Page 75 of I See You

Hassan watched her, his gaze heavy, but he didn’t say anything. "What is it about the moon?" she asked again, circling back to the conversation he had yet to finish.

His jaw clenched slightly before he exhaled, the smoke mixing with the night air. "When I was a kid… four, maybe five… my parents used to argue. Loud. The type of loud that made the walls shake. Screaming, shit breaking. My pops had a gambling problem. My ma was sick of that shit. So they went at it." His voice was even, but Sevyn caught the tightness beneath it.

She handed the blunt back without a word, just letting him talk. "Iusedtositoutside.Rightonthecurb.Didn’twannahearit. Didn’t wanna be in it. So I’d just… sit. And look up." His fingers toyed with the blunt as he inhaled deeply. "Something about the moon… it was alwaysthere. Didn’t matter where I went, if I was hungry, if I was scared—the moon ain’t give a fuck. It just stayed right where it was. Quiet. Still. Big as hell, just watching."

Sevyn didn’t speak. She just listened.

He finally turned his head, his dark eyes locking onto hers, unreadable yet intense. "I'm a dark nigga, I know that shit. But the moon always shined above me, following me, like it could see the light in me."

Sevyn’s chest tightened.

"The moon is the only light you feel like is left in your life," she murmured.

His jaw ticked, but he didn’t argue. Just nodded once, turninghis attention back to the sky, like the moon had all the answers he’d never get.

Sevyn’s gaze drifted to his arm, where a full moon was tattooed on his skin, a silhouette of a boy sitting beneath it, staring up. She knew without asking—that boy was him.

They sat in silence, both of them lost in the weight of his words, in the quiet understanding settling between them.

Hassan took another pull from the blunt, his exhale slow, controlled—but saw her staring at him out the corner of his eye. "You overanalyze shit too much," he muttered, his voice low but not unkind.

Sevyn smirked. "And you under-explain shit too much."

Hassan's lips twitched, like he was fighting the urge to smile, but instead, he shook his head, tapping ashes onto the ground. The quiet stretched again, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. If anything, it felt like they had reached a new understanding, one neither of them was quite ready to name.

"Did that nigga hurt you?" Hassan’s voice sliced through the comfortable silence like a blade—cold, lethal, unforgiving.

The weight of his tone sent a shiver down Sevyn’s spine, and it had nothing to do with the cool night air. Her eyes snapped toward him, disbelief flickering across her face. She was high, but she heard him clearly.

"What?" she asked, almost as if she misheard.

Hassan turned to face her, his dark eyes locked onto hers, a mix of intensity and something softer—something that made her breath hitch. She knew exactly who and what he was talking about, but she hesitated.

"I told you, I don’t like repeating myself, Sevyn," he murmured, his tone low, calm—commanding.

She swallowed. "No, he didn’t hurt me." Her voice was soft, too soft.

Hassandidn’tbuyit.Hisjawflexed."Idon’tlikeliarseither.So why the fuck was you crying earlier?"

Sevyn exhaled, frustration laced in the breath she let out. "It’s nothing, Hassan. I’m good," she said, trying to brush it off.

His stare didn’t waver.

"Why do you care anyway?" Her tone sharpened, her emotions spilling over before she could stop them. "We’re not friends. I’m barely even your therapist since you don’t do appointments."

She regretted the words the second they left her lips.

Hassan’s jaw clenched tighter. He didn’t say a word, just exhaled through his nose before standing up, his energy shifting from cold to unreadable.

"I'm sorry, I didn’t mean—" She started to reach for him, but he was already walking inside, shutting the door behind him without another word.

Sevyn sighed, rubbing a hand over her face. She had finally started breaking through those walls of his, and in one reckless moment, she made them shoot back up. She didn’t mean to throw her emotions onto him, didn’t mean to push, but she did.

And now, he was gone.

Sevyn quickly followed him into the house, clutching his jacket like it was the last tether between them. "Hassan," she started, voice softer now, but he was already speaking.

"Forget this talking shit," he muttered, his tone clipped, final. "No,Ididn’tmeantotalktoyoulikethat."Shesteppedcloser, trying to bridge the gap, to fix what she’d just shattered. "Talking helps, Hassan." She was pleading now, trying to pull him back before he completely shut down.

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