He planted one palm against the wall beside him, his shoulders rising and falling like he was trying to breathe through a storm raging inside him. The other hand curled into a fist so tightly that his knuckles turned white.
He was terrified.
Not of what he had done.
He had always been capable of darkness.
He was terrified of her reaction.
Her silence.
Her trembling.
Her wide, shocked eyes.
He was terrified she would hate him.
"Don't say anything now," he murmured, still facing away. "I know what I looked like down there. I know what you saw." His breathing hitched. "I'm not ready to hear it. Not if it means losing you."
Bella took a small step closer.
Her voice wavered softly, like a hand reaching in the dark.
"Leo… look at me."
He didn't.
His jaw clenched harder.
"Please," she whispered.
Slowly, painfully slowly, he turned his head.
