The fire crackled in the hearth, but it couldn’t burn off the cold between us. I took a long drag from the cigarette, staring at her across the room. The audacity. The nerve. I’d seen a lot of things in my time—betrayals, bloodshed, loyalty bought and sold—but this? This was something else.

She had that look in her eyes, the one she gets when she thinks she’s in the right. It makes me want to do something stupid, like pick her up and throw her out the damn window. But I don’t, because I know her better than anyone. She’s the one person who can get under my skin more than anyone else in the world.

“You think you can just walk in here and tell me how it’s gonna be?” I growled, trying to keep my voice steady. It didn’t work. I was mad, and I wasn’t hiding it. It was like trying to bottle up a bloody explosion.

She’s standing there, all fire and fury, looking at me like I’m the problem. And maybe I am, but I’m not the only one at fault here. She knows better. We’ve had this dance before, but this time... this time feels different. There’s a sharpness to her words that cuts deeper than any blade.

I leaned back against the mantel, tapping my cigarette, watching the smoke curl in the dim light. She’s stubborn, always has been. And I’m bloody well the same. It’s why we’re at each other’s throats more often than not. I should’ve seen it coming—the argument, the tension, the bloody storm in the air. But then again, I’d rather be in the middle of a war than deal with this. Because at least in war, there’s a way to win.

But with her? There’s no winning. And that’s the problem.