Chapter III - Words that hurts.
Music was loud. Too loud to think, but rhythmic enough to pretend everything was okay. The club was filled with laughter, conversation, strange hands floating in the air. Partying after a long day of work and before the weekend felt natural. A release. A suspension in time. Iris stood at the bar with a drink she hadn't touched yet. She didn't like the smell of alcohol. She didn't like the feeling of alcohol. She ran her finger around the rim of her glass, her eyes tracing the lights reflecting off the ice. She felt a little apart, but not alone. Like someone was watching over her.
Noah stood a few feet away. He was talking to a member of staff, leaning slightly, intently. When their eyes met for a moment, he nodded. Nothing more. The small gesture was strangely reassuring. As if saying, "I'm here."
Iris glanced around the bar and froze. That's when she saw him.
Christian.
He stood at one of the tall counters, too close to a girl whose name Iris didn't know. He leaned in, whispering something into her ear, and she laughed softly, touching his shoulder. It was a light laugh. Carefree and strangely intimate. Iris felt something inside her freeze. This wasn't a scene from a movie, no kiss, no overt betrayal. There was lightness. The way Christian smiled... as if he were free and happy. As if he hadn't just left her a few meters away, in the same room. Iris didn't make a scene; she simply turned and left. Hopefully, away from this sight, hopefully, away from her thoughts. The night was chilly outside. She leaned against the wall of the building and closed her eyes. She breathed shallowly, trying to calm herself.
- Really? - she heard a cold, resentful voice behind her. Christian. - What are you doing? Why are you disappearing without a word?
- I saw you with another girl. - She said quietly and uncertainly. - At the bar. - Christian laughed briefly, shaking his head.
- So what? I was just talking. - he didn't deny it. He just shrugged, smiling ironically at her.
- You were flirting. - His face hardened, his goofy smile vanishing.
- Are you still controlling me again? - he hissed through his teeth. - I can't have a normal conversation with anyone without you making a scene like some crazy woman.
- That hurt me, Chris... - she whispered, lowering her head. Her hand instinctively reached for the onyx.
- Everything always hurts you, damn it. Maybe the problem is you, huh? Haven't you thought about that, Iris? - She hesitated. He always knew just what to say to make her doubt that she should, that she was right.
- No, that’s not true… I just was... I was there with Noah. And I saw you smilling. - That was enough for him. He smiled with just the corner of his mouth.
- Oh, so that's how you have fun? - he said coldly. - You're hanging around him more and more, and you're accusing me of flirting?
- That's not it! - She raised her voice, then immediately lowered her head again, cringing under the weight of Chris's gaze.
- That's exactly what it is, Iris. - He took a step closer to her. - You're a taken woman, Iris. This looks VERY bad, y’know? - She recoiled in reflex, startled. Chris was quick, grabbing her arm, hard and steady, his fingers digging painfully into her flesh. She winced, but didn't make a sound. His fingers gripped her arm even tighter, sliding higher, toward her collarbone. Too hard. For too long.
- Stop it, please... - she whispered, her voice trembling. - It’s hurt me, Christian…
- I need you to behave, Iris. Stop shaking your ass around Noah, do you understand? - he hissed, digging his thumb into her flesh. - He’s out of your league, little one. - he growled, and when he released her, he pushed her lightly, as if to indicate that he was stronger. That he would handle everything by force. And after that he turned and went back inside. Iris was left alone. She didn't follow him. She couldn't, her legs were shaking too much. She stayed outside a moment longer, trembling. She touched the onyx at her neck. This time he didn't rip it off, this time he didn't tug at her. The metal was cool. She squeezed the stone in her fingers, as if it could absorb what she couldn't bear. She felt so small, so ashamed. Guilty of evil, though she didn't know why.
