The silence after the cafeteria fight was louder than any scream Sophie had ever heard. Windmere High moved like it was holding its breath, waiting for the next explosion. Marcus had been suspended again—this time indefinitely—and whispers claimed he might not be allowed back at all. Sophie felt those whispers dig into her skin every time she walked the halls, the laughter sharper, the stares heavier. She tried to disappear, but she couldn't. Not when her notebook, though returned, had been read aloud for everyone to hear. Her words, her heart, her fire—laid bare.
She burned with humiliation and fear, but underneath it all was something stronger. Rage. Rage at Ethan for tearing her open, rage at Marcus for losing control, rage at herself for not being strong enough to stop any of it. She wrote feverishly in the nights that followed, her pen carving out pain across the pages. Words of fire and chains, of boys who burned and girls who refused to let go. Her notebook was no longer just hers; it was her only weapon, her way to stay sane when the world wanted to crush her.
But Marcus's absence grew heavier with each day. She waited by her window every night, watching storms roll across the horizon, listening for the knock that never came. Each hour without him felt like an eternity. And when she closed her eyes, she saw him being dragged away, his eyes locked on hers, fury and fear tangled together. She couldn't stop replaying it, couldn't silence the way his gaze had begged her not to abandon him, even as the world tore him down.
It was a week before she saw him again. He appeared at the warehouse, shadowed and broken, his hoodie stained, his face bruised. Sophie had gone there desperate, notebook clutched in her hands, hoping the walls that had once held their secrets might give her some piece of him. When the door creaked open and Marcus slipped inside, her breath caught.
He looked worse than before. His eyes were hollow, his knuckles raw, his shoulders heavy as if carrying the entire weight of his life. But when he saw her, something shifted. His lips parted, his jaw tightened, and for the first time in days, fire sparked in his eyes. "You shouldn't be here," he said, his voice low, rough, like smoke tearing through his throat.
"Neither should you," she whispered back.
They stared at each other across the empty room, the silence trembling between them. Sophie moved first. She dropped her bag, crossed the floor, and pressed her hands to his chest. His heart hammered under her touch, too fast, too wild. "You can't keep doing this," she whispered. "You can't keep letting him win."
Marcus laughed bitterly, the sound cracking. "You think I care about Ethan? I don't. I care about you. And he's using me to destroy you."
"Then stop letting him," Sophie snapped, her voice breaking. Tears burned her eyes, but she refused to look away. "Stop giving him what he wants. Stop tearing yourself apart because you think that's the only way to fight."
He grabbed her wrists suddenly, his grip hard but trembling. "You don't get it, Sophie. This is all I know. Fighting, bleeding, breaking—it's all I've ever had. And now you. And he knows that. He'll never stop coming for you, because he knows you're the only thing keeping me from drowning."
Her heart cracked. She lifted her hands, wrapping them around his neck, forcing him to meet her gaze. "Then drown with me. If that's what it takes. But don't you dare leave me alone in this."
For a moment, his face crumpled, the mask shattering. His forehead dropped to hers, his breath ragged. "You're going to ruin me," he whispered.
"Then let me," she whispered back.
And he kissed her—hard, desperate, like he was trying to breathe through her. Sophie clung to him, her tears mixing with rain as thunder rumbled outside. For that moment, nothing else mattered. Not Ethan, not the whispers, not the fire consuming them both. Just the boy who burned and the girl who refused to let go.
But reality was cruel. When they pulled apart, Marcus's eyes were darker than ever. "He won't stop," he muttered. "And the next time, I don't know if I can hold back."
"Then I'll hold you," Sophie said. Her voice was trembling but steady. "As long as it takes."
The storm outside crashed against the roof, lightning splitting the sky. Sophie sat with him until dawn, their hands entwined, their silence heavier than words. She knew the fire was only growing, knew the war between Marcus and Ethan was far from over. And she knew she was caught in the middle, chains pulling tighter around her every day.
But she also knew one thing with terrifying clarity: she wasn't going to let go. Not now. Not ever. Even if it destroyed her.
When the first rays of light broke through the cracks of the warehouse roof, Marcus lifted his head, his eyes bloodshot but fierce. "Promise me something," he said.
Sophie blinked. "What?"
"Promise me you'll survive me. Even if I don't."
Her throat ached. She shook her head, gripping his hand tighter. "No. I won't make that promise."
He frowned. "Why?"
"Because I don't want to survive you," she whispered. "I want to live with you. Even if it means burning."
The silence stretched, thick and suffocating. Then Marcus leaned down, kissed her hand, and closed his eyes. "Then we burn."
And Sophie knew, as the morning light spilled across them, that they had crossed a line they could never come back from. The fire was no longer something they feared. It was something they had chosen.