The Keys to freedom

Torn in two

Oz shut her laptop with a frustrated sigh, the blue glow disappearing as her room sank into the comforting darkness of night. She had been staring at the same pages of research for hours, trying to piece together the clue that had been eluding her and her friends for weeks. But tonight, her mind wouldn't focus. Every word blurred together, every thought derailed by the lingering frustration with Grayson and the swirl of confusion it left.

She sighed pushing away from her desk, deciding she needed to sleep.

Changing into a loose t-shirt and shorts, she moved through the small, familiar motions of her nightly routine, before she slipped into bed, pulling the covers up and letting out a slow breath as she sank into the mattress. Just as she was about to turn off her bedside lamp, a faint tapping sound echoed through her room.

Her brows furrowed as she sat up, listening. Another tap—so light it could've been mistaken for a branch against the window. She glanced toward the source.

Grayson stood there, his face pale and bruised, she couldn't tell if it was fresh bruises or the ones he had received from fighting with Pyke and his group. But she knew the faint shadow of dried blood beneath his nose, was new.

"Grayson," she whispered, unlatching the window and sliding it open.

He gave her a faint smile, though it didn't reach his eyes. "Can I come in?"

She stepped aside immediately, helping him climb through the window. Once inside, she took a better look at him, her heart aching. She grabbed his wrist, leading him to sit on the edge of her bed.

"You should never have gone back there," She knelt in front of him, inspecting the damage. "You know what happens every time."

"Forget about that," Grayson said, his voice quiet but firm.

Her hands froze on his arm as he reached out, taking them gently in his. His thumbs brushed over her knuckles, his touch light.

"There's something I need to tell you,"He said, his voice quiet.

Her brows knit together, her concern deepening. "Of course. Anything."

He lifted his gaze to meet hers, his gray eyes soft but filled with something she hadn't seen before. He hesitated for only a moment before the words spilled out.

"I'm in love with you, Oz."

Her breath hitched, her chest tightening as shock spread across her face.

"I have been for so long that I can't remember a time when I wasn't," he continued, his grip on her hands tightening ever so slightly.

Her mouth parted, but no words came out. She felt like the ground beneath her had shifted, like she was teetering on the edge of something she didn't know how to face.

"Grayson," she finally managed, her voice beginning to shake, "what are you doing?"

"I'm telling you how I feel, finally," he said, his tone steady but his expression vulnerable. "I can't keep it in anymore, Oz. I need you to know—before it's too late. Before you decide to move on to someone else."

"Grayson," she said again, trying to stop him, but he shook his head, refusing to let her interrupt.

"Don't go back to Pyke," his voice was raw. He paused, exhaling shakily. "Not when there's a chance for something else. For us."

She pulled her hands away, standing abruptly as her mind raced. Her heart ached at his confession, at the vulnerability he had laid bare.

"Grayson, I—" She stopped, turning away as tears pricked at her eyes. She cared for him deeply—more than she wanted to admit. If she let herself, she could see herself falling madly in love with him. But the past had its claws do deep in her. Pyke still had her heart, even if she didn't want him to. And what scared her most was the thought of losing Grayson—not just as a friend, but as the one constant in her life. If they crossed this line and it went wrong, she didn't know if she'd survive it.

"You're going to change everything Gray," she finally said, her voice barely audible. "You mean so much to me. I can't lose you. And if this—if we—"

"You won't lose me," he said quickly, stepping closer. "I'm here, Oz. I've always been here."

She looked up at him. "But I can't give you what you want—not yet, I'm a mess right now. And it's not fair to you."

His expression faltered, the disappointment clear in the set of his jaw.

"So, the 'it's not you, it's me' speech," he laughed bitterly.

"But it's true,"

He nodded slowly. I get it," he said after a long pause. "I don't like it, but I get it."

She reached for his hand, squeezing it tightly. "I don't want to hurt you. You're one of the best things in my life."

He gave her a small, sad smile. "And you're everything in mine." He let her hand slip from his, stepping back toward the window. "I should go," he said quietly.

"Grayson, please don't go back home, you can stay here,"

His shoulders stiffened, as he turned back to her. "You're only asking me to stay because you pity me. Not because you want me to."

"That's not true," she said quickly, stepping toward him. "I want you here, Gray. I always want you here."

He let out a humorless laugh, shaking his head. "As what? A friend? A brother? A distant cousin you feel obligated to check in on?" he asked searching her eyes for something—anything—that could make him believe otherwise.

She hesitated for a split second before reaching for his arm, her grip firm and warm. "As someone I love dearly and don't want to see hurt,"

His eyes softened, though the tension in his posture didn't ease entirely. "Love," he repeated quietly, almost to himself. "You throw that word around like it doesn't mean anything. But it does, Oz. It means everything."

"I know it does," she whispered. "And I'm not throwing it around. I mean it, Gray. I love you in ways I don't even know how to explain. But right now,"

"You're a mess," he finished for her. "I get it,"

"I don't want to drag you down into this mess with me."

"Maybe I want to be there with you," he said, stepping closer to her. "Maybe I don't care how messy it gets, as long as I'm with you."

She squeezed his arm tighter, feeling his words settle deep in her chest. "But you deserve more than that. not someone who's still trying to piece herself back together." She reached for him again, but he took a step back, everything she said seeming as just an excuse to mot be with him.

"It's okay, you don't have to explain further," he said, with a strained voice. "I'll stay tonight. But only because we should start early on the clue tomorrow,"

With that, he turned and walked down the hallway toward the couch, leaving her standing alone in her room.

She wanted to call him back, to say something—anything—that would fix this rift between them. But the words wouldn't come.

Instead, she sank down onto the edge of the bed, her head in her hands. Her heart a mess of emotions she couldn't untangle. She wanted so badly to let him in, but the fear kept her rooted in place.