Page 78 of Till Orc Do Us Part
It should be comforting.
It isn’t.
Liara pours tea into one of my chipped mugs without asking, hands it to me.
“Drink.”
I take it—warm and fragrant, laced with chamomile and some kind of citrus. Her signature blend for when I’m spiraling.
I sip because arguing will get me nowhere.
She settles across from me, sharp eyes taking in every twitch of my fingers, every tight line in my face.
“You’re brooding,” she says simply. “That’s clue number one.”
“Not brooding.”
“Sulking?”
I glare. “Liara?—”
“Fine. Broodingandsulking.” She sips her tea. “And you’re doing a shit job pretending otherwise.”
The shop creaks softly around us—wood groaning beneath the weather, the faint scent of lavender and old ink curling in the air. It’s comforting and suffocating all at once.
“I’m fine,” I mutter.
She leans forward. “Liar.”
I slam the mug down a little harder than necessary. “What do you want?”
“To keep you from self-destructing.” Her voice softens, but only a little. “You’re spiraling, Ro. And you’re pushing everyone away.”
I turn toward the rain-lashed window, throat tightening. “I told him I needed space.”
“And then you ran.”
The words slice clean through me.
I clench my jaw. “It’s safer this way.”
“For who?” she asks gently.
I say nothing.
She leans closer, voice low. “You’re not scared of losing him.”
“I don’t want toneedhim,” I say through gritted teeth.
Liara shakes her head. “You’re not scared of needing him, either.”
“Then what?”
She meets my gaze, steady and unflinching. “You’re scared he might stay.”
The words land so hard I can’t breathe for a beat.
The rain blurs the glass outside, a watery reflection of my own face staring back—tired, guarded, breaking.
