Jessica had been hanging around most of the afternoon, filling the sterile air of the hospital room with light chatter, vending machine snacks, and an endless stream of half-jokes that didn't always land. She was trying—he knew that—but there was a quiet weight behind her energy, like she was waiting for something.
Eventually, as the shadows from the window stretched longer across the tile floor, she grew quieter. Her fingers fidgeted with the edge of her hoodie, and after a long silence, she glanced over at him.
"You know," she said carefully, "the Spring Dance is coming up."
Aiden gave a soft, noncommittal grunt.
"If you're out by then, I thought… maybe you and I could go? Just as friends." Her voice was light, too casual to be real. "It'd be fun. Just something normal, after all this chaos."
He didn't answer at first. Just stared at the wall. Then, without looking at her, he said flatly, "I don't do dances."
She blinked. "Okay. I mean, that's fine, but—"
"And I'm not looking to be anyone's anything right now," he added, sharper than he meant to. "I've had enough of people wanting things from me."
Jessica was silent. The smile she'd been holding onto slipped, just slightly. "I wasn't asking for a relationship, Aiden. I was just—"
He turned to her, eyes hard. "You were hoping for something. Don't pretend otherwise."
That shut her down.
For a second, all the shine drained from her face. Her lips parted like she might argue, but the words didn't come. Instead, she swallowed, nodded once—too quickly—and stood up.
"Got it," she said, voice thin.
Aiden looked away, jaw tight, breath shallow from the weight of it. But he didn't stop her when she walked to the door.
She paused before leaving. "For what it's worth… You might push people away, but some of us still care. Even if you don't want us to."
Then she was gone.
And the silence that followed felt colder than the IV drip in his arm.
{Seconds later…]
The door clicked shut behind her, and silence settled over the room like a weight.
But inside Aiden, something darker stirred, whispering in the shadows of his mind.
You don't deserve her.
You're broken. Dangerous.
Letting her in will only bring pain—yours and hers.
He clenched his fists under the thin hospital blanket, the ache in his ribs nothing compared to the ache inside.
Why do you even try? The voice hissed, cold and relentless. No one sticks around for a ghost. No one wants a soul with claws.
He swallowed hard. The words he'd just spoken to Jessica—they felt like a knife. But the voice inside didn't care.
Good. Keep them all at arm's length. It's safer that way. Safer for everyone.
He wanted to say he was sorry, but even that felt like a lie. Because this—this-this barrier, this shield, was all he had left to protect himself.
You don't get to have what normal kids do. Love, hope, second chances. Not with this darkness eating you alive.
Aiden's breath caught. The room felt colder now, the thin hospital walls closing in.
And when does it wake? When does it claw at your sanity?
You think you can protect anyone then?
He didn't have an answer. Only the hard truth settled like ash in his chest.
You shut her down because you had to. Because you're already lost.
And maybe that was the cruelest part—he wasn't sure if he hated the voice inside him, or if he feared it might be the only thing keeping him alive.