Lovers Have Fallen (Editing In Process)

chapter three: the unlikely lovers

"You like me," Jake repeated slowly, "and you're a witch. The daughter of the woman who killed my parents." Each word seemed to hang in the air between them.

Raven's heart hammered against her ribs. "I'm so sorry I kept it from you," she whispered, rising from her seat. "I'll give you space to—"

The rest of her sentence disappeared as Jake caught her wrist, pulling her back. Before she could process what was happening, his lips were on hers, gentle but certain. Her eyes flew wide with shock, her magic sparking beneath her skin like static electricity.

When they finally broke apart, Jake's eyes held no hatred—only a complicated mixture of emotions she couldn't quite read. "It's okay," he said softly. "We can't help who our parents are. We can only choose who we want to be."

As the school day wound down, Raven felt lighter than she had in weeks. When Jake approached her after the final bell, running his hand through his dark hair nervously, she couldn't help but smile.

"Want to come over?" he asked, his usual confidence wavering slightly. "We could talk... properly talk."

At his apartment, the tension between them shifted. Jake backed her against the wall, his breath warm against her neck. Her pulse quickened, but not entirely from desire. "Jake, wait," she managed, her voice trembling. "I'm not... I've never... We just got together."

He pulled back immediately, concern replacing desire in his eyes. "I'm sorry," he said, taking her hand instead. "We can just watch a movie?"

Relief flooded through her. They ended up on his couch, Raven wrapped in a soft blanket, Jake's arm around her shoulders. The steady rhythm of his breathing soon lulled her into sleep, her head dropping onto his lap. The last thing she felt was his fingers gently combing through her hair.

She woke to unfamiliar surroundings—Jake's bedroom, she realized, now wearing one of his t-shirts that smelled faintly of him. The shower was running in the adjacent bathroom. She padded across the room, finding her reflection in the mirror. As she brushed her teeth with a spare toothbrush she found, Raven couldn't help but smile at how domestic it all felt.

The following weeks fell into a pattern. Every weekend at Jake's place, every school day, stealing glances across classrooms. It felt almost too perfect—until that Friday afternoon.

They were on Jake's motorcycle, the wind whipping through Raven's hair. Jake glanced back at her, his smile visible even through the helmet visor. Neither of them saw the car until it was too late.

The impact was devastating. Through the haze of pain, Raven heard voices and saw flashing lights.

"Sir, what's your name?" A paramedic's voice cut through the chaos.

"Jake Hillstrike," she heard him say, his voice tight with panic. "Is she okay? Please tell me she's okay!"

"Sir, you need to stay still," another voice insisted. "We're assessing her condition."

"Multiple injuries... significant blood loss... need immediate transport..."

The voices began to fade, the world growing dim around the edges. The last thing Raven heard was Jake calling her name before everything went black.

Hours later, Jake paced the sterile hospital waiting room, his own minor injuries ignored. When the doctor finally emerged, his face was grave but not hopeless.

"She's stable," the doctor explained, "but we've induced a medical coma to give her body time to heal. The next twenty-four hours will be crucial."

Jake followed the doctor down the fluorescent-lit corridor, his heart heavy with the knowledge that Raven's magic—usually so strong—hadn't been enough to protect her from something as mundane as a car accident. Sometimes, he realized, the most dangerous things in life weren't witches or witch hunters at all.