Kieran remained silent and stoic as he followed me into his living room.
What the fuck didhehave to be angry about?
I realized, then, glancing at that couch, that this was probably a conversation more suited for neutral ground. But at this point… there weren’t any particularlyneutralplaces for Kieran and I, now were there?
Everything between the two of us was personal.
The anger in his eyes had dulled slightly as he followed my gaze, his visage growing somewhat listless instead. He was certainly carrying himself like a godsdamned corpse—no Light or life to be found as I searched his face, looking for answers. Trying to figure out what the Hel I wanted to say to him.
Silence fell between us. It was probably only a minute at most, maybe two—but it felt like hours.
My palms prickled with sweat.
Just say something, Arken. Anything.
“You know, that wasn’t exactly what I meant when I asked for a fucking warning,” I finally said, surprised by how bitter my voice sounded.
He raised a single brow, but said nothing in response.
“But I suppose you never actually agreed to that, huh?” I continued. “Listen, Kier…”
I trailed off for a moment, sighing heavily as I ran one hand through my hair.
“I’m sorry. I’m sorry if I let things get weird between us. I’m sorry if I pushed your boundaries, or if I took things too far when it came to my feelings for you. Iknowthat we both had our reasons for keeping things platonic, and we fucked up. I’m guessing this is your way of putting me back in my place.”
He kept staring back at me, impassive. Not a single emotion passing through his face, no confirmation or denial.
“So… go ahead,” I said quietly, resigned to this as our only way forward. “Put me back into whatever box you’re most comfortable with, Kieran. I can handle it. Keep your secrets, keep your space. You didn’t have tolie.You could have just said something. And please, don’t try to lie now. Don’t act like I don’t know you better than that.”
He had been so stoic and silent that it was almost a surprise when he spoke.
“No, Arken. You really, really don’t.”
His voice was dull, but unyielding. My temper flared, bristling against thefinalityof it all, and the audacity that he had to try and put up a front.
“Oh, spare me the bullshit, Kieran,” I snapped. “You’re my best friend. I know you.”
He snorted.
“Friends. Is that what we are?”
There was clarity in his eyes now as he took several steps towards me, carrying himself with that familiar feline grace—only this time, it actually felt predatory.
“Of course,” I said.
“No,” he said slowly. “I don’t think so.”
My brows knit together as I tried to parse whatever he was trying to imply here. Even if Kieran was trying to push me away, push us back behind our own respective walls of platonic safe-keeping, how could he suggest that we weren’t evenfriends?
“None of this was real, Arken.” Kieran said, looking at me as if that should have been obvious.
It was honestly a little bit terrifying, the way he could make such a lie sound genuine as it slid off his tongue. But I would face it down. For him.
“And what, pray tell, would you call the last year or so of your free time?” I challenged.
“I was just doing my job.”
What?