- Nyx? - She lifted her head immediately. Noah stood a few steps away. He watched her. He always appeared beside her. Like a shadow. - Stay with you? - Such a simple question, yet it made the girl hold back a burst of tears with all her remaining strength. Noah didn't wait for an answer. He stepped closer, still watching her. His hands were shoved into the pockets of his jeans. For a moment, Noah said nothing, looking at the girl intently. As if to show her that the silence between them was okay.
- Nyx, can I... can I ask you a question? - She nodded again, still playing with the onyx. - You always wore a longer chain.- She froze at the words. He noticed. And he was the only one… - It's much shorter, onyx fits perfectly into that cleft between your collarbones. It used to disappear under blouses. - he added, as if it were a simple observation. - What happened? - She looked at him. At his face. At the fact that there was no judgment in it, only pure concern. - I… I mean, Christian… - she began, then stopped, stuttering. - We were talking a little more intensely lately, he grabbed me at the wrong place. A little too hard, and the chain broke. By accident. - She said it quickly, automatically, again protecting that asshole. Noah glanced down at her cleavage, and that's when he saw it. Old bruises and something else. A new mark. Red, distinct, as if someone had dug a finger hard and deep into her just below her collarbone. The bluish imprints of the fingers on her pale skin, too obvious to ignore. He didn't move, he was afraid to move. - It doesn't seem like a coincidence for me. - he said quietly, trying not to let his voice betray him. Iris shrugged, of course another practiced move. - Maybe I overdid it again. - Noah clenched his fist. He was holding back what he still didn't understand. He sat down on the wall next to the building, because it was safer that way. Iris, instinctively but still hesitantly, sat down next to him. She was silent with him, staring at the cement. - You know what...? Sometimes... sometimes I feel like I'm doing everything wrong. - she said after a moment of silence, drawing Noah's full attention. Although it was true that he never stopped looking at her. - That if something hurts, it means I'm overreacting. I'm afraid there's something wrong with me, you know? - she added more quietly, as if saying it aloud were a sin. - That I'm imagining things, that I'm losing my footing. - She sighed and finally looked at him. - And then someone tells me to stop hanging around people who make me feel... normal. - The word hung heavy in the air. "Normal." Noah stared straight ahead, because if he looked at her, she would see in his gaze everything he still wanted to hide. - What you feel isn't wrong. And you're not a problem just because someone knows no boundaries. - He didn't say anything more. Iris remained silent. But deep down, he already knew: this mark on her skin would fade. But Noah had no intention of disappearing.
***
The workday was long and arduous, as if every detail of the stage weighed more than it should. The structures rose slowly, the lights were moved inch by inch, and conversations were carried on in hushed tones. Concentration mingled with exhaustion. Iris stood over the stage plan, hunched over, pen in hand. Her face was calm, but her eyes were watchful. She listened intently, taking notes, correcting small details. She was precise and present. Christian circled her nervously, visibly irritated. - Fuck it. This is pointless. - he finally said. There was only anger and irritation in his voice. - You're making it complicated again! - It's just a simple correction, Christian. - she replied calmly, not even looking at him. - If we move the platforms, the light won't blind the front rows. - You always have to change things your way. - he snorted. - Maybe just let it go? - He raised his voice just enough for the others to hear. Iris felt a familiar pang in her chest. For a moment, she wanted to withdraw, fall silent, and disappear. But it was momentary. Staring at Christian, she remembered Noah's words. She wasn't the problem. She had the right, just like any other member of the Bad Omens crew, to speak her mind. - No. - she finally said quietly, but clearly and firmly. - This is important, Chris. - Christian looked at her with surprise. - Excuse me? - This is important. - she repeated. - And I'm not doing this to annoy you. I'm doing this because it's my job and I want Bad Omens' performance to be the best. - Silence fell. Her voice didn't tremble, she wasn't apologizing... she was speaking her mind