The Keys to freedom

Withered

As they made their way up the path to his house, the gravel crunching beneath their shoes, Pyke moved ahead to open the door for her. Oz offered a curt nod in thanks and stepped inside.

Without waiting, she kicked off the heels and made a beeline for the stairs, eager to peel herself out of the formal gown that suddenly felt suffocating.

"I'll be right back," she said over her shoulder.

Pyke watched her disappear up the stairs, hands slipping into his pockets nervously as he waited.

A few minutes later, she came back down the staircase, pulling her hair into a messy bun and back in the clothes she'd worn earlier—a long-sleeve T-shirt and a pair of worn jeans that hugged her figure in all the right ways.

She threw her arms out slightly, gesturing to herself with a dry smile.

"Back to boring old me," she said.

He leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed loosely over his chest. His eyes roamed over her.

"I like this version better," he said, a genuine smile breaking through. "And there's never been a damn thing boring about you, Oz."

She blinked, caught a little off guard by the sincerity in his voice.

She cleared her throat. "Well, I better get going," she said, shifting awkwardly.

Pyke nodded, pushing off the doorframe. "I'll walk you out."

He opened the door for her, and she smiled faintly as she passed through, the cool night air brushing against her skin. He followed closely behind, his hands tucked deep into his pockets.

They made their way down the steps and across the driveway, the only sound being the faint chirp of crickets in the distance.

"So," he said, glancing sideways at her, "was it awful?"

She gave him a puzzled look. "What, the party?"

"No," he said, smirking. "Spending a whole evening with me."

Oz laughed under her breath. "Honestly, I've had worse evenings," she said, flashing him a teasing smile.

He chuckled, bumping his shoulder lightly against hers. "I'll take it. Highest compliment I've gotten in weeks."

They reached her bike, leaning where she'd left it against the fence. For a second, she hesitated, gripping the handlebars but not climbing on.

They stood there in silence for a beat. The wind tugged at her hair, and she dree a deep breath suddenly aware of how close he was.

"Thank you again, for coming," he said softly.

She nodded, then looked up at him. "We're even now, right?"

He hesitated, a small frown on his lips. "I didn't give you the money expecting anything in return," he said quietly. "You know that... right?"

"I know," she replied, her eyes retreating to the ground

He studied her for a moment, his expression earnest, almost pained. "I'd give you anything, Oz," he murmured. "Everything."

She swallowed hard, her throat tightening. "I know that too."

The space between them seemed to shrink without either of them moving.

"Do you?" he asked softly.

She looked back up at him, feeling the truth of it pulse in every nerve of her body. She knew how much he loved her. Still loved her. She could see it in the way he looked at her, in the way he never stopped hoping for them—even when she pretended not to notice.