Page 105

I glare at him, but it’s useless. He’s enjoying this too much. I should turn around, leave him to his mood, let him have whatever space he thinks he needs.
But I don’t. Because there’s something underneath it, something he’s not saying. And I refuse to let him bury it.
I step in front of him, forcing him to stop. “Silas.”
His smirk falters. Just a little.
I swallow, lowering my voice. “Are you okay?”
For a second, he does nothing. Just looks at me, mouth parted like he wasn’t expecting the question. Then he exhales, tilting his head back, running a hand through his already-messy hair.
“Fuck,” he mutters. “I don’t know.”
It’s the closest thing to honesty I’ve gotten from him all night.
I take a breath, steadying myself before stepping closer. Close enough that I can feel the warmth radiating off him, close enough that if I reached out, I could touch him.
He watches me, wary.
“I meant it, you know,” I say quietly. “I worried about you.”
Silas’s throat bobs. He looks away. “I know.”
I don’t ask if he missed me, too. I don’t have to. Because his hands twitch at his sides, and when I move, just a fraction, he doesn’t pull away.