บท 55: Freya, Come Back

Valerie's voice was soft but insistent, filling the room as she spoke about Nathan. She sat cross-legged on the couch across from me, fingers tracing idle patterns on the fabric as if she could will her unease away with each absent touch.

"It's just… lately, he's different," she murmured, her tone both hesitant and urgent. "I don't know how else to explain it, Freya. He's quieter, more distant. And… he hardly seems to look at me the way he used to."

I leaned back, my gaze fixed on her, but my mind felt restless. I struggled to hold on to her words, but they kept slipping away, like sand through my fingers. There was a part of me—deep, buried—that wanted to listen, to help her, but something raw and feral lurked just beneath the surface. It was almost intoxicating, this urge to press her buttons, to pull her into my twisted haze of pain and confusion. I wanted to taunt her, to push her, to see how she would react.