frostbite

Chapter 27: Close Quarters

The drive to Evelyn's place was thick with a tension Eden could almost taste. The silence between them wasn't cold, but it was heavy, dense with unspoken words and unacknowledged feelings. Every time Evelyn's fingers twitched on the steering wheel or Eden shifted in her seat, the air crackled with the energy of everything they weren't saying.

Eden glanced out the window, the rain still hammering down outside, turning the city into a blur of lights and reflections. But even the rain couldn't drown out the sound of her own heartbeat, pulsing in time with the charged silence inside the car. Evelyn's presence next to her was overwhelming—an electric current that seemed to pull Eden in, even when her mind screamed at her to keep her distance.

Evelyn's house was nestled in a quiet neighborhood, its dark exterior nearly invisible in the downpour. As she pulled into the driveway and killed the engine, the sound of the rain against the car roof intensified, filling the space between them with its rhythmic drumming. For a moment, neither of them moved.

Eden stole a glance at Evelyn. Her face was unreadable, her gaze fixed straight ahead, but there was something in the set of her jaw, the way her fingers gripped the steering wheel even though the car was no longer moving. It was like she was bracing herself for something, some inevitable shift that neither of them could control.

"You don't have to do this," Eden said quietly, her voice barely cutting through the sound of the storm. "I can find somewhere else to stay tonight."

Evelyn finally turned to face her, her eyes locking with Eden's in a way that made her breath catch. "I know," she replied, her voice soft but firm. "But I want you to stay."

The way she said it—so calmly, but with a subtle edge—sent a shiver down Eden's spine. There was a challenge in Evelyn's eyes, something daring her to question it, to push back against the tension that had been building between them for what felt like forever. But Eden didn't push. Not this time.

Without another word, they both got out of the car, the rain soaking them again as they hurried to the front door. The cold, biting wind rushed against Eden's skin, but inside she felt warm, too warm, her pulse quickening with every step.

Evelyn unlocked the door with quick, precise movements, and they stepped inside the warmth of the house. The door closed behind them, sealing them off from the rest of the world, leaving only the sound of their breathing and the distant hum of the rain outside. Eden felt the quiet press down on her again, more intimate, more dangerous now that they were alone in Evelyn's space.

The house was clean, minimalistic, as controlled and precise as Evelyn herself. But it didn't feel sterile—it felt lived in, though carefully so. Everything was in its place, everything just so. Eden toed off her wet shoes by the door, casting a glance around the room, her mind still spinning.

Evelyn's eyes were on her, watching her closely as she shrugged out of her soaked jacket and draped it over a chair near the entryway. The weight of that gaze was almost too much, pulling Eden's attention back to her every time she tried to focus on something else.

"You can get dry in the bathroom," Evelyn said, her voice breaking through the quiet. "I'll find you something to wear."

Eden nodded, feeling her throat tighten. She walked to the bathroom as Evelyn headed down the hall. The door clicked shut behind her, and Eden caught her reflection in the mirror. Her hair was damp, and her skin still glistened with the rain, her eyes wide and uncertain.

She took a deep breath, trying to steady herself. She wasn't sure what she had expected tonight, but it wasn't this. She wasn't prepared for the way the tension between her and Evelyn had reached its breaking point, for the way everything seemed to be hanging by a thread.