65 – The Line Between Love and Hate

Alexander barely registered the knock at the door before it burst open. He knew it would be her. He had felt her presence long before she arrived, like a storm brewing just beyond the horizon. He didn't turn, didn't acknowledge her immediately. He kept his back to her, staring at the blood-stained bandages wrapped around his hands.

"Get out, Eve." His voice was quiet but edged with warning.

She ignored it. Of course, she did. She always did. "No."

The sound of her defiance sent a sharp pang through his chest. He clenched his fists, knuckles white. "I mean it."

"So do I."

Finally, he turned to face her, and the moment their eyes met, the weight of everything they had been avoiding came crashing down. Eve stood with her arms crossed, but there was fire in her stance, in the set of her jaw. She wasn't afraid of him. She never had been. And that terrified him more than anything.

The Breaking Point

"Why are you here?" he demanded, stepping toward her.

She didn't flinch. "Because I'm not going to stand by and watch you destroy yourself."

He let out a bitter laugh, running a hand through his hair. "That's rich, coming from you. After everything I've done."

Eve took another step closer, voice shaking with emotion. "You think I don't know what you've done? I've seen the blood on your hands, Alexander. But I've also seen the man beneath it."

He shook his head, something dark flashing in his eyes. "That man is dead."

"Bullshit." Her voice cracked, but she held firm. "You're still fighting like he's alive."

Something inside him snapped. In an instant, he had her against the wall, his hands caging her in. His breath came in ragged pulls, his pulse pounding like war drums. "You should hate me," he growled. "It would be easier."

Eve's eyes burned with something fierce, something unshakable. "I don't do easy."

His grip tightened for a fraction of a second before he let go, stepping back as if burned. "Then you're a fool."

The Fall

The silence between them stretched, thick with unspoken words, with everything they had been holding back for far too long.

Eve finally moved, her hands reaching for him, but he jerked away. "Don't."

"Why?" she demanded. "Because if I touch you, you'll break?"

His eyes flickered with something raw. "Because if you touch me, I won't be able to stop."

And then she did. She reached out, fingers grazing the bruises on his face, the scars littering his body. Alexander sucked in a sharp breath, the contact unraveling him. He felt himself slipping, falling, drowning.

"I'm not afraid of your darkness," she whispered.

His hands found her waist, pulling her closer even as every instinct screamed at him to let go. "You should be."

Eve tilted her chin up, eyes searching his. "I love you, Alexander."

He shattered. His lips crashed against hers, the kiss desperate, consuming, a battle in itself. There was no softness, no hesitation—only fire and fury, love and hate tangled into something neither of them could control.

They broke apart, breathless, foreheads pressed together. His voice was hoarse when he finally spoke. "I've spent my whole life fighting. I don't know how to stop."

Eve cupped his face, her thumbs brushing against the stubble on his jaw. "Then let me fight for you."

Alexander closed his eyes, exhaling shakily. For the first time in what felt like forever, he allowed himself to believe she might be right.

But war was still waiting. And the battle was far from over