Folding For You

Chapter 3: Killian

I leaned against the desk, arms folded tight, staring through Derek as he rattled about AI, cybersecurity, and renewable energy. I should care about all the usual talking points, and I do, but not right now. Right now, my mind was elsewhere, somewhere I couldn't drag it back from, no matter how hard I tried.

I couldn't stop thinking about her.

That night at the bar, it's like it's on repeat. Sabrina. Who does origami in a bar, seriously? At first, I thought it was strange, but then I tried it. The feel of the paper in my hands, the focus, the calm... it was like she had control over the storm of chaos around her, completely unfazed. It did something to me, seeing that, and I couldn't shake it.

"Killian!" Derek's voice cut through my thoughts like a blade. I blinked and dragged back to the room, to him. His eyes locked onto mine, sharp, irritated. "Are you even listening?"

I stared at him momentarily, my mind still trailing in last night's shadows. "Sorry, Derek," I said, not even trying to hide that my head wasn't in the conversation. "Not now."

Before he could argue, I pushed off the desk and headed for the door. Another second of corporate banter would break something inside me. I needed air. I needed out.

The elevator doors closed, and I leaned against the cool metal, my heart racing with a tension I couldn't place. It was just one night, one woman. So why the hell did it feel like more?

Hanson was waiting downstairs, standing by the car as always, ready to follow orders. But I wasn't even sure what I wanted.

"Where to, sir?" he asked, glancing at me in the rearview mirror, a question in his eyes.

I didn't hesitate. "Wings and Fries."

As the city blurred past the windows, I could feel the knot in my chest tightening, that same restless energy twisting inside me. Sabrina. It was all so irrational, but nothing had made sense since the moment she sat across from me, folding those damn paper apples and whatnot.

When we pulled up outside Wings and Fries, I didn't leave immediately. I sat there like an idiot, staring at the door. Why was I here? Was I going to ask around about her like some obsessed fool? My hand tightened on the door handle. "Get a grip, Killian," I muttered under my breath.

I finally stepped out and pushed open the door to the eatery. Bright walls, loud posters—a place that should grate on me, but instead, it felt like... her. Sabrina's world was vibrant and alive; somehow, it drew me in and disarmed me.

I walked to the counter, where a dude—Ollie, according to his name tag—stood behind the register. "Hey, Ollie," I said, trying not to sound like a complete creep. "Where can I find Sabrina?"

Ollie's expression shifted, suspicion darkening his features as he folded his arms. "What do you want with Sabrina?"

Before I could answer, another worker—Greta—piped up. "You're the guy who made her cry, right?"

What the hell? I blinked, taken aback. "Cry? No, I— I don't even have her number! How could I have made her cry?"

Greta looked at me like I'd confirmed all her suspicions. "Oh, you're one of those."

"One of those?" I echoed, feeling my patience fray.

Before I could say another word, I felt a gentle tug on my elbow. I turned, and there she was—Sabrina. Her face was streaked with tears, mascara smudged, but somehow... still beautiful. At that moment, everything else faded, and all I could see was her.

"Dimples," I breathed, seeing her face pulls me under like a current I couldn't fight.

"Killian?" She looked at me, eyes wide with confusion. "What are you doing here?"

I didn't have an answer; not a good one anyway. I couldn't tell her that I'd been haunted by the image of her, by that strange calm she carried like armour. I couldn't explain that I'd been running from my thoughts all day, only to find them leading me back to her.

"I... I don't know," I admitted, running a hand through my hair, feeling more exposed than I liked. "I just couldn't stop thinking about you. That night. The apples and bellflowers. Everything."

Sabrina stared at me, her eyes softening momentarily before clouding with uncertainty again. "Killian... you came at a really bad time. Look at me! I'm a mess right now."

"Join the club," I said, laughing half-heartedly. "We're all a mess, Dimples."

She looked at me then, really looked at me, and for the first time since I'd walked into that bar, I felt like maybe, just maybe, this was where I needed to be.