OPERATION WINTERSPINE (Strings Between Us Book 2)

CHAPTER FIFTY-TWO: OF LINGERING GAZES, UNWANTED TRUTHS AND THE WEIGHT OF SILENCE

CHAPTER FIFTY-TWO: OF LINGERING GAZES, UNWANTED TRUTHS AND THE WEIGHT OF SILENCE

Xythe's POV

She didn't say anything. Didn't react. Not that I needed her to. I only gave her the words she wanted to hear.
And she knew. She knew I was pulling away.

Fuck. Of course I was. She has a boyfriend. I can't stay too close—not when Khaizer's already watching me like a shadow, not when one wrong step could make this whole thing combust.

Her eyes lingered on me a second too long, and it burned. I couldn't stand it. I turned away before the pull in my chest got stronger, before my face betrayed me. My footsteps felt too heavy, dragging toward the dorm. By the time I reached my room, I slammed the door shut, the echo cutting through the silence like a blade. I locked it. Held my breath.

Silence. That's all I needed.
Or maybe that's what I kept telling myself.

The truth? I hated it. Hated seeing Ari worried. Hated the crease in her brow when she thought no one was watching. Hated the tremor in her voice when she was too tired to hide it. And fuck—her tears. I'd give anything not to hear her cry again. But what else could I do? She isn't mine anymore. I have no rights to her, no claim. Just ghosts of four years carved into my chest.

Still... earlier, when she looked at me, I saw it—that crack in her mask. The one she only ever showed me and Saichel. That fleeting, fragile break in her armor. It almost undid me. My hands had twitched with the urge to pull her in, to hold her like I used to, like I was the only one allowed to. But I can't. Not anymore. Not when she belongs to someone else.

The room was dark except for the faint hum of the desk lamp. My chest felt tight, restless. I sat there, letting the silence press down, trying not to think of her face, her voice, the way she used to say my name.

Keryn called me down for dinner. I ignored it. Didn't trust my voice to sound steady. She didn't press. She never does.

But Saichel—
Different story.

The door creaked open without warning, and he strolled in like the rules didn't exist. No knock, no hesitation, just a loud, obnoxious entrance that shattered my silence. He flopped onto the couch near my bed, arms sprawled, as if he owned the place.

"Are you planning to starve yourself to death?" His voice rang out, showy, dramatic — but his pulse betrayed him. Under the chaos, I saw the grind of concern, iron-gray hidden beneath all the fractured noise.

"I'm just skipping dinner. Don't make it sound like I'm killing myself," I muttered, flat, clipped. My throat felt dry, like every word was scraped out against gravel.

He laughed—too loud, too sharp. Tss. Typical Saichel. Act crazier, sound louder, drown the truth under chaos. He never fooled the Lens, though. I could see through every mask.

"I heard you and Ari talking earlier," he said, tone heavier now.

I narrowed my eyes. "Of course you did. You're Saichel. Eavesdropping's your specialty."

"She was worried about you." His pulse rippled outward as he sighed — rose-gold threads glinting through his own spectrum, echoing hers. "I was worried, Xythe."

My jaw locked. "I'm fine, Saichel."

He rolled his eyes. "Don't play with me. I know you're not. Your pulse pattern was leaking so loud I almost choked on it. I had to drown it out—act louder, crazier—just so Ari wouldn't catch it."

My chest tightened. Silence pressed down on me. He was right. My pulse faltered—jagged, unstable. Drifting, pulling back, drifting again. Exactly what I was trying to hide.