Collide

t e n

Malachi

The morning light filters through my blinds, casting long, thin shadows across the room. I lie in bed, staring up at the ceiling, my mind a tangled mess of thoughts I can't seem to unravel. Last night's party feels like a blur, but one thing stands out with sharp clarity: kissing Sloane.

What the hell was I thinking?

I rub a hand over my face, trying to push the memory away, but it lingers, stubborn and insistent. I can still feel the softness of her lips against mine, the way her breath hitched when I pulled her close. It's like a brand, seared into my mind, and no matter how hard I try, I can't seem to shake it.

But I know better than to dwell on it. Sloane and I are like oil and water—we don't mix. And last night was a mistake, plain and simple. I need to focus on the things that matter, like hockey, school, and keeping this team on track. There's no room in my life for distractions, especially not ones as complicated as Sloane.

With a sigh, I swing my legs over the side of the bed and get up, stretching out the stiffness in my muscles. The house is quiet, the remnants of last night's party scattered across the living room and kitchen. Empty cups, discarded plates, and crumpled napkins litter the surfaces, a testament to the chaos that had unfolded.

I head to the kitchen, hoping to find some coffee still in the pot. To my surprise, Theo is already there, leaning against the counter with a mug in hand, his eyes bleary with sleep.

"Morning," I mutter, grabbing a cup and pouring myself some coffee.

Theo grunts in response, taking a long sip from his mug. "Rough night?"

I shrug, not in the mood to talk about it. "Eh. Could've been worse. You?"

"Same," he replies, though there's a flicker of something in his eyes that tells me he's holding back. "Leo and Harper really went at it, huh?"

"Yeah," I say, though my mind is elsewhere. "You think they'll be okay?"

Theo chuckles, shaking his head. "They'll be fine. Harper's tough, and Leo... well, he's an idiot, but he knows when to back off."

I nod, though I'm not entirely convinced. The tension between those two has been simmering for a while now, and last night's blowup felt like the culmination of something bigger. But it's not my problem. I've got enough on my plate without getting caught up in their drama.

We fall into a comfortable silence, sipping our coffee as the house slowly comes to life around us. Nico stumbles into the kitchen a few minutes later, looking even more disheveled than usual, and mumbles something about needing food. I watch him rummage through the fridge, my thoughts drifting back to Sloane despite my best efforts to keep them at bay.

She's different from anyone I've ever met—sharp, stubborn, and not afraid to stand her ground. It's infuriating, the way she challenges me, but it's also... intriguing. There's a fire in her that I can't ignore, no matter how hard I try.