DARK CHEMISTRY
Lizzie clutched her arm where faint bruises had already started to bloom, her knuckles white as she tried to steady herself. Days had passed in a haze of exhaustion and fear—barely eating, barely sleeping, barely surviving. Her phone buzzed.
It was a message from her friend:
"Come to the wedding. Our chemistry teacher is getting married!"
Her breath caught.
Her eyes welled instantly with tears.
She couldn't think. She couldn't process.
All she knew was that she had to go.
---
The church doors loomed large as Lizzie stumbled inside, tears blurring her vision. She scanned the crowd, looking desperately for him—her Daniel.
There he was, standing at the altar, looking impossibly handsome in a tailored suit. Her heart broke all over again.
Without thinking, she bolted forward, weaving through the guests, tears spilling freely.
"Daniel! Please! Don't marry her! You don't have to do this!" she cried, her voice cracking and echoing through the hall.
The crowd gasped.
Whispers spread like wildfire.
The bride spun around, her face red with fury.
"What the hell is this stranger doing here?! Get out, you crazy—" she spat, her words laced with anger and slang.
Lizzie stumbled, overwhelmed, unable to respond. She could barely breathe.
Then suddenly, a heavy hand grabbed her arm.
Rough. Forceful. Pulling her back.
She looked up. The tough guy.
"Get your hands off me!" Lizzie sobbed, trying to resist, but his grip was iron.
"I'm taking you away from here!" he growled, dragging her down the aisle.
"No! Let me go! Please!" she screamed, crying harder than she had in weeks.
Her shoes scuffed against the polished floor, her tears wetting the hem of her dress.
He didn't slow. He didn't care about the gasps around them.
All she could do was cling to the only thing she had left: her fear, her despair, and her desperate, unrelenting hope that somehow… somehow Daniel would save her.
But for now… she was trapped in his grasp, crying, powerless, and completely at his mercy.
---
Lizzie's sobs echoed through the church as the tough guy tugged her roughly by the arm. Her hands, trembling but desperate, shot forward—and she grabbed onto Daniel's arm like her life depended on it.
"No! Daniel! Don't let him take me!" she screamed, clinging with all the strength she could muster.
The bride shrieked, pointing at her. "Get her off him! Who even are you?!"
The tough guy growled, trying to yank her away again. "Let go! You're coming with me!"
But Lizzie didn't budge. She buried her face into Daniel's chest, arms wrapped tight around him, tears streaking down her cheeks. Her body shook, but her grip didn't falter.
Daniel's eyes went sharp—dangerously sharp. His jaw tightened. The calm, composed air he normally carried snapped into something dark, protective, and unstoppable.
"You touch her again, and you'll regret it," Daniel said low, voice cutting through the stunned silence of the church.
The tough guy froze.
Daniel's hands were on Lizzie's shoulders now, steadying her, holding her like she was the most fragile, precious thing in the world. His gaze burned into the other guy.
"Let her go," Daniel repeated, his voice dropping even lower.
The tough guy's smirk faltered under the intensity of Daniel's stare. Slowly, reluctantly, he released Lizzie's arm—but not without one last dangerous glare.
Lizzie clung to Daniel even tighter, burying her face into his chest.
"I… I don't want him… anywhere near me…" she whispered, her body shaking.
Daniel's hand cupped the back of her head, fingers threading through her hair. He pressed a soft, possessive kiss to the top of her head.
"You won't have to worry about him," he murmured, voice low and protective.
"I've got you."
Her tears continued to fall, but this time there was relief mixed with them—the kind of relief only safety and his presence could bring.
Daniel didn't let go. Not now. Not ever.
---
The church buzzed with stunned whispers as Daniel's voice rang out, clear and commanding over the shocked crowd:
"The wedding is canceled."
A collective gasp swept through the hall. Guests froze, unsure if they had heard correctly. The bride's face went pale, her anger and disbelief boiling over.
"What—WHAT?!" she screamed, stomping toward him. "How dare you! You can't just—"
Daniel didn't flinch. His eyes were locked on Lizzie, and his entire presence radiated authority, danger, and something utterly unyielding.
"Back off," he said softly, but the words were like steel.
He stepped closer to Lizzie, shielding her with his body.
The bride's mouth opened again, shrieking, her heels clacking against the marble floor. "You're humiliating me! Everyone's watching! Don't you dare—"
Daniel didn't answer. He didn't need to. His mere presence, his gaze, the subtle tightening of his jaw, was enough to make the bride falter mid-step.
Lizzie clung to him, trembling, tears streaming down her face. The tough guy from before lingered at the side, scowling, but didn't dare step closer with Daniel standing there like a storm ready to strike.
Daniel's hand rested lightly on Lizzie's back, guiding her slightly closer to him. His voice, calm yet edged with something dangerous, cut through the chaos:
"I'm done listening to anyone who tries to hurt her. And that includes you."
The bride's face twisted with fury. She shouted one last time, trying to reclaim attention, but the guests around her were stunned silent. No one moved. Even the photographers paused, unsure if they should keep taking pictures.
Daniel's lips curved into a faint, cold smile—not playful, not teasing—just possessive, warning, untouchable.
Then he turned fully to Lizzie, brushing a loose strand of hair from her tear-streaked face.
"Are you okay?" he asked softly.
"I… I—I'm fine…" she whispered, voice shaking.
He pressed a gentle kiss to her temple, his hand still on her back, grounding her.
"Good," he said.
"Because no one… will ever touch you without my say again."
The bride was left screaming and gesturing, the tough guy glaring, and the entire church in stunned silence. But Lizzie didn't care about anyone else.
All she could feel was him.
Her protector.
Her secret.
Her forbidden love.
And for the first time in weeks, she felt safe.
---
The church had emptied, the echoes of gasps and whispers fading into the night. Daniel led Lizzie quietly to the balcony, away from the stunned eyes of guests, away from the chaos. The cool night air brushed against her tear-streaked cheeks as she sank to the stone ledge, hugging her knees.
She buried her face in her hands and let the sobs come, shuddering violently.
Daniel knelt beside her, wrapping one arm around her shoulders and pulling her gently against his chest. His other hand cupped her cheek, tilting her face so he could look into her eyes.
"Shh… it's okay," he murmured softly, his voice low and soothing, carrying that calm authority that always made her tremble. "Let it out. I've got you."
Lizzie pressed herself closer, trembling. "I… I thought I'd… lose you… Daniel…"
He tightened his hold, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. "You won't lose me. Ever. Do you hear me?"
"I—I'm so scared," she whispered, her voice barely audible between sobs.
"You have nothing to be scared of," he murmured. "I won't let anyone hurt you. Not him, not anyone. I'm here. Only me."
Lizzie's fingers curled into the fabric of his shirt, clutching him like a lifeline. Her tears soaked into him, and Daniel simply held her, letting her cry against him, breathing slowly so she could feel his strength.
After a while, when her sobs had quieted into soft hiccups, Daniel brushed a wet strand of hair from her face. His lips hovered near hers, just barely brushing, before he pressed a long, possessive kiss to her forehead.
"You're mine," he whispered, voice low, almost a growl.
"No one can take you from me."
Lizzie's hands tightened against him, and she whispered back, brokenly, "I… I don't want anyone else… just you."
Daniel rested his forehead against hers, eyes soft but intense. "And you'll have me. Always. But right now… just breathe, little one. Let it all out. I've got you."
The night air wrapped around them as he held her close, and for the first time in weeks, Lizzie felt a fragile, trembling sense of safety.
Her tears continued, but they were no longer just sorrow—they were relief, release, and the quiet acknowledgment of the unspoken bond between them.
---