Page 125 of Before Dawn

“You’re areallygreat guy,” she murmured, her gaze unsteady as she searched my eyes.

“Thanks, Red.”

“I m-mean it,” she insisted, her voice softer now. “You make me feel good about myself.”

Warmth spread through me at her words, unexpected but hitting deep.

“Hey,you know what?” she slurred, swirling the last remnants of her drink in her glass, watching the liquid slosh lazily.

“What, baby?”

“I think… I think you’re like… like a puzzle.” She nodded emphatically, as if she had just unraveled some profound truth. “One of those really hard ones with a thousand pieces.”

I chuckled. “And what kind of puzzle are you?”

“I’m… I’m one of the simple ones.”

“Nope.” I shook my head, studying her. “You’re more like a painting. One of those abstract ones that catches your eye, and you can’t stop thinking about it—you don’t want to stop thinking about it.”

Her brows furrowed. “That sounds complicated.”

“You’re worth it.”

Her laughter faded, replaced by something quieter, more contemplative. “You mean that?”

I swallowed hard, nodding. “I mean it.”

A beat of silence passed before she whispered, “Do I really make you see color?”

The question made me pause. Then it hit me—Alex’s words from earlier, about how I was bland before her.

Brushing a loose curl from her face, I murmured, “You are the color, Red.”

Her breath hitched, and her eyes widened slightly, like she hadn’t expected me to say something like that. But it was the truth. From the moment she walked into my life, everything was brighter, bolder—alive.

She blinked, searching my face, her heartbeat quickening against me. Then, looking down at her hands, she blurted, “I’m a chronic overthinker. I over analyze every look, every word, everything. My brain doesn’t know how to shut up sometimes, and it’s exhausting.”

I shifted closer, my voice steady. “Let me silence the voices, then.”

She froze, eyes wide, like I’d just spoken a language she didn’tunderstand.

“What?”

“I mean it.” I smiled a little, softening my tone. “If your mind won’t stop running, I’ll quiet it. I’ll be there to make sure you feel peace, even if just for a moment.”

Heat rushed to her face. “T-that’s not how it works, Mikkel.”

“Why not?” I reached for her hand, my thumb brushing over her skin. “You tell me what’s going on in your head, and I’ll take it from there. Every worry, every fear, everything.”

She gulped the remaining alcohol, her eyes glassy with tears. “I always thought I was too… intense for anyone to want to stay.”

The words hit hard. I squeezed her hands, lacing our fingers together. “They were too dull for you.”

A hesitant smile curved her lips, but uncertainty lingered. “Sometimes I feel like I’m too much… or that I burn too brightly.”

“You were, and still are, more than enough. And even if you do burn brightly—that’s okay, too.” My forehead rested against hers. “I’d rather drown in your light than live in the dark without you.”

She inhaled sharply, her fingers tightening around mine. Her lips parted like she wanted to say something, but no words came.

---