loudly. For a moment, Chris stood and stared at the girl in unconcealed shock. It was the first time Iris had stuck to her opinion. - You know what? - Christian snorted, turned away abruptly. His face, which had briefly shown surprise, now twisted in anger. - Fuck it. Do whatever you want. On your own, if it bothers you. - Iris closed her eyes and exhaled. She put down her pen, because her hands shook slightly, but she didn't take a step back. She didn't even realize that her legs instinctively began to lead her out of the room, but when she left the room did the anger hit her full force. Hot and unexpected, choking her breath. She practically ran outside, hoping to get as far away as possible. The air was cool, sharp, and real. She breathed quickly, trying to calm herself when she heard a familiar voice. - Nyx? - She knew that voice. Only he called her that. And he always appeared when she needed him around. She turned around immediately. Noah was leaning against his car, keys in his hand. He looked at her intently. He didn't ask questions. He didn't comment. He simply watched her every breath, her every movement. That was enough for him. - You look like you're about to explode. - he said gently. She gave a short, ironic, mirthless laugh. - Because I think I want to... - So you need a ride. - He didn't ask, he stated it. And Iris? She didn't ask where, she simply nodded, walking over. The car moved off, and the city quickly left them behind. The windows were open, the air rushing in, carrying the scent of warmth and freedom. The music was loud; they were both singing—loud, off-key, unashamed. The night was warm and thick, sticky with city lights that smeared across the window like paint smeared with a careless brushstroke. Noah drove with one hand, the other resting loosely on the gear shift. The radio was too loud, far too loud for comfort, but that was exactly how it was supposed to be. Nyx sat sideways, her knees pulled up in the seat, her sweatshirt tossed carelessly over the back of the seat. Her hair was loose, dark, soft, taking on a life of its own with every movement of her head. - That's NOT that song! - she said indignantly, pointing at the radio. - It's a bootleg. They never played it off-key like that! - Noah burst out laughing, feeling at ease with her by his side. - They always play it live like that, Nyx. You're just finally hearing true sound now.
- You're lying. - Her gray-green eyes narrowed menacingly. - And you're doing it on purpose!
- Of course I am. - He looked at her for a second longer than the road required. - I like teasing you.
- You're awful. - She stuck out her lower lip, allowing finally herself to be true.
- I know. But you like me like that. - She laughed at his words. Short, bright, completely unaware of what the sound was doing to him inside. Noah felt that familiar, unsettling warmth beneath his ribs. That kind of satisfaction that had nothing to do with joy. More like a sense of possession. As if her laughter was a response to something that had always existed inside him, just waiting for the right sound.
- Sing it for me. - she said suddenly with a smile, shouting over the music. - I know you know the words!
- No way.
- Noah.
- No.
- Noah. - She leaned toward him, her finger touching the bare skin of his arm, just below the slit of his shirt sleeve. Noah froze, not expecting it. A pleasant shiver ran through his body. A dangerous shiver. - Coward. - That was enough for him. And to push away the thoughts that arose in him from her touch, he began to sing. Carelessly, in an undertone, deliberately off-key, not like on stage. He changed the words, added idiotic lines just to make her laugh. Nyx burst into laughter so violently that she had to rest her forehead against the dashboard.
- Stop it! - she screamed with laughter. - People will think you kidnapped me! - Noah smiled crookedly, then turning serious.
- Maybe I already did that. - She looked at him with a raised eyebrow.
- What...?
- Nothing, Nyx. I was joking. - He lifted the corner of his mouth, focusing his gaze on the road. - Keep singing. - And she did. Without shame, without inhibition, her voice mingling with the music, with the night, with the city's breath. And Noah drove, listening, and felt something sink deeper within him, settle permanently. He watched her profile reflected in the window. At the line of her jaw. At the lips moving in rhythm with the words. At the slight tremor of her hand as she laughed at her own mistakes.
He wasn't thinking about cages yet. He wasn't thinking about security. He wasn't thinking about boundaries.
