. His lips brushing my neck. The wild look in his eyes when Chris burst through the door. My stomach twisted.
"I—I don't know what to say."
"Say you're done with Alex," she snapped. "Say you're not giving him another chance to manipulate you."
"I promised him two weeks," I whispered.
"Two weeks?" Penelope slammed her mug down. "Felicity, are you insane? That boy nearly—"
"I know what he nearly did!" My voice cracked, tears stinging my eyes. "But if I break my word, what does that make me? And what if…what if I'm just confused? Chris is so protective it's overwhelming, and Alex—he—"
"Stop." Penelope's tone softened, but her eyes didn't. "Don't let Alex turn this into some twisted competition. I thought he was the one, and I was rooting for him—but not anymore. You know what your heart wants, even if you're too scared to admit it."
I hugged my knees, trembling. Because deep down, I knew. Every time Chris's arms wrapped around me, every time his voice dropped soft just for me, every time he looked at me like I was his whole damn universe…I knew.
But then—A knock rattled the door.
Penelope froze. "Please tell me that's not—"
It was.
"Felicity," Alex's voice came muffled through the door. "We need to talk. Please. Just hear me out."
My blood ran cold. Penelope shot me a look that could kill. "Over my dead body."
But my heart? My traitorous heart thundered. Because part of me wanted to hear him. Wanted to know what he'd say.
I swallowed hard, staring at the door, the storm inside me louder than the one that had raged last night.