NOVA POV
"Why can’t I face you when we fuck? Why can’t I touch you?"
My question was t with the loudest silence I’ve ever experienced and trust , I’ve lived through enough heavy silences to be an unofficial connoisseur.
This is the kind of silence that makes the hair at the back of your neck prickle like you’ve walked into a cetery at midnight
I wasn’t even sure if he was breathing anymore. I slowly turned, inch by inch, bracing myself like I might catch him mid–heart attack.
His face was pale, blank, almost corpse-like — as if he’d just seen a ghost tap-dancing in the corner. Which was weird, considering the only haunting happening here was and my damn mouth.
His hands shook uncontrollably, but the rest of him was rigid, frozen in place like a carved marble. Like if he moved even a fraction, the whole fragile illusion of control would shatter.
Was it my question? Was I not supposed to ask? Did I break so unspoken Grant Calloway law?
"What did I do wrong?"
Still nothing. Not a grunt, not a twitch of those firm lips. Maybe he didn’t hear . Maybe I whispered it in my head and didn’t realize.
"Um—hello?"
I cleared my throat before saying loudly. That got a reaction, but barely. A twitch, a flinch so subtle you’d miss it if you weren’t looking straight at him.
Then, like he rembered who the hell he was supposed to be, he shoved his trembling hands into his pockets. A spark of color returned to his face, and in the next blink, he was back but not as Grant, the man who makes my insides twist. But Mr. Calloway, certified Asshole.
He didn’t answer . He just turned and walked out.
And since then, I sat here, cuffed, in silence for minutes, maybe even hours; it all bled together. My wrists ached where the tal of the handcuff bit into the skin of my sore wrists, because Mr. Asshole didn’t bother uncuffing before he went all ghost-mode.
I won’t be letting him co near with handcuffs in the near future. I’m certain.
The air conditioning roared, freezing from the inside out. My skin prickled with goosebumps, my ass still sticky with his cum, drying uncomfortably where I couldn’t clean it.
The shredded lace of my lingerie lay in ruins across the floor, mocking , while all I had left on was a damn garter belt.
The neglect stung worse than the cuffs. The cold seeped deeper than the AC as it clawed at a mory I’d buried so far down I thought I’d killed it. Turns out I just pressed pause.
SEVENTEEN YEARS AGO.
The apartnt slled like heaven, fried stew bubbling away in the pot, spiced the way I loved it. My feet slapped against the cracked tiles as I twirled around the room, blowing pink bubbles into Mum’s curls and Dad’s beard. They laughed, eyes soft and shining like I was the only star in their sky.
Dad strumd the old guitar, humming our song. He always rewrote the nas in songs, made them mine because I’m his special princess, he would say. His voice rumbled low, playful.
"Nova, you are the river, through my stone..."
I chid in, proud of myself for rembering the words.
"The echo that makes whole, a gentle fire in my bones..."
Then Mum joined in, dramatic as ever. She belted the last line with the flair of a diva who deserved a standing ovation.
"I find forever wherever you arrrre—"
I collapsed into Dad’s lap, giggling while he blew raspberries into my stomach. My world was whole. My chest felt like it might burst from too much love.
Then the door crashed off its hinges.
In one second, laughter beca silence.
n poured in — giants with masks and weapons my little brain couldn’t comprehend. Dad shoved behind him. Mum scread.
My hands shook so badly I clamped them over my mouth to hold my scream in, nails digging into my lips and cheeks.
Dad fell first. Mum followed. The crash of furniture, the slam of boots, the sll of smoke and fire as the kitchen went up — everything hit at once.
I peed myself. I was too small to care about sha. And while my favorite food burned, while our house caught fire, while n tore apart everything we owned—
All I wanted was for Dad to get up, dust off, strum his guitar, and start the song again.
But he didn’t.
The house went down in flas. A neighbor dragged out through smoke that clawed my lungs raw. My parents disappeared into the back of an ambulance.
Then Auntie ca. She cried until her face was streaked, her mascara bleeding black rivers. She grabbed , shook , asked questions I didn’t have answers for. My body shook, but no words ca out.
She gave up, lit a cigarette with trembling hands. The smoke curled into my face as snowflakes landed in my hair. My thin singlet clung to my skin, soaked. I shivered, not sure if it was from the cold, or the smoke, or the absence of Dad’s hug.
I was shivering now too. Not snow this ti, but AC. Not Auntie shaking , but—
I blinked hard. Ivin. Ivin?
His hands were on my shoulders, his face thunderous.
"What the fuck, Nova?"
Apparently, I’d been sitting in the sa frozen position long enough to scare him, even if I didn’t know when he got into the room. My body trembled, stiff, heavy and refusing to move.
He cursed, unlocked the cuffs and ripped the cuffs from my wrists, and wrapped in the heavy duvet. "You’re freezing."
I tried to say I was fine. That he didn’t need to bother. That I wasn’t so fragile doll.
But my throat closed. My voice stayed gone.
So I let him cover . I let him lift . I let him carry like I weighed nothing at all.
And for once, I didn’t fight it.
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