Clarke
“You’re not really asking—”
“I am,” she said, shifting to face me fully. “It’s all I’ve wanted for months. Who exactly is this girl I can’t stop thinking about?” Her voice softened. “I want to know you. Truly know you.” Her eyes met mine—steady, searching, unflinching. “Who are you, really?”
I blinked and looked away, unable to withstand the intensity of her gaze.
“I’m scared,” I muttered. I gently lifted Artemis’ head from my lap and stood, brushing hay from my jeans.
“That’s okay,” Avalon said, following me toward the window. Rain streaked down the glass in heavy sheets, the clouds darker than before. “You don’t have to tell me anything you don’t w—”
I shook my head, waving my hands as if brushing away cobwebs.
“No, it’s not that. I’m terrified. And angry. And—” A sob caught in my throat. I turned away quickly, hoping she wouldn’t see the tears gathering in my eyes.
I hated talking about my feelings. It made me feel weak.
Exposed. Breakable. And I couldn’t afford to be breakable.
Not when I was supposed to be the one who held everything together.
The one Melody could look up to. The one who kept Colton grounded.
The one who carried my mother’s legacy and my father’s expectations.
I was the eldest daughter. The backbone. The example. There wasn’t room for weakness in that role. There wasn’t room for me.
“Melody’s getting worse,” I whispered — the first time I’d said it aloud. I had known for months. She slept more. She grew tired faster. Some days she looked so fragile I barely recognized her.
“They think they’re protecting me,” I said, voice trembling. “But I know in my bones that—” I couldn’t finish the sentence. Saying it would make it real. And I couldn’t let it be real.
“I’m sorry,” Avalon whispered, slipping an arm around my waist. Her touch was gentle, careful — like she knew I might shatter. “It’s okay, Clarke. It’s all okay.”
But it wasn’t. And her words didn’t fix anything. Still… I didn’t pull away.
We stood like that in silence, her thumbs tracing slow circles on my lower back. Eventually, I leaned into her, letting her hold me. She didn’t seem to mind the weight — she just held me tighter, resting her chin on my shoulder.
After a moment, Avalon let out a soft breath, shaky as if she was bracing herself. Her hold on me loosened, not gone completely but enough to let me know that if I wanted to step away, I could.
And she would let me.
I didn’t.
“I think we could work,” she murmured, her breath warm against my neck. Her gray eyes stayed fixed on the storm outside, the world beyond the window fading into shadows. “I really do.”
“Why?” I asked softly, placing my hand over hers. “We still have so much to learn about each other. You hardly know me.”
Avalon shrugged lightly, her gaze flicking to mine. “The fact that you’re letting me hold you tells me you’re willing to try. And we’ve been making progress all summer, even if you don’t want to admit it.”
She squeezed me gently, as if trying to mold herself into my shape. “I want to know you, Clarke. All of you. You’re not broken—or whatever you’ve been telling yourself in that pretty head of yours. Not to me.”
I smiled—small, but real—and leaned into her a little more. Being held like this felt strange. Being seen felt stranger. Being believed felt impossible.
But for the first time in a long time, I felt safe. Safe in my body. Safe in my mind. And I found that safety in her arms.
“Let’s try,” I whispered. “Let’s try and see if this could really work.” I turned to face her, mischief tugging at my lips. “It’s terrifying. But it has to be worth a shot, right?”
Avalon bit her lower lip, nodding eagerly. “We’ll never know if we don’t try. Best to face our fears head-on. Together.”
I cupped her face, and she rose onto her tiptoes to kiss me. She smiled into my lips, fingers curling around my wrists.
Our mouths moved in perfect synchronicity—molding, tugging, pulling—but not with the same hunger as earlier.
This was different. The desperation was still there, simmering beneath the surface, but something else threaded through each kiss.
Something deeper. Something I couldn’t name, only feel vibrating through every inch of me.
Avalon’s hands slid down my body with a kind of hungry certainty, gripping my waist and slipping beneath my shirt. Her fingers traced the curves of my torso, firm enough to make me gasp into her mouth instead of pulling away.
Our chests brushed together, and even through the thin flannel of my rodeo shirt, I could feel the heat of her body, the tension coiling between us. I dipped my head, kissing beneath her jaw before dragging my teeth lightly across her neck, soothing the mark with my tongue.
Avalon let out a sharp, breathy sound, her head tipping back. I pressed my knee between her legs, pulling her upright again as my lips continued their slow path along her throat. Her soft moans and whispered pleas filled the barn, each one hitting me like a spark.
For a moment, I let myself imagine it—the two of us disappearing into the shadows of the barn, waiting out the storm in each other’s arms.
“C’mere,” I murmured against her skin, stepping back just enough to cup her cheek with my thumb. Her eyes were glazed with want, her lip caught between her teeth as she nodded.
I laced our fingers together and tugged her after me, weaving us through the rows of sleeping animals. Their soft snores filled the quiet, the storm outside rumbling like a warning.
Avalon squeezed my hand, excitement and anticipation practically humming through her skin.
“Where are you taking me?” she whispered as we slipped through a narrow passageway formed by stacked hay bales.
I tossed her a smile over my shoulder.
“Just a little farther—” A sudden, deafening bang cut through the air. We froze.
I turned toward the barn entrance and my stomach dropped. A dark silhouette stood in the doorway. Lightning flashed, illuminating the grim, strained expression on my father’s face.
“Clarke!” he shouted, voice tight with panic. “Clarke!”
His eyes landed on us—on our joined hands, our flushed faces, our closeness—and something in his expression shifted.
“Clarke,” he whispered, this time with relief. “It’s your sister— your mother needs you. Melody—”