YELLOW FLICKERS

You said you've never wanted to kiss anyone more than me

My stomach drops, every nerve screaming and sparking. The memories come to life - I did that. Everything floods in, uninvited-heat curling through me, the press of his mouth, the tight grip on my waist, the hard lines of his body pinning me in place. It's like being dragged under by something I swore I'd buried.

"And you," he says softly, almost like a dare, his hand braced on the wall beside me, "you want to relive every second. Don't you?"

I try to look away, but his eyes pin me, and my pulse thrums so loud I'm sure he hears it, counts it. I can't breathe. The silence drags on, as I try to put a reply together. Before I know it, the words just..
"Impossible," I stammer, immediately the words tasting like a lie I don't even bother to dress up.

Frederika's spent a decade hiding behind promotions and a bipolar-fueled fuck-or-flight suit of armor, pretending she's fine-until the magnetic Golden Boy crashes in, demanding brutal honesty and a promise to stay. Welcome to her personal hell: cramming six to ten years of emotional growth into three fucked-up months, breaking every rule, burning every bridge, and doing whatever it takes to be loved by him-scars, chaos, and all.