Solenne’s hands trembled as she clutched the wrinkled poem—her poem—lost and found beneath her locker’s battered door. Her blue-gray eyes, wide and glossy, kept darting to the swirling lines of desperate longing, as if she could smudge the guilt off each word just by staring hard enough. Her dark hair, scraped back into a messy knot, had loosened by now, curling wild around her face. When the door slammed behind her, she barely flinched. She only needed to see his silhouette to know it was Varik.

He looked like sleep deprivation in a human body: pale, the stubble on his jaw darkening his haunted face, neon stains pooling beneath cheekbones already too sharp. His flannel shirt was wrinkled, one button misfastened, hands shoved deep in his pockets, jaw tense as he tried to swallow back all his need and panic. When he spoke, his voice was raw. “You think I don’t see it? You’re everywhere and nowhere. And you won’t just let us… be.”

Solenne felt old anger coil inside her chest, thick and poisonous. She glared at him, breath shallow, eyes brimming with hurt. “You want honesty now? After what you did?” Her voice wavered, then found steel. “I know about the job. I know you sabotaged me. How could you?”

He stumbled a step closer, fists clenched, desperation leaking through the cracks. “I was scared you’d leave. I thought if you stayed—”

She cut him off, her voice cracking. “So you ruined everything for what? So I could be trapped here, loving you because I had no choice?” Her cheeks flushed, pulse hammering, the urge to scream or sob battling for control. “You killed us, Varik.”

He looked as if she’d slapped him, the flicker of regret almost beautiful across his dark eyes. “I never wanted to hurt you. I just—” He trailed off, at a loss, every muscle in his body warring between reaching for her and turning away.

Her shoulders sagged. The poem slipped from her hands, drifting to the dirty floor as her voice went hollow. “You already did.” She shoved past him, her hand trembling against the wall for balance, and disappeared into the midnight maze of the depot.

At the far corner of the rooftop, the city’s buzz below, Jyndra waited. She leaned against the rusted guardrail, the streetlights painting gold into her close-cropped blonde hair, her jacket thrown over the edge of her shoulders in a careless, studied sort of way. Her eyes, sharp as knives, softened as Solenne approached—spine rigid, fists jammed into the pockets of her too-short skirt.

“Rough night?” Jyndra’s smirk was soft around the edges, voice lower, nearly kind. She reached out, gentle, and brushed a stray tear from Solenne’s cheek. The contact startled both of them; Solenne’s lips parted, unsteady, and she sucked in a breath that tasted like rain and smoke.

Something in Jyndra’s face cracked—just for a moment. She tucked a strand of hair behind Solenne’s ear, her hand lingering, expression oddly vulnerable. “You don’t have to pretend with me. Not tonight.” Her thumb traced over Solenne’s cheekbone, slow and deliberate, eyes searching, unreadable.

Solenne blinked, and for a wild second, the ache in her chest spun into something else—something dangerous, electric. Her lips trembled, and she let herself lean in, just a fraction, feeling Jyndra’s breath ghost over her face. Their gazes locked, confusion and heat tangling between them, a silent dare neither could voice.

Jyndra’s laughter, usually sharp and mocking, came out fragile and uncertain. “Are you going to kiss me, or just keep looking at me like that?”

Solenne hesitated, pulse thundering, the possibility snapping in the air. She shook her head, a watery laugh slipping out. “I don’t even know what I want anymore.”

A beat, heavy and charged—then Jyndra’s hand slipped away, but the warmth of her touch lingered, neither of them sure what to do next, the rooftop suddenly too small to hold them.

Below, the depot’s doors banged open—Breslan’s voice echoed up, furious, shattering the fragile spell. “Someone’s been spreading stories. Get down here—now. It’s an emergency.”

Solenne and Jyndra stared at each other, and in the hush before the chaos, a secret passed silently between them—something broken, maybe mending, maybe not.

To be continued...