I sit on the edge of my bed, the weight of the evening pressing down on my shoulders like a hand I can't shake off. My fingers twist into the sheets—knotting the fabric, nails digging deep into the silk. The cool fabric does nothing to ease the heat crawling up the back of my neck.
What the hell am I doing?
The question loops through my mind, endless and suffocating.
At the dinner table. I touched him again. My hand reached for his face before my mind could catch up—before I could remind myself to stop. My body is moving on its own these days, acting without permission, without reason, without the cold calculation I've always relied on to keep the world at arm's length.
Sum's voice echoes in my skull, unwanted and relentless.
Ellis... are you in love?
I shake my head—a sharp, violent motion, like I'm trying to dislodge something stuck in my throat.
Damn you, Sum. Your useless voice. Your useless questions.
Love? Me?
