Page 3 of Sweet Venom

I took one more step, the gravel underfoot crunching softly, and I waited.

“Azariel?” I whispered but there’s no answer so I tried again. “Azariel?”

When the soft rustle of the roses brushed against my ears, I turned around.

And there he was.

Azariel Solonik.

Standing between the red roses, his black hair swept back just enough for me to see his face. He’s leaning against the stonewall of the garden, like he’s been waiting for me. His posture is relaxed like he doesn’t care about anything at all, but I saw the way his eyes were watching me even in the dark.

He’s watching me carefully, like he’s trying to find out all my secrets, and I wonder if he knew I thought about him all the time.

The cold wind blew my dress and caressed my skin just as cold as his stare.

Goosebumps ripple down my arms, a strange mixture of fear and something much warmer that I couldn’t name. Love? Is this love? I don’t know. The moonlight was casting shadows over his face, making his features look sharp, his eyes shining like the moon and stars above. I felt like I’m looking at an angry god or a magical creature from a faraway land, something I couldn’t quite touch, but it’s so beautiful, so distant that I couldn’t look away.

“Why are you here?” he asked, and I could hear the boredom in his voice. It’s as if he’s trying to understand why I’ve come into his place. The garden was his, wasn’t it? I’m an intruder. His quiet, moonlit world, and here I was, disturbing it. I suddenly felt small, like a tiny moth buzzing too close to a flame.

Nerves took over me and suddenly I felt anxious, making it impossible to know how to answer. I felt my hands tightening around his Valentine’s card still hidden in my pocket as if it was my only real answer. I wanted to say something, anything, but all that comes out is a soft, barely audible, “I... I just wanted to see you.” The words felt clumsy on my tongue like I’ve said something wrong, like it doesn’t even make sense. I instantly regretted it.

I took a step back, my heart beating so loud I swear he could hear it. I wanted to disappear into the darkness of the garden or run back into the warmth of the house where our families are laughing and not staring at me like I’m strange. But the moment I turned to go, I heard him say something that stopped me in my tracks.

“You don’t belong here,” he said, almost too quietly, like he’s speaking to himself. The words were cold, but they hurt somehow like they meant something more than just being told to leave. Something deeper, more personal. Rejection.

You don’t belong here…

Crack. My chest hurts.

I didn’t turn around. I couldn’t. I was too embarrassed. His cruel words settled into my chest, heavy and unfamiliar, but I could feel the sting of them. I wanted to disappear so badly. I wished I could hide behind one of the rose bushes, hide in the shadows where everything felt safer and less sad.

Mommy’s words came to me. Anyone would be lucky to be your friend…

Maybe Azariel needed a friend. He’s always alone and angry. Maybe that’s why he’s so grumpy.

Even though his words hurt, I felt something else. A flicker of warmth, something small and faint, like a pulse inside me. I looked down at the red card with his name written on the back, the one I’ve carried all night with me, too shy to give to him.

And at that moment, I decided—I couldn’t run away now.

“I’m not leaving,” I said, finally. My voice is quieter than I wanted it to be. I don’t know if it’s brave or just foolish, but it’s the only thing I managed to say. He may think I didn’t belong in his garden—his world. Maybe he was right. I may never belong, but I don’t want to leave.

I took a deep breath, then held out the Valentine’s card to him.

His eyes flicked to it, just for a moment. I watched him, holding my breath, waiting for something, anything.

He didn’t move. He didn’t reach for it. But he didn’t walk away either.

And for a second, I think I did it.

My hand trembled as I held out the card to him, the one I wrote the secrets my heart carried. I’m waiting for something, anything—a smile, a glance, even just a word. But instead, the seconds felt like hours, and I watched him, hoping that maybe this could be the moment I stopped feeling invisible and he could finally see me.

But then, he frowned.

It’s not the kind of frown that looked curious or puzzled like he was thinking or trying to understand. It’s sharp, like a knife cutting through my heart. His dark eyebrows knitted together, and his red lips pressed into a tight line like he was suddenly angry. Oh, no. I felt a knot form in my stomach, and I could feel my cheeks burning with embarrassment, the kind that made me want to shrink into the ground and disappear.

“You should go,” he said, his voice cold, colder than before. His gray eyes flicked to the card in my hand, and I swear, they darken for a moment like he’s disgusted. Ouch. “Don’t come back, Poe.”

Crack.

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