Chapter 3 The Marked Moment
Casey POV
I wake up already exhausted it feels like I did not sleep at all even though I know I passed out sometime after two in the morning. My ribs ache when I roll onto my side and the dull pain in my stomach reminds me that I skipped dinner again. I stare at the ceiling of my dorm room for a long moment and consider not getting up but missing class is not an option.
I sit up slowly and press my hand against my side testing the pain it is manageable everything is always manageable.
Olivia, my roommate is still asleep her headphones slightly crooked over her ears. I move quietly so I do not wake her she does not ask many questions and I am grateful for that I splash cold water on my face in the communal bathroom and stare at myself in the mirror pale and dark circles under my eyes. I look smaller than I did last week.
I pull on my hoodie and head toward my morning lecture the campus feels brighter than usual almost too bright. My head throbs slightly as I cross the yard I tell myself it is just lack of sleep I will eat later I always say that by the time I sit down in the lecture hall my hands are colder than they should be. I tuck them into my sleeves and focus on the professor’s voice.
Ten minutes in my vision blurs slightly and I blink hard. The words on the board swim I straighten in my seat and force myself to breathe slowly. I have felt lightheaded before and it always passes.
Someone slides into the seat beside me I do not need to look to know who it is.
Chris.
I can feel the shift in the room when he arrives people notice him without meaning to he does not say anything at first he just drops his bag down and opens his notebook and I keep my eyes forward.
The professor continues talking about economic systems but the words are starting to sound distant my stomach twists painfully I should have eaten something anything. I grip the edge of the desk and focus on staying upright. “Are you okay?” Chris asks quietly.
The question feels louder than it should. “I’m fine,” I answer automatically.
He does not respond but I can feel him looking at me my hearing dulls slightly, the room feels warmer and too warm I try to take a breath but it comes shallow. The professor’s voice fades into a low hum the lights above me blur I blink again harder this time.
The edges of my vision darken I reach for my bag thinking maybe I can stand up and leave before anyone notices the floor tilts and then everything drops.
I do not hit the ground because strong hands catch me before I fall out of the chair the room erupts into noise.
“Whoa, careful.”
“Shit.”
“Call someone.”
I try to focus but everything feels heavy.
“Casey.”
His voice is right next to my ear.
Chris.
I realize I am not on the floor I am half across him my body supported against his chest as he steadies me. My head spins. “I’m fine,” I try to say but the words come out weak.
“You are not fine,” he says firmly. He stands carefully keeping one arm around my back and the other at my waist to hold me upright.
My hand grips the front of his shirt without thinking the fabric is warm and the professor is saying something about calling campus medical.
“I’ve got her,” Chris says.
The authority in his voice shuts down further debate he guides me out of the row and into the aisle. My legs feel unreliable, like they are not fully connected to me.
“Can you walk?” he asks quietly.
“Yes.”
I try to step forward but my knees buckle immediately he catches me again before I can drop.
“Okay,” he mutters. Without asking permission he slides one arm securely around my waist and lifts me slightly so more of my weight rests against him his hand settles firmly at my side right against my ribs making me flinch.
His grip tightens instinctively to steady me and the pressure makes my breath catch.
“Did I hurt you?” he asks immediately.
“No,” I lie.
We step into the hallway the cooler air helps slightly but my head still feels light. “You didn’t eat,” he says.
It is not a guess. “I did.”
He stops walking his hand is still at my waist holding me upright. “You are a terrible liar.”
I look away. “I’m fine.”
“You passed out.”
“I was just dizzy.”
He studies my face like he is trying to decide how hard to push. “You are shaking,” he says quietly.
I realize he is right my hands are trembling he hallway is mostly empty now classes in session it is just us and the distant echo of footsteps.
He shifts his grip slightly his palm flattening against the small of my back to support me better the contact sends a strange rush through me that has nothing to do with dizziness.
His body is solid, warm and steady I have not been held like this in years the realization makes my chest tighten.
