continued from here for @almostbetter !
frankie feels him before she processes it — the shift, the step, the way the space disappears like it never existed at all. their breath stutters the second his hand finds their hip, like their body recognizes him faster than their mind ever could. it makes something twist deep in her stomach, sharp and humiliating. they hate it. she hates how immediate it is, how instinctive; hates that after everything, after all the clarity she just fought to claw her way into, her body still leans into him like it remembers belonging there. for a second (just a second) they let it happen, and that's the part they hate most. his thumb moves, and her fingers twitch at her sides, like they don't know whether to push him away or grab onto him. their chest rises too fast; their pulse is loud in their ears; every nerve feels lit up in that familiar, dangerous way. it isn't safety. it isn't peace. it's intensity. it's HISTORY. it's the kind of pull that feels like drowning and calling it desire. "stop," she says, but it comes out quieter than she means it to, with no sharp edge, or command, just breath catching on his name that she doesn't even say. his words settle over them — we both know how this is gonna go — and for a moment, frankie almost believes him. because this is how it always goes. the closeness, the heat, the way he talks like inevitability is the same thing as truth. his hand at her neck makes her breath catch worse this time, her eyes fluttering shut for half a second before she forces them open again. their hands come up — not to cling, or to pull him closer — but to press lightly against his chest, creating just enough space to think. "don't tell me what i'm gonna do," she manages, her voice shaking in a way she can't quite control. "you don't get to decide how this ends anymore." they swallow hard. "you're right about one thing… i do want you. i always have. that didn't just disappear because i left. but wanting you and choosing you aren't the same thing. not anymore." her fingers press a little firmer into his chest, grounding herself there instead of getting lost in him. "you don't get to stand here and act like this is inevitable," they continue, quieter now but steadier, something resolute threading through it. "like i don't have a say in it. like i'm just gonna fall back into you because it's easier than fighting it. i've done that before and it almost DESTROYED me." a breath, then: "so here's how this actually goes. you get ONE more chance." the words hang between them, heavy and deliberate. "one. to prove you can stand this close to me without turning it into control. without deciding for me. without acting like loving me means owning me." her gaze flickers, honest even now, then settles back on his. "because if you can't… i'm done. not just tonight. i'm done with you. for good. i mean that, stellan."
