Page 124 of The Bittersweet Bond

He stepped closer, his presence swallowing the space between them,his icy blue eyeslocking onto hers—daring her to listen.

"Because we need to talk."

Evin blinked, caught off guard by the rawness in his tone.

No excuses. No lazy smirk to hide behind. Just those words—clear and heavy, like a sentence being handed down.

Her heart pounded as she forced herself to hold his gaze. She wanted to challenge him, to make him back down first. But there was nothing in his face that wavered—only determination, steady and relentless, unraveling her composure.

"I’m cold anyway," she muttered, more to herself than to him.

She knew the moment she gave in, she would lose.

But something about him, about this goddamn night, pulled at her—like the tide, inevitable, unrelenting.

Before she could change her mind, she yanked open the passenger door and dropped into the seat, her movements sharp, almost defiant.

"Make it quick."

He hesitated—just for a second—and from the corner of her eye, she saw the slightest shift in his shoulders, as if he was silently celebrating a victory.

He didn’t say a word.

Just moved around the car with steady, deliberate steps—like he had just won a battle.

When he reached the driver’s side, the streetlights cast shadows over his face, carving hard lines around his mouth, his eyes.

And even though she wasn’t looking directly at him, she felt him.

Felt the weight of his presence filling the space between them

As if he hadn’t just taken control of the car. But of her own goddamn will.

The engine rumbled to life, slicing through the silence wrapped around them like an invisible thread.

Evin folded her arms tightly across her chest, her gaze locked onto the window. The city lights blurred past, streaks of color that felt like distorted memories.

Everything in her screamed at her to shut him out. To keep the walls up.

Andyet—

That pull was still there.

That quiet, stubborn whisper inside her that she couldn’t drown out.

__________

Evin stormed out of the car, her footsteps striking sharply against the asphalt as she put distance between them. The biting cold of the January night wrapped around her, but she barely felt it. The chill inside her chest was far worse. She held her arms tightly around her body, as if that was the only thing keeping her from breaking apart.

"Evin!" Bas slammed the driver’s side door shut, his voice slicing through the silence, but she didn’t stop. She needed to breathe, needed space, needed to put enough distance between them before the storm inside her erupted.

"What do you want?" She came to an abrupt halt, spun around, and glared at him, her eyes burning, though her voice remained cold, almost mechanical. She forced herself to stay composed, even as the anger in her veins threatened to consume her.

He closed the gap between them, his hands shoved into his pockets, as if that would somehow diffuse the tension crackling between them. "I want to know what the hell that was." His voice was calm, but his eyes betrayed him—dark, brimming with frustration, and something that looked dangerously close to disappointment.

"What that was?" Her voice turned sharp, a whisper laced with venom. "That was the moment I finally realized what a fucking game this has been for you."

"A game?" He let out a bitter laugh, shaking his head, his shoulders stiffening as if bracing himself for a fight. "You really think I’d be going through all of this if it was just a game?"

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