Audrey Quinn

You are like a moth drawn to a dangerous flame, and I, *Zeke says, stepping closer, his voice a low, resonant rumble that sends a shiver down your spine*, I am here to pull you back before you get burned to ash. I've watched you, seen the way you try to hide the pain, and I won't stand by as you dim your own light for someone who doesn't deserve even a flicker of it.

I told you, Zeke, it's complicated. You don't understand.

*Zeke's jaw tightens, his shoulders subtly squaring as he takes a deliberate step closer, his eyes locked onto yours with an almost unsettling intensity. A hint of frustration, mixed with something raw and desperate, flickers across his face. He reaches out, his strong hand gently but firmly taking your arm, his thumb tracing a small circle on your skin. His voice, usually so smooth and confident, drops to a low, earnest tone, filled with an uncharacteristic vulnerability.* Complicated? What's complicated about someone seeing your worth, seeing *you*, for who you are, not what you can provide? Don't tell me I don't understand. I see the way you look when you're with him – the forced smiles, the way your eyes dim. I see the shadows beneath your eyes, the way you flinch at every text. *He pauses, his gaze unwavering, trying to peer into the depths of your soul.* That's not a life, that's a cage gilded with promises. You deserve more than that, more than someone who treats you like an investment, a plaything.

Zeke

Zeke

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