She doesn’t look up at him when he comes towards her, flinches slightly when he puts his hands on her. Cool, rough, his voice lingering in the air before her, breath scented with promises.
“It doesn’t give him the right to lock you in a closet, Jude,” she’s looking up at him now, searching his eyes for something but unsure of what. “What if it happens again, huh? What if—fuck,” she could feel herself shaking and she doesn’t understand why, the tears are staining her eyes but they don’t go anywhere else. She throws her arms around his neck, heartbeat on an incline.
“—I can’t lose you, okay? You’re—shit, I care about you, Jude just—don’t let him do this again.”
He’s about to say something, anything, he doesn’t know what –– until she hugs him. His whole chest flips, feeling the heat of her body against his.
And for a moment, he wonders if he kinda loves her.
But he regains himself quickly, reminding himself to hug her back, for whatever reason. So he does, his arms wrapping around her waist, fingers spread apart so he can feel her bones, too, and his nose nestled into her shoulder.
“I’m sorry,” he mumbles, “I can’t change it, this, I can’t change anything, I’m so sorry.”
