Page 97 of Pack Frenzy
But I’ll fight for Rowan and for the chance to have a sliver of what we all had with Meredith.
The little bay theater is two screens and a lobby that smells like butter and bleach. Neon hums over a hand-letteredposter:The Sky Between Us—subtitles. Good. Can’t stand anime with English voice actors; it just ruins the whole vibe, and they never get the voices right either.
I pick up our four tickets I ordered earlier, center seats. Then we buy popcorn, water, and a pack of chocolate things Jess pretends she doesn’t want, but grabs after I pay.
At the counter, I slip a travel-size tissue pack into her palm.
“What’s this for?”
“Trust me, you’ll need this. It’s double-ply.” My mouth tips. “Upgraded for emotional damage control.”
She looks at me like I’ve lost my mind, but I know my anime, and this one is going to convert her to the anime world.
“Wait—this is thatcartoonthing, right?”
I freeze mid-reach for the popcorn butter pump. “Cartoon?”
Rowan groans. “Wrong word, sweetheart.”
Cassian’s grin is pure trouble. “Shit. You just called his religion a coloring book.”
Jess lifts a brow. “Big eyes, weird noises, melodrama… how serious can it be?”
“Serious enough,” I tell her. “Rowan cried atKingdom of Wings,and Cassian binge-watchedMechaSoul Requiemin one sitting.”
“Lies,” Cassian mutters. “It was two sittings.”
“Point stands.” I nudge Jess’s shoulder. “Tonight’sThe Sky Between Us.Gateway masterpiece.”
Rowan tips his head toward Jess. “Translation: he’ll be a wreck by the halfway mark.”
“Subtitles,” I correct automatically. “And yes, I will.”
She laughs, shaking her head. “You’re all insane.”
“Oh, you’ll thank me later,” I promise, handing her the popcorn. “Welcome to the conversion ceremony.”
Inside, the auditorium is mostly empty—two couples down front, a trio of teenagers whispering at the far aisle. Recliners, thank God; easy to disappear in.
Thankfully, it’s the middle of the day on a Tuesday; otherwise, this place would be packed.
Rowan takes the seat closest to the aisle, then Jess, me, and Cassian. The lights drop, and the previews stutter through.
Wind and water. A kid drawing a map of stars he can’t reach. Jess’s thigh finds mine. Not much—just contact. My body answers like I’ve been starving for it, like every nerve I’ve kept quiet is suddenly screamingyes. I keep my face neutral, breathe slowly, watch ink and color become a city.
Twenty minutes later, a joke lands. She smiles. Pretend that doesn’t put a hand around my heart.
The guardian shows up—teeth, shadow, the voice of a tired god. Jess shifts closer in the half-dark, the back of her hand resting on my leg like gravity put it there. I lower my arm to the shared rest; our fingers almost touch.
Next, the kid swears he’ll fix everything. Rowan exhales like he recognizes the type. Cassian fakes a cough.
Then her scent changes—vanilla warmed through jasmine, with a citrus spark that makes me want to bare my throat or sink my teeth in or both.
She moves first. Slow. Deliberate. Her fingers slide beneath the drape of my jacket, settle higher on my thigh. Heat through denim. Nothing obscene. Not yet.
“Okay?” I whisper, the word barely sounds.
She nods, once. Decisive.
