Being with Olivia was like standing in the eye of a storm—calm and intoxicating, but always with the threat of chaos lurking at the edges.
In the days following our kiss, everything shifted. She was everywhere, filling the spaces in my life I hadn't even realized were empty. She pulled me closer, made me feel like I was the only person who mattered. And I let her.
At first, it was exhilarating. Every moment we spent together felt electric, like I was part of something bigger, something special. But Olivia's presence came with a weight—a constant, inescapable pressure that I couldn't quite put into words.
One afternoon, we sat in the theater, the stage empty except for the two of us. Olivia was sprawled across the stage floor, usual sketchbook in hand, while I sat on the edge, camera resting in my lap.
"You know what I love about you?" she said suddenly, her voice breaking the comfortable silence.
I glanced at her, caught off guard. "What?"
"You're steady," she said, her eyes fixed on the ceiling. "When everything else is a mess, you're just... there. You keep me grounded."
Her words sent a rush of warmth through me, but there was something in her tone that made my chest tighten.
"I don't know what I'd do without you," she added, her voice softer now.
It sounded like a compliment, but it felt like a chain.
***
As our relationship deepened, Olivia's grip on me tightened. She became more demanding, more insistent. She wanted to know where I was, what I was doing, who I was with.
At first, it felt like care, like love. But soon, it became suffocating.
"Why didn't you answer my text?" she asked one evening, her tone sharper than usual.
"I was in class," I said, holding up my phone as proof. "I didn't see it."
"You always have your phone," she said, her eyes narrowing. "Are you avoiding me?"
"No, of course not," I said quickly, the weight of her gaze making my stomach twist.
Her expression softened slightly, but the tension lingered. "I just worry about you," she said, stepping closer. "I need to know you're okay."
Her words wrapped around me like a net, leaving me tangled in a mix of guilt and obligation.
The next day, I was working in the darkroom when Olivia showed up unannounced. She leaned against the doorframe, her arms crossed, watching me as I hung the latest batch of photos to dry.
"You spend a lot of time in here," she said, her tone casual but her eyes sharp.
"It's my job," I said, not looking up.
"Maybe," she said, stepping inside. "But don't forget about us."
"I haven't," I said quickly, but the words felt hollow.
She crossed the room, her fingers trailing along the edge of the counter before stopping in front of me. "Good," she said, reaching out to brush a strand of hair from my face. "Because I love you, you know that."
Her touch was light, but her words felt heavy, like an anchor pulling me under.
***
That night, as I lay in bed, Olivia's words echoed in my mind. I couldn't shake the feeling that I was losing myself, piece by piece. But every time I thought about pulling away, I remembered the way she looked at me, the way she made me feel like I was the only one who could hold her world together.
And so, I stayed.
YOU ARE READING
Tethered Light
Romance"Before the chaos, there was quiet. Before the darkness, there was light." This story is a prequel to Echoes of Us and Through the Lens of You, where Heather takes us back to her college years - seven years before that fateful night when she met Bil...