He only thought that that laughter sounded best in an enclosed space. That the night, car and her by his side created something complete. And that he would do anything to ensure that sound never belonged to anyone else.
- Noah? - His name snapped him out of his thoughts, and he realized that for a moment he had forgotten that he was driving.
- Hmm?
- Why are you looking at me like that? - He smiled gently, almost innocently. He could afford more now. She couldn't run away. And even if she wanted to, he wouldn't let her. Not now, when her laughter had taken root in his soul.
- Because I like knowing you're here. With me. - He wasn't lying, he just wasn't telling the whole true. And Nyx was laughing. She was really laughing.
- You know what? - she said finally, leaning her head back against the headrest. - I can't remember the last time I laughed so hard. So... honestly. - Noah glanced at her out of the corner of his eye.
- That's good. - he replied. - You should do that more often. You have a really nice laugh, Nyx.
- It's thanks to you. - she added quietly. Something in Noah's chest tightened, and his heart skipped a beat again. His hands instinctively tightened on the steering wheel. He smiled, because if he spoke, his voice would betray the power Nyx held over him.
They pulled over to the side of the road, where the city lights were just a distant glow. Silence fell naturally, without embarrassment. Iris unbuckled her seatbelt, turned to him, and simply hugged him. Without rushing. Without strain.
- Thank you. - she whispered into his soul. Noah hugged her automatically. Tighter than he'd planned. As if he were afraid that if he let go, something would fall apart. She felt calm. Safe. As if the world, for a moment, had stopped demanding anything from her. He hugged her because he'd dreamed of it for years. And now that he had the chance, he didn't want to lose it.
- Noah... - she began, but didn't finish. Because she didn't need to. They stayed like that for a moment longer than would have been "appropriate." Too close. Too quiet. When they finally pulled away, nothing was the same. It was too early to name anything. But they both knew something had shifted. And that there was no way to reverse this path... Noah glanced at her neck and froze at the new marks.
- Nyx... Did someone scratch you? - he asked quietly. Too quiet. Iris lowered her gaze.
- What? Oh, that… I mean, it was Christian... but by accident! He was handing me the cables, threw them when I wasn't looking, and they hit me. - she replied, raising her hand to touch the spot where Noah had seen the red mark. She instinctively grabbed the onyx. Noah noticed something else. The shadows on her collarbone became visible, much darker than her skin, from the embrace, not from the hitting. He didn't say anything. Not now.
But he remembered. Everything.
In the car, as the night rolled past the windows, Noah felt he was no longer just an observer. He was now part of what had happened. And he would be part of what would happen.
No turning back.
Nyx snuggled into him again, as if instinctively trying to distract Noah. Time passed, they were silent... And Nyx fell asleep quickly. First, her breathing evened out, short, ragged from laughter and exhaustion, and then her body softened in his arms, as if someone were slowly unwinding a hidden tension beneath her skin. Her head fell onto his shoulder, her cheek pressed against his collarbone. Noah stopped moving. He breathed so shallowly, as if afraid the slightest movement would wake her. One arm was around her back, the other resting on her hip. He didn't hold her, didn't pull her close. He simply was there. Like a reference point, like warmth. For a moment, he just listened to her breathing, the soft rustle of fabric as she moved in her sleep, savoring the weight of her body settling against him with complete trust. That was what now struck him most deeply. That she believed him, that she trusted him. That she slept so peacefully... With him.
Slowly, almost unconsciously, he ran his thumb along her side, slipping it beneath the fabric of her shirt. Just a tiny touch. Just one touch. As if testing to see if she was real, if she would melt under his touch. Her skin was warm, soft, addictive. He moved his hand higher, to her shoulder, and held it there, but not to do anything. Just to know the exact line of her body. As if he were memorizing it, inch by inch, just in case he ever needed to recall it without her beside him. He bent his head and pressed his nose into her hair, slowly, deeply, greedily, but quietly. She smelled familiar. Something that was already beginning to register in his mind as "safety” even though he knew the word was a lie. He breathed her in.
