Finn stood before you, the rain soaking you both.

“Tell me you hate me,” you demanded, voice raw, desperate.

he should. he always had. But the words tangled, caught in the quiet space where loathing had shifted into longing. Lightning flashed, revealing the hesitation and anger in his eyes. the same ache tightening in your chest.

“I can’t,” he whispered, and in an instant, his lips crashed on yours as he cupped your face in his hands.