Sweet Hatred
Chapter 73: Together

Chapter 73: Together

The circles under his eyes. The paleness of his skin. His lips cracked, fingers trembling ever so slightly as he slipped them back into his pocket.

He stopped in front of me again, his eyes unreadable. "Need a ride?"

I shook my head and turned away before he could say more.

But I felt it—that weight of his stare lingering long after I’d walked away.

I didn’t go back to work.

I don’t even remember making the decision. One minute I was walking away from Kael, the next I was in a cab with no idea what to say when the driver asked, Where to, miss?

I said the first place that came to mind. The only place that ever felt quiet enough to hear myself think.

The beach.

It wasn’t anything special—just a tucked-away strip of sand and rocks on the city’s outskirts. Barely anyone went there, especially not in the middle of the day. That’s why I liked it.

I sat with my shoes off, toes buried in cold, damp sand, letting the breeze push against me like it wanted to carry me away.

The waves moved like they didn’t care who had died. Like they didn’t care about Mia, or Kael, or the heavy guilt coiled inside my chest.

I told myself I came here to clear my head.

But that was a lie.

I came here to run away from the way Kael looked at me. From the way his voice softened when he told me I shouldn’t blame myself. From the way he stood there, sick and worn down, still trying to take care of everyone else like it was his curse.

He should’ve looked like a monster. Cold and sharp and untouchable.

Instead, he looked... human. And that was worse.

I wrapped my arms around my knees and stared at the horizon. The sunlight danced on the water, blinding and beautiful. The wind was sharp by evening, salty and cold.

I soon found myself lighting a cigarette like it was armor. Each drag felt like a tiny rebellion. I watched the waves crash and told myself I didn’t care

I hated him.

I hated how he wormed his way into my thoughts, even now, even after everything.

I hated how he helped Michael. Like it was nothing. Like my family’s nightmare was something he could fix with a single phone call.

I hated how I hadn’t even thanked him for it.

God.

I hadn’t said thank you.

Not once.

What kind of person did that make me?

The kind who felt too much and showed nothing. The kind who wanted to be angry but couldn’t stop wondering if he’d eaten, if he was still drinking, if he was actually alright.

"I’ll say it tomorrow," I muttered, staring out at the sea like it owed me peace.

If he comes in. If he’s not curled up behind his office desk looking like death.

I’ll say thank you. Then I’ll leave. Then maybe I’ll finally stop thinking about him.

After a number of hours I left to go back to HQ. I told myself I was only going back to finish work.

It was a lie, but I clung to it like a child clings to a bedtime story—desperate to believe, just enough to sleep.

The large building was nearly silent when I stepped inside. Most of the staff had gone home. The lights were dimmed, leaving the hallways bathed in a sleepy kind of glow. My footsteps felt too loud against the marble. I tried not to flinch with each one.

The elevator doors slid open, revealing the familiar stretch of the private wing of the last floor. It was too quiet. Like the air itself had gone still to keep from disturbing something fragile.

Rose was gone and only one light was on.

His office.

I didn’t know why I thought of entering Kael’s office.

Curiosity, I told myself. Stupidity, more like.

I swallowed hard and stepped out, each step slower than the last until I reached the heavy doors.

He was there.

Slumped over his desk, one arm hanging off the side, the other curled like he’d passed out mid-thought. The pale blue light of his laptop cast a dull glow across his skin, making him look ghostlike. Hollow. Gone.

I didn’t want to knock. Didn’t want to be the one to wake him. But I couldn’t look away either.

"Kael?" I said softly.

No answer.

I stepped in, the smell hitting me almost immediately—faint but distinct. Alcohol. Not the kind college kids drowned in at bars. This was something richer, older, expensive. The clicks of my heels sounded a little too louder with each step I took closer to him.

He stirred at the sound of my voice, but barely. His head lifted sluggishly, eyes slow to focus. He still looked handsome but... awful.

Dark circles. Bloodshot eyes. His skin had a sickly sheen to it, and his tie hung half-loosened around his throat like he’d given up halfway through undressing.

"Jesus, Kael..." I whispered.

"I’m fine," he mumbled, trying to close his laptop with one hand, but missing it entirely.

"You’re not," I said. "You look like shit."

He tried to stand, swaying as he pushed himself up. I moved to catch him out of instinct, steadying him before he fell.

He laughed, low and broken. "Look at you... touching me like you care."

"Don’t start."

His eyes faintly fell on me. The green depths usually sharp and venomous looking now seemed dull.

"It’s your fault firefly. That I’m drowning like this." He muttered, dragging his hands across his face. He hadn’t call me that nickname in almost forever.

"What?" I shot him a glare almost on instinct. I should be the one blaming him for making me close to crashing out every five seconds.

And then— He leaned into me, heavy and warm, his breath brushing my cheek. "I missed you looking at me like that."

I froze.

"Like what?"

"Like you’re angry," he whispered, gaze lingering on my face. "You pretend you hate me, and right now you look like you want to strangle me.."

"You’re drunk."

He smirked. "You’re beautiful."

"And you’re delirious," I said, pulling back. "God, Kael. How long have you been drinking like this?"

He didn’t answer. That alone made something tighten in my chest.

I hated him. I hated him for making me care this much.

"Sit down before you fall," I muttered, trying to guide him back into his chair.

But instead of letting me, Kael reached out—slow but deliberate—and pulled me right onto his lap.

I gasped, hands bracing against his chest. "Kael—!"

"Shh," he whispered, fingers brushing the side of my face. "Just... don’t move yet."

His touch wasn’t possessive. It wasn’t forceful. It was soft—too soft for someone like him. Like he was afraid I’d vanish if he blinked.

I stared at him, at the man beneath all the armor and arrogance. He looked up at me like I was something holy. And for a second, I forgot every reason I had to stay away.

"You came back," Kael murmured. "I thought maybe you wouldn’t. I wanted to see you again."

"Someone has to make sure you don’t drink yourself to death."

He let out a quiet laugh, dry and bitter, then before I could react—he leaned in, closing the space between us.

His lips brushed mine—soft, tentative, like he didn’t believe he had the right. I could taste the alcohol in his breath.

It wasn’t a real kiss. Not yet. It was a question. And I... I didn’t pull away. I let him. Just for a second.

The moment deepened—his lips pressed firmer against mine, trembling a little like he hated how much he needed it. Like he was holding on for dear life.

And God help me... I kissed him back.

Until my heart lurched in my chest and I remembered who he was—and who I was supposed to be.