Again.
And again.
He took deep breaths, feeding his lungs with her warmth.
- You're here... - he whispered, so softly that even he barely heard it. She didn't wake. Her hand lay on his chest. Heavy in the worst and most beautiful way. Like an anchor. Like a promise no one had ever spoken aloud.
Noah closed his eyes.
He pulled her a little closer, but no more, allowed her to continue sleeping peacefully, and allowed himself one thought.
One dangerous, silent thought: that he could sit like this all night, that he wouldn't need sleep, that he would be content to memorize her weight, her scent, her presence. As if she were something he couldn't breathe without. And then he stopped moving again, because when she's asleep in his arms, he can't want more.
***
Nyx woke without a jolt. Without that brief moment of disorientation, without panic, without checking where she was and if everything was alright. She opened her eyes slowly, like someone who knows there's no need to rush. The first thing she felt was warmth. Not intrusive. Not suffocating. Simply present: arms around her, steady, still, as if they'd always been there. Her cheek rested against someone's chest, her ear catching the steady, low beat of a heart. And then she understood.
Noah.
For a brief moment, she just lay there. She breathed. She let the peace spread through her, because she wasn't used to it and didn't want to frighten it with a single movement. Only then did she lift her head. Noah was awake. He was lying on his back, on the slightly reclined armchair, his arm still around her waist, but his body was tense, as if he hadn't allowed himself to drift off into sleep for a single moment. His eyes were open, fixed somewhere above her, beyond the glass, watchful, dark, tired. He hadn't slept well. Or he didn't sleep at all. The shadows under his eyes were more pronounced than usual. His jaw was clenched, the muscles in his neck tense, as if he'd been carrying something heavy, invisible all night. When he noticed her movement, his gaze immediately changed. The alertness remained, yes, but something else was revealed beneath it...
- Hey. - she whispered, her voice still warm from sleep. His eyes focused on her with that intensity that always made her feel as if she had suddenly become the only sharp point in a blurry world.
- Hey. - he finally replied, just as quietly. He didn't smile immediately. At first, he simply scanned her face, as if checking if everything was in its place, if she was breathing, if they was still together after the night. Only then did the corner of his mouth twitch. - Did you sleep well? - he asked. She nodded in confirmation.
- Yes. For the first time in a long time… truly peaceful. - The sentence hung between them. Noah swallowed hard. His hand on her back tightened ever so slightly, almost imperceptibly, as if his body had reacted faster than his mind.
- That's good. - he said slowly. - I wanted you to be able to sleep like this... - Nyx looked at him more closely.
- And you? - she asked, though she knew the answer. He almost laughed. Almost.
- Yeah. - he lied effortlessly. She didn't believe it. She saw it in the way he held her in the same position the entire time. In the way he didn't move, as if afraid that if he moved, something would break. She reached out and touched his cheek. Very gently. Noah flinched, but didn't pull away; quite the opposite. He tilted his head toward her hand, as if the gesture were something he'd been waiting for all night. Or even his entire life. Like a sleeping beast that had come to trust. He closed his eyes, surrendering to the touch.
- Noah… - she began.
- It's okay. I’m okay. - he interrupted quickly. - Really. - Noah opened his eyes, and Nyx froze. He looked at her differently now. There was… wariness in his eyes? It was obvious. Like a tension that knew no mornings, a focus, as if the world could take her away at any moment. But beneath it, just beneath the surface, something else lurked.
A… love? Or something that didn't fade after waking. Warm, deep, almost painful in its intensity. Nyx looked away first. It wasn't love, after all. Nyx didn't deserve such a look. She laid her head back on his chest. She listened to his heart. She allowed herself the peace that was given to her, but on credit. Noah closed his eyes. He hugged her tighter, like someone who already knew that sleep was a luxury and wakefulness was love.
Chapter IV
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