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I’m curled under the blankets, half asleep, when my phone buzzes. The blue light cuts through the dark. I rub my eyes.

Ash: Can I come see you?

I blink at the message, my heart skipping. He is hours away, with no licence. There’s no way he could get here on his own. My fingers hover over the screen, frozen between panic and excitement.

Bryn: How would you get here?

The reply comes almost instantly.

Ash: That doesn’t matter, I’ll figure it out.

My pulse jumps. Sitting up, I tug the blankets up closer to my chest.

Bryn: You don’t even have your licence and I’m hours away now …

Ash: Doesn’t matter. I’ll get there anyway, as long as you want to see me

Worry mixes with something else in my chest – excitement, hope, and anticipation.

Bryn: When?

Ash: Maybe the weekend? I have to see you

Staring at the screen, my heart hammering, I must re-read his message five times. The weekend isn’t far away, but a few days feels like an eternity. The idea that he’s willing to cross all those kilometres, rules, and obstacles just to see me makes the night feel electric with nerves.

Bryn: I would love to see you

Ash: I’ll be there then

I tuck my phone under my pillow and close my eyes, imagining us reuniting, how it will feel to have his arms around me, to breathe in his scent again, and hopefully, to feel his mouth on mine once more. My pulse is racing even as sleep tries to pull me under.

The weekend suddenly feels like it can’t come fast enough.

18

ASH

Now

Bryn freezes at my words, which left my mouth before I could stop them. I used the line we used to say, the one only we ever said. Recognition sparks in her eyes. It’s just a flicker, but enough to know I confirmed her suspicions.

Smirking, I dart around her, allowing the fog to swallow me. I let her think she’s alone and slip into the shadows behind her. Every step is calculated; every movement is slow enough to be undetected, but fast enough to keep her heart racing. The rest of the maze looms ahead in twisting corridors. She doesn’t see where I’ve gone, which makes it all the more fun. I hover on the edge of her space, just out of reach, blanketed by the dark. I hear the quick catch of her breath when she senses movement but sees nothing.

Pressing myself against the darkened wall of the maze, I step lightly and watch her weave through the twists, trying to anticipate her turns. Something snaps beneath my foot, some sort of stick or leaf carried inside by others, and I freeze. Her shoulders stiffen. She spins around, scanning, her eyes wide.

I want her to know I’m here without showing myself. A ghost in the mist, I trail after her, careful to stay out of sight. The chase, the anticipation – it’s intoxicating. She pauses at a fork in the maze. I shift from shadow to shadow, moving like a predator. I taste her fear. Her hand brushes the wall right next to my body. It’s too fleeting for her to notice me, but I notice every detail.

I’m getting closer now – close enough that if she turned, she’d see me. My mind races ahead, planning the next move, wondering how far I can push her before she breaks. Maybe I’ll break first, because even I can’t deny the rush of adrenaline this is giving me.

Her pace picks up. She’s trying to outrun me, but I know the maze like the back of my hand. This is my speciality. Just as the corridor narrows and the walls press in, I flick my wrist, a soft movement that causes the bracelet of hers I still wear to jingle, and she freezes. She hears it. She would remember that sound.

The game is on, and I don’t intend to lose.

Every pause she makes, I mirror, only a little behind, just close enough to make her doubt the silence. The maze corridor turns again, narrowing further now. She runs her fingers along the wall, trying to find a hidden door or way out that isn’t obvious. I take a half-step closer, careful not to give myself away. The fog is thick here, swirling around our legs. I move with it, as I have countless times before.

Bryn stops. I freeze. The tension coils between us like electricity. Her head whips left, then right. Her eyes dart around wildly, desperately looking for me, but the darkness is pressing in. I smile, feeling the thick paint stretch underneath the mask.

She’s mine.