Unbeknownst to their parents, Violet and Cole had a clandestine 9-month relationship before parting ways following Cole's injury, courtesy of Paige. Despite the messy breakup, Violet managed to maintain a positive connection with the Walters, except...
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The bass of the party thudded through the floorboards, lights flickering across the crowded room, but all Violet could focus on was him. Cole. Standing there at the threshold like a ghost returned—broad shoulders leaning on the doorframe, hood pulled low, his face thinner, paler than when she'd last seen him. Summer had hollowed him out. Rehab had swallowed him whole and spat him back into Silver Falls a little quieter, a little heavier.
Violet didn't think. She just moved.
She pushed through the crowd until she was in his arms, her lips crashing against his before he could even catch his balance. He staggered back a step, his arm tightening around her waist despite the twinge of his injury. His mouth tasted sharp and bitter—alcohol, unmistakable—and Violet's stomach twisted.
She pulled back just enough to whisper against his lips. "You okay?"
His smile was small, shaky, but he pressed another kiss to her mouth like he could convince them both with the touch alone. "I'm okay," he murmured, though the way his head lolled back against the wall made her doubt it instantly.
Her brows pinched, searching his eyes. "Are you sure?"
He nodded, a little too quickly. "Yeah, Vi." His voice was steady, but his body wasn't. He leaned heavily on the wall, like it was holding him up more than he'd admit.
She forced herself to smile, even though worry clawed at her chest. "Okay. Are you sure you even want to be here?"
He let out a laugh that didn't quite reach his eyes. "We won't be staying long," he promised, his hand brushing over hers in a quiet reassurance that felt both fleeting and desperate.
Violet nodded, but she kept her eyes on him, watching every crack in his façade, every shadow he tried to hide. She wasn't fooled, but she wanted to believe him. Needed to.
When Paige had announced this was the farewell-to-summer party, Violet hadn't expected Cole to actually show. No one had. Whispers rippled through the crowd as he walked in, whispers about the boy who'd been gone all summer, about his injury, about rehab. But when Violet had jumped into his arms, when he'd caught her without hesitation, all that noise faded. For one small moment, it was just them.
He pressed his forehead to hers, his breath warm and unsteady. "I missed you."
Her chest ached, her smile softening. "Did you?"
"Mhm," he hummed, his thumb brushing along her jaw, rough but careful. "Nothing and no one else in this shitty town. Just you."
Something in his voice made her throat tighten—like she was the last light he was clinging to, the only anchor in a storm he hadn't yet escaped.
"Just me," she repeated, her smile tender as she cupped his face. "Aren't I the luckiest girl?"
But even as she said it, she tasted the alcohol lingering on his lips, and somewhere deep down, a quiet unease settled into her chest. He kissed her then, slow and deep, his thumb pressing under her jaw, and for a heartbeat, it felt like the world had righted itself. Like the summer hadn't happened. Like nothing could break them.
