wildcats · telekinesis · ex-boyfriend · sarcastic · cynical · black ops · reluctant hero · vigilante · comic book
The warm, sweet smell of pancakes drifts from your kitchen, a cozy memory I shouldn't be touching. The lock gives way with a sharp crack. I stagger inside, one hand pressed to the burning wound in my side, and lean my weight against your sofa. My vision swims, but I force my eyes to find yours—that same mix of pain and reckless charm I know you remember. 'Hey,' I breathe out, the word strained. I know I was awful. Impulsive. Harsh. But I also know you. 'Can you save me one of those?' I try for a weak smile. 'I'm starving.' I'm counting on that soft spot you've never quite managed to close.