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“Because it’s not your problem,” I bite out. “Because I’m not… I’m not your responsibility, and I’m definitely not something you get to fix.”

His expression hardens. “I already fixed it.”

“What?”

“The test,” he says flatly. “I swapped it.”

For a second, I genuinely don’t understand. My brain lags, struggling to catch up. “You what?”

“I took yours,” he says. “Put mine in its place, you passed.”

The world tilts harder this time. His jaw tightens, gaze sweeping over my face. “Pupils dilated, unstable posture, delayed response, agitation and fast heartbeat…” He’s disgusted. “How much, Mireya?”

I don’t like this, the way he looks at me…it’s the same one people get when they stop seeing you as a person and start seeing the damage like it’s the only thing written all over your face.

“Don’t do that,” I whisper.

“Answer the question. I can’t do that again, Mireya…” his voice is soft, and hurt, and it ruins me all over again. “I’ve already watched someone choose poison over themselves.”

“Damien, don’t⁠—”

His voice lowers when he asks, “How much did you take?”

The breath coming out of my mouth sounds like a laugh. “Do I get points if I tell the truth?”

“You failed a drug test today, disappeared, and now I find you like this. You don’t get sarcasm. You answer.”

I smile anyway, trying to get Blue out of where he’s hiding. Anything to not make me stare at him and see the disappointment and fear in his eyes.

“I didn’t ask you to come here.”

“No,” he agrees. “You didn’t. And that’s exactly the problem.”

“You went through my test,” I say, angrier this time. He’s putting himself in danger. Again. Because I can’t fucking control my brain, my needs, my stupid pain. “That’s not your place⁠—”

“I am your principal instructor,” he cuts in. “Everything that concerns you is my fucking place.”

I freeze. God, I hate when he does that, when he pulls rank like it’s nothing, like it doesn’t rearrange the dynamic between us.

“You don’t get to control this,” I say, quieter now.

“No,” he agrees again. “I get to intervene.”

Before I can react, he steps forward and grabs my hand, forcing me to stay there so I can’t look anywhere but at him. “Focus,” he orders.

My breath stutters and his grip isn’t gentle, but it’s not cruel either. “You can’t, you can’t do that.” I shake my head, stumbling back a step. “That’s… if they find out⁠—”

“I don’t care.”

“Yes, you do,” I snapped. “You have to. This is your career, everything you’ve built for years, Damien!”

“I said I don’t care.” He steps closer again. “If it’s between that and you ruining your life over this, I don’t care.”

I stare at him, something in my chest twists so hard it hurts. “That’s not romantic,” I whisper. “That’s stupid.”

“Then, I’m fucking stupid,” he shoots back.

“You’re going to lose everything,” I whisper, hiding my eyes with my palms. “I can’t be the reason why you’re risking everything.”