Caged In His Arms

Athena’s P.O.V.

Cristoff kissed my forehead as the love song ended. It was a genuine kiss that I would crave for as long as I lived.

He even asked me if we could now go back to our seats, but I refused and only spoiled myself by hugging him tightly. For one last time, I wanted his smell to soothe my nostrils. I wanted to feel his skin and his lips so close to me.

My heart was screaming in torture, and I didn’t want to let him go. I could now feel that almost everyone was staring at us, murmuring about us, but I didn’t care anymore. I just didn’t fucking care at all!

When everyone was okay, here I was—totally disturbed. Anxiety came like a tornado in my brain that, honestly, was too painful. It was different from a simple headache, and it felt like more than an intense sorrow—a sort of panic that would make me run but would soon make me realize that I had nowhere to go.