The sound of glass shattering would've been less annoying than this.
Her laugh. Again.
I clenched the glass in my hand tighter, jaw locked, eyes fixed on the two sitting across the table. Eva and Victor. Laughing. Again.
As if they'd known each other for years. As if there wasn't a gaping hole forming between us. One she didn't even notice.
Xavier sat beside me, talking—probably about the patrol reports or border updates—but the words were all a blur. All I could hear was her voice, soft and sweet, joking with him. Her eyes sparkled, her hand brushing Victor's arm as she laughed at something he'd said.
The glass in my grip creaked. My knuckles whitened. I hadn't even touched my food.
Victor leaned in and whispered something to her. She laughed harder.
Snap.
The glass cracked in my hand, sharp edges biting into my skin. A drop of blood slid down my wrist. No one noticed. Not even her.
Xavier paused his report. "Damien?"
I didn't respond.
