Breakdown

Elena.

As I passed through the side gate of the school, I saw a familiar face. Killian stood there, holding his keys, confusion evident on his face.

Fresh tears fell as I saw him, and without thinking, I dramatically ran the other way. It felt like the whole world was against me, and he was just another weight on top of it.

He called out my name as I left him behind, but I brushed him off. I made my way to the opposite direction of the parking lot, heading towards the field. After spotting some sports teams warming up, I picked the only path that I could see. It was heavily covered with shrubs and barely visible, but it was still a path.

I had no idea what I was looking for, but I kept walking anyway.

My chest felt tight, and I tried to take deep breaths, but it only made the tears fall faster. I hated this. I hated how easily I cried. I hated how everyone always saw me as weak.

I wiped my tears in vain as I walked further down the path. I could hear the crunch of his dress shoes against the fallen leaves behind me. He was following, quickly, but still keeping his distance.

When I reached a curve in the path, I finally stopped and turned around. My red-rimmed eyes met his, and I swallowed hard, nervous.

"Why did you reject me as your mate?" I asked. It was a question I had asked before. Maybe not as dramatically as this, but I had still asked it.

He stood in the middle of the path, looking torn. Even so, he was still trying to process my words, and I knew he was struggling too. I was just a teenage girl, and I had no idea or reason.

"Elena..." His voice was barely a murmur. Pain was etched across his face, and for the first time, I really saw him. He was suffering.

"What’s wrong with me?" I cried, clenching my fists, letting out the agony that was tearing me apart. My body wavered slightly, my vision blurring. I was too overwhelmed.

Killian rushed forward, catching me before I collapsed to my knees on the hard ground. Luckily, there was no dew or rain to make it damp, only a carpet of fallen autumn leaves, forming a sea of red and orange around us.

"I don’t even know what I did wrong," I sobbed, my shoulders shaking violently. I buried my face into my knees, curling into myself as if I could protect myself from the pain clawing at my heart. My breaths came in gasps, each one feeling heavier, like a stone pressing against my chest. The harder I tried to calm down, the worse it got. My vision spun, my head pounded, and the world blurred around me.

Killian said nothing, but I could feel his warmth as he adjusted his position, pulling me closer.

"Breathe with me," he whispered, almost too softly.

Then, he guided me, unzipped his jacket, and pulled me to his chest. He placed my hand over his heart, breathing deeply to calm himself. As I tried to match his breathing, I heard... his heartbeat, its steady rhythm and I felt calm.

I could feel his heart beating under my palm, strong and steady, quite a contrast to my own erratic heartbeat. Closing my eyes, I tried to follow his deep, steady breathing. Little by little, my senses came back. My sobs died down to quiet hiccups, but at least I could breathe again.

Then, in a rough, slightly broken voice, Killian started to speak.

"I don’t want to hurt you, Lena."

The words made my eyes snap open again. I looked at him through the tears still clinging to my lashes. His normally bright eyes were dark, a storm raging within them. His jaw was clenched, his nose slightly red as if he, too, was holding back something painful. I knew then— it wasn’t just me. He was fighting his own demons. His wolf.

I swallowed hard, still sniffling, my voice barely above a whisper. "But you already have."

He turned away, his expression unreadable. His hand ran over his face, rubbing his eyes roughly before he pulled me closer again. But I had reached the point where his touch no longer comforted me.

"If I love you…" His voice cracked, sounding like someone desperately trying to hold in a wound no one could see. "I could hurt you even more."

I gripped his jacket with trembling hands, whispering words that made my chest ache even more.

"I'm dying like this... don't you know?"

For what felt like an eternity, there was only a deathly silence that enveloped us. The kind of silence I've always hated.

I could see him battling with his wolf, his inner turmoil clearly reflected in his eyes that glinted and darkened. His jaw clenched, his muscles tensed, as if there was something he wanted to fight or perhaps, something he wanted to let go of. But amongst the storm raging within him, his gaze remained locked on me, as if I was the center of all the dilemmas crushing him from within.

Then, in an almost inaudible voice, he whispered, “Goddess, please forgive me...”

Before I could get a hold of his words, he lowered his head, leaning in close until I could feel his warm breath brush against my skin. The next second, his lips touched mine... softly, almost like the wind that sneaks in amongst the dying autumn.

That kiss... it's not like anything I've ever felt before.

Not the kind of rush, not the kind of kiss filled with burning passion like in clichéd romance stories. Instead, it was a deeply tender kiss, as if he was afraid of making me break under his touch. There was sincerity in it, something more than mere desire or lust.

And most surprisingly... it tingled.

Like pop candies gently popping all over my lips, only it's not the fruity flavor I taste, but rather the familiar warm scent... vanilla, sweet and soothing.

He doesn't pull away. There was no panic or hesitation.

Instead, he kept kissing me, giving us enough time to sink into the moment, to explore every pent-up feeling between us.

And as I began to kiss him back, I realized that this kiss wasn't just a kiss.

This was an answer.

This was devotion.

This was the beginning of something that was not to be.