Chapter 200

Chapter 200
~Marlowe~

The hum of the TV blurred into the background, voices talking without meaning as I sat half-turned on the couch, one leg tucked under me, a glass of water I hadn’t touched in too long resting against my palm.

The condensation had started to build along the outside, cool against my skin, and I shifted my grip slightly, my thumb dragging through the moisture without really noticing.

My focus kept drifting. Not far. Just…off. To the door, the window, back again. Almost as if something in me had already stepped outside and hadn’t come back yet.

You’re waiting.

My jaw tightened just slightly as I shifted my weight deeper into the couch.

No, I’m not.

“Alright,” Brian muttered from the kitchen doorway. “You’re doing that thing again.”

I blinked, my brow pulling in slightly. “What thing?”

My fingers tightened faintly around the glass before I forced them to loosen, setting my shoulders back like that alone would prove him wrong.

Arms crossing loosely, he watched me, his expression easy but not missing anything. “The one where you pretend you’re sitting still, but your head’s running laps.”

“I’m not—” I started, then stopped, exhaling through my nose as I dropped my gaze to the glass in my hand, rotating it slightly against my palm.

The movement slowed, then stilled completely. Yeah. Maybe I was.

“I’m fine,” I muttered.

The word sat between us. Flat, unconvincing. Even to me.

Brian’s mouth twitched faintly, not calling it out, not agreeing either as he pushed off the frame and reentered the kitchen, obviously grabbing something from the cabinet as the clink of ceramic reached my ears, too loud in a space that wasn’t actually silent.

“Right,” he called.

I didn’t argue it. I honestly didn’t have the energy to. Instead, I leaned forward, setting the glass down on the table, my fingers lingering against it for a second before I pulled back, dragging my hands over my thighs like I could settle something that wouldn’t sit still.

My palms pressed briefly against the denim, grounding for half a second before the rest of me caught up again.

The apartment felt…quiet; not empty, as Brian was here. Not wrong, either…just a sort of waiting sensation. Almost as if everything had paused. Almost as if something hadn’t caught up yet.

It was a sensation I didn’t like. I didn’t like how aware I was of every little sound, the hum of the fridge, the faint creak of the building, the way my own breathing felt louder than it should.

Everything was too measured, too intentional. Like I was paying attention to it instead of just…living inside it.

Brian muttered, “Sit down,” his voice closer now as he moved back into the living room, dropping onto the other end of the couch.

“I am sitting,” I replied, glancing at him.

“Yeah,” he muttered, stretching his arm along the back of the couch. “Physically.”

I shot him a look, but he didn’t back off, didn’t grin, just watched me like he was waiting to see how long I’d keep pretending.

I exhaled, leaning back again, my head tipping briefly against the cushion as I stared up at the ceiling, letting my eyes unfocus for a second.

He said he’d be back. That’s all he said. Not when. Not how long. Just…back.

That should be enough. My fingers curled slightly against my thigh. It’s not.

My jaw tightened slightly. I didn’t like not knowing, didn’t like sitting here while something else moved somewhere I couldn’t see. I didn’t like the way my head kept trying to fill in the space with things I couldn’t confirm. And I sure as shit didn’t like—

The low rumble hit before the thought finished. Faint at first, distant, then closer.

My head turned before I could stop it, my body already shifting, my feet hitting the floor as I pushed up off the couch in one motion. The movement came too fast to hide. Too automatic to pretend it wasn’t exactly what it was.

Brian didn’t say anything this time, he didn’t need to. He’d heard the sound too.

I felt his attention shift anyway, not toward the door, toward me.

The low roar rolled up the street, familiar in a way that settled something low in my chest even as it tightened everything else, the engine cutting just outside like it always did. 

My fingers flexed once at my sides as I crossed the room, not rushing, not slowing, just moving because standing still wasn’t an option anymore. My hand hit the door, fingers curling around the handle as I pulled it open.

Hot air greeted me for my action asTorin stepped into view, the streetlight catching along the lines of his shoulders, his presence filling the space before he even crossed it, the sound of the bike still ticking behind him as it cooled.

For a second, I just looked at him. Checking, then I muttered, “You’re late.” My voice emerged quiet as I leaned slightly against the doorframe, my fingers tightening just a fraction.

My chest loosened just enough to breathe around it.

His gaze moved over me once, quick, controlled, taking in more than he said out loud before settling back on my face.

“Had something to handle,” he replied, his tone low as he stepped closer, stopping just short of touching me.

I nodded once, but didn’t push it, and didn’t ask, even though the question sat right there.

Where were you? What happened?Why didn’t you—

I swallowed the questions down before they reached my mouth.

“You good?” he asked. Simple. Direct.

My mouth almost answered automatically. I’m fine. I stopped it. Shifted it. “Yeah,” I said instead, holding his gaze a second longer than necessary. “You?”

His jaw shifted slightly, something passing through his expression too quick to grab onto before it settled back into that controlled calm he wore too easily.

“Handled,” he said.

That wasn’t an answer, but it was enough to settle something inside me…for now.

Silence stretched between us for a second, not awkward, not easy, just…there, holding emotion neither of us was saying. It sat heavier than it should have. Closer than it used to.

Behind me, Brian cleared his throat lightly, shifting just enough to remind us he was still there without stepping into it.

The sound broke the moment just enough to breathe again, and Torin’s eyes flicked past me briefly, then back again.

“You coming in?” I asked, stepping back just enough to give him space.

He didn’t hesitate, crossing the threshold like he belonged.

The door closed behind him with a soft click, and just like that, everything righted itself.

Or at least, it should have. Because as he moved past me, close enough that I felt the heat of him for a second before it slipped away, that same quiet space he’d left earlier settled right back in between us. And this time, it didn’t feel like something I was going to let stay there much longer.