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I push it aside, pretending it’s nothing. I can’t afford for it to besomething.

Not now.

The tension that’s been hanging in the air begins to shift. Instead of pushing back against them, I start to let their presence seep into me, even if I don’t fully understand the way it’s making me feel yet.

The day stretches on, the storm showing no signs of letting up. We hang out together, playing cards and talking, even dusting off some ancient family board games to play. It’s nice. Weird to have company after so long. But not entirely unwelcome.

After dinner, as the evening drags, that restlessness increases and I try to retreat to my room, but it’s like the air in there is thicker than in the rest of the house, pressing in on me. I pace for what feels like hours before finally giving up and heading back to the sitting room.

They’re still there. Blaise has sprawled out on the sofa, Xar sits cross-legged on the floor playing Patience, and Dane leans against the wall, looking like he hasn’t moved an inch.

What’s his deal? Why can’t he just relax and make himself comfortable like the others?

Whoa, I want them to make themselves at home now?

“You’re still awake?” I ask, hovering in the doorway. The relief in my body as soon as I’m in their presence is inexplicable.

Xar glances at me, his expression calm, steady. “Storms keep us alert.”

Blaise stretches, flashing a lazy smile. “And the company isn’t bad, now at least.”

I shake my head, but instead of leaving, I find myself stepping further into the room.

“I’m making tea,” I announce, more to fill the space than anything else. “If anyone wants some.”

Dane looks up. “Tea would be nice. Thanks.”

I blink, thrown off by the quiet sincerity in his voice. It’s such a stark contrast to Blaise’s teasing and Xar’s intensity.

Without another word, I head to the kitchen, grateful for the excuse to leave. But as I fill the kettle, I can’t shake the way they’re slowly pulling me in, making me feel seen in a way that terrifies me.

When I return with the tea, they’ve moved around the room – Dane now sits in the armchair, his long legs stretched out, while Blaise strums an acoustic guitar I didn’t even notice him bring in. Xar’s packed away the cards and is now flipping through another one of Grams’ books, his focus calm and steady.

I set the mugs down on the table, pretending not to notice the way Xar’s gaze lingers on me.

“Thanks,” Dane says softly, his voice breaking the quiet.

I nod, sitting down on the edge of the sofa, as far from them as I can manage. Blaise plucks at the guitar strings, humming something low and familiar.

“You know this one?” he asks suddenly, looking at me.

“No.” The lie comes out too quickly, too sharp.

Blaise narrows his eyes, the corners of his mouth twitching. “Don’t believe you.”

I glare at him, heat creeping into my cheeks. “Why does it matter?”

“Because it’s fun to watch you squirm,” he says, smirking.

“Blaise,” Xar says, his tone sharp enough to make Blaise hold up his hands in surrender.

“Fine, fine.” He strums a different melody, his grin softening. “But seriously. You’ve got good taste, I can tell.”

I sink further into the sofa, trying not to react, but the sound of the music makes something in my chest ache. It’s a song I know too well – one I’ve played a hundred times in the studio downstairs, back when I thought I could be someone else.

For a moment, I let myself close my eyes and listen. Just for a moment.

The melody wraps around me like memory, soft and bittersweet, tugging at something I’ve kept locked deep. It’s not just a song. It’s a piece of the version of me I buried years ago – the girl who dreamed, whocreated, who let herself feel things too deeply.