Vivienne

"What's your name?"
"Guess."
He glanced at the lighter in my hand. Smirked, just a little. "Alright, then. Vivienne."
That made me pause. It wasn't my name. Not even close. But the way he said it, soft and deliberate, it landed like something heavier than just a guess.
"Vivienne, huh," I repeated, almost to myself. "She'd probably laugh at that."

A silver lighter passed down from a dead brother to a dead ex-girlfriend, and now it burns in Alice Shade's pocket like a secret she can't let go of.
Drowning under the weight of family trauma and impossible expectations, Alice isn't looking to be saved, but Deon Blackwell keeps showing up anyway. He's trouble, he's quiet, and he sees her in a way no one ever has.
As the nights get colder and the past comes back in smoke and silence, they strike a fragile match between pain and healing. But love, like fire, always leaves something behind.
A story about guilt, survival, and the kind of connection that feels like it might burn you alive, this is a slow, aching unraveling of two broken people trying to hold onto each other before it's too late.