With each creak of the floorboards under her feet the muscles in his chest tightened a little more. He didn't want her to go. He knew that. But he also didn't want to explain why she was the best person for him to talk to, that anyone he still considered a friend was also a liability. He hadn't had anyone so close to him since... since Fallon, and he couldn't think about her without his expression darkening. He stood stiffly, his breath heavy and hard as he waited for the sound of her exiting through the flames, but instead there was a long pause. Then, she spoke.

And he could have laughed. Lachlan did all sorts of destructive things when he was sad, but none of them could be described as "impulsive". It was far more rewarding to feel the pain get increasingly worse as the days passed, to be able to tell himself over and over that he was the cause of his pain and that he deserved it. That he was the one who'd killed a woman, the one that had ruined his friendships, that had lost what happiness he might have had—and now he was gong to be alone dealing with this, and so was his family because the scandal was painted across the cover page of Witch Weekly, and it was all because he'd tried to save Miss Binns when she wasn't even in danger to begin with.

He didn't say anything. He didn't even move. If he waited long enough, she would just go.

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