“Let me take you to the infirmary,” he says.
“No.”
The word comes out too fast and his eyes narrow. “Why not?”
“Because I don’t need it.”
“You fainted.”
“I’m fine now.”
I try to step away from him my legs wobble again his hand slides back to my waist automatically holding me in place this time he does not ask permission he just steadies me and for a second neither of us moves we are too close his face is inches from mine his gray eyes locked on my blue ones his hand is still firm at my waist thumb pressing lightly against my side to keep me balanced.
My pulse spikes. “I don’t need a hospital,” I say more quietly.
He searches my face. “Then you need food.”
I hesitate. “I will eat later.”
He lets out a slow breath like he is running out of patience. “You are not good at taking care of yourself.”
“I don’t need you to.”
The words come out sharper than I intended his expression shifts not angry but hurt making something in my chest twists at that.
“I’m not trying to control you,” he says. “I’m trying to make sure you don’t collapse again.”
“I said I’m fine.”
“You’re not.”
His hand tightens slightly at my waist as if to emphasize his point the pressure is grounding and terrifying at the same time because I do not want him to let go and that is dangerous.
Footsteps echo down the hallway I do not need to turn to know who it is.
Rebecca.
Her heels click sharply against the tile she rounds the corner and stops dead when she sees us her eyes drop immediately to where his hand is holding me at my waist his fingers spread wide keeping me upright.
Her expression changes in an instant. “Chris,” she says slowly.
He does not release me immediately he looks at her then back at me. “She fainted,” he says evenly.
Rebecca’s gaze flicks to my face then back to his hand. “And you had to hold her like that?” she asks sweetly.
“She couldn’t stand.”
“I’m fine now,” I say quickly, trying to step back.
Chris does not move his hand right away and Rebecca notices her jaw tightens. “I’ll take care of her,” she says.
“I’ve got it,” Chris replies.
The words hang in the air Rebecca blinks once. “You’ve got it?” she repeats her voice still calm but sharp underneath.
He finally lowers his hand from my waist but the heat of his touch lingers. “Yes,” he says.
Rebecca steps closer her smile tight and controlled. “You don’t need to rescue everyone, Chris,” she says softly. “Especially not her.”
My stomach drops and his jaw hardens. “She passed out,” he repeats.
Rebecca’s eyes lock on mine. “Did you?” she asks lightly.
“Yes.”
“Maybe you should eat,” she says sweetly. “Or maybe stop trying so hard to get attention.”
The words hit harder than they should. Chris turns fully toward her. “That’s not what happened.”
Rebecca looks at him like she cannot believe he is arguing. “She works so hard for sympathy,” Rebecca continues, ignoring him. “It’s exhausting.”
“I don’t want sympathy,” I say quietly.
Rebecca smiles. “Then stop clinging to my boyfriend.”
The hallway goes silent I feel heat crawl up my neck. “I wasn’t—”
“I saw his hand,” she says softly. “Didn’t you?”
Her gaze challenges him now he does not answer immediately and that hesitation is everything and Rebecca sees it.
Her expression changes this is no longer about me fainting this is about something else something worse. Chris steps slightly closer to me again without thinking the movement is small but it is enough.
Rebecca’s eyes darken. “Are you serious right now?” she asks him.
He looks at her steadily. “She almost hit the floor.”
“And you caught her,” Rebecca says. “How heroic.”
There is no humor in her voice the tension between them tightens and I realize something with a sharp twist of fear this is not about embarrassment this is about territory. Rebecca takes another step forward. “So tell me,” she says softly to him. “Were you just being helpful?”
Her gaze flicks between us. “Or was this something else?”
The question hangs heavy in the hallway but Chris does not look away and for the first time I see doubt in Rebecca’s eyes because he does not step back from me, he does not deny it fast enough and she sees exactly what I see.
His hand might have dropped from my waist but he did not want to let go.
