Chapter 7: Running Into the Truth
I decided to go for a run, hoping the physical exertion would help clear my head after Ozaire's apology earlier.
The cold wasn't bothering me as much as the memory of what Ozaire almost said on the balcony.
"You were just so—"
So what? What was he going to say? Was he about to insult me? Or...
I shook my head. Don't even go there, Ophira. I pushed myself to keep running, focusing on the rhythm of my feet hitting the pavement.
Then, in the distance, something familiar caught my eye, and I slowed down.
"Bailey?... With Beck?" I muttered under my breath, squinting to see better.
What I saw made me halt in my tracks. I quickly crouched behind a bush, heart thudding louder than my footsteps had.
Beck gently retreated from kissing Bailey's forehead, his hand cupping her cheek. "You're such a crybaby," he said with a soft chuckle, brushing away her tears.
She playfully pushed him and wiped her face using the hem of his shirt—the one she was now wearing.
"Anyway, happy anniversary, shorty," he whispered, before leaning in to kiss her on the lips. She looked surprised for a second… but kissed him back.
In the distance, I saw Paicey came in running also.
They were so wrapped up in each other, they didn't even notice Paicey was going their way and saw them.
Our younger sister stood frozen, a shocked expression on her face. Bailey gasped when she finally noticed her.
Before she could react, another figure ran up from the same direction Paicey had come from.
"Wait, Paicey, it's not what it looks li—" Percy tried to explain, but his words faltered as he realized… Paicey had stopped running.
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Here's a revised version of your scene with smoother flow, emotional tension, and character dynamics intact:
I watched the four of them walk back inside the house. A few minutes passed before I finally emerged from where I'd been hiding. The cold was creeping into my bones—this snowy mountain was no joke.
I dusted off my leggings and took a deep breath.
I had to act normal. As if I hadn't just witnessed something that wasn't meant for my eyes.
Strolling in with as much nonchalance as I could muster, I pushed the door open and announced, "Ohhh, what a nice run I had!"
My voice was bright, cheerful. Almost convincing.
"Oh hey, guys!" I added casually as I stepped into the living room.
But no one greeted me back.
The atmosphere was… off. Heavy. Like everyone had been holding their breath and forgot how to let it go.
Something happened. Here, in the house.
I scanned their faces. Every expression was a clue.
Reese was staring at Bailey, her eyes unreadable.
Raiden sat beside her, shifting his gaze between Reese and the coffee table like he couldn't decide where to look.
Beck—when did he even get there?—was beside Raiden, tense.
Percy was looking at Paicey, sorrow softening his usual sharpness.
Bailey and Paicey, on the other hand, avoided everyone's eyes—including each other's.
"Did I… come in at the wrong time?" I asked slowly, my voice quieter now. I looked at them all, examining their expressions like a puzzle I hadn't been given the pieces to.
And yet somehow, I already knew the picture wasn't pretty.
I wanted to ask. I wanted to know what the hell was going on.
But then his voice echoed in my head—
Aren't you being a little nosy?
Ozaire's words, cold and sharp, still lingered like frostbite.
So I swallowed the questions bubbling in my throat.
Fine.
Whatever mess this is... let them fix it themselves.
I'll just stand here, pretend I don't see the cracks in this room, and deal with my own problem.
Like the way my heart clenches every time I think of him—and how my feelings were never returned.
Unrequited love hurts in silence.
And I've gotten good at being silent.
As I stepped into the hallway, I saw him—
Ozaire.
We both froze, eyes locking for a moment too long.
There was something in his gaze. Something unreadable.
He took a small step forward, but I turned away, retreating into my room before he could say a word.
Click.
The door shut behind me, and I leaned against it, heart drumming against my ribs.
I closed my eyes, listening.
Footsteps.
Soft. Hesitant.
He was there—on the other side. I could feel it.
For a moment, I thought he'd knock.
But he didn't.
Instead, the steps faded.
Back to his room.
Back to the silence.
I opened the door just slightly, peering down the hall. His door closed with a soft thud. My chest tightened.
I sighed, closed my door again, and let the quiet swallow me whole.
"I told myself I was fine. But even lies echoed too loudly in a room this silent."