Blurry Desires

Delilah's POV

A sharp, rhythmic pounding echoed in Delilah's skull, pulsing with every beat of her heart. She groaned, rolling onto her side, but the movement only made the nausea worse. The scent of alcohol clung to her skin, mixed with something metallic- something that made her stomach clench. Slowly, she pried her eyes open.

The room was familiar- her dorm, the posters on the wall, the desk piled with books she hadn't touched in weeks. But something was off... Her hoodie was stained.

Delilah sat up abruptly, her breath coming faster now. The dark smudge on the sleeve, the faint rust-colored streak near the hem- was that... blood?

Her pulse roared in her ears. She threw the blanket off, eyes scanning herself for injuries, but there were none. No cuts. No bruises, except for a faint one on her shoulder. Then she saw her hands.

Knuckles raw, skin scraped. Like she had punched something- or someone. The breath caught in her throat.

What the hell had she done last night?

Fragments of memories surfaced. The party. Music so loud it vibrated through the floor. The press of bodies, the taste of vodka burning down her throat... And then-fear.

A shadowed corner. A voice she didn't recognize. A hand gripping her wrist too tightly... Her stomach lurched.

She didn't remember how she got home. Didn't remember how the night ended... But someone had to know.

Delilah shoved off the bed, ignoring the pounding in her skull as she grabbed the first clean hoodie she could find. Her phone sat on the nightstand, unread messages lighting up the screen, but she didn't check them. There was only one place to go for answers.

Theo's POV

The scent of coffee and freshly baked pastries filled the café, mingling with the soft hum of conversation. Theo sat near the window, stirring his untouched drink, his thoughts elsewhere... Last night hadn't gone the way he expected.

He had gone to the party like everyone else, planning to have a few drinks and unwind after practice. But the moment he saw Delilah Monroe across the room, he knew something was wrong.

She had been tense, her expression shifting between discomfort and something sharper-something close to panic... Then he saw the guy.

Theo didn't know his name, but he recognized the type. The way he cornered her, the way his hand lingered on her wrist even as she tried to pull away... He had moved without thinking. By the time he reached them, Delilah had already thrown the first punch... A damn good one, too.

If Theo hadn't stepped in, it would have gotten worse. She had been wild-eyed, adrenaline-fueled, ready to fight. He barely managed to pull her away before things spiraled further... Now, she was looking for answers... A movement at the door caught his attention... She was here.

Delilah walked in with her shoulders squared, jaw tight, scanning the café until her gaze locked onto him. He set his coffee down as she made her way over, her steps quick, determined.

She didn't sit.

"Tell me what happened last night."

Theo leaned back in his chair, studying her. She looked exhausted, dark circles beneath her eyes, tension coiled in her frame.

"You really don't remember?"

She shook her head. "Only flashes." A pause. Then, quieter, "Did I-did I hurt someone?"

His jaw tightened. "No."

Her shoulders sagged slightly, relief flickering across her face. But he wasn't finished.

"You almost did."

She went still.Theo watched the way her fingers curled into fists, how she exhaled sharply like she was bracing for something worse. He kept his voice calm, measured.

"You were in trouble, Delilah. And if I hadn't stopped you, things would have ended badly."

Silence stretched between them. The café noise faded, the weight of his words settling.

Slowly, she pulled out the chair across from him and sat down.

"Tell me everything."

Delilah's POV

The warmth of the café should have been comforting, but Delilah barely noticed it. Her pulse was too loud in her ears, her hands clenched tightly together in her lap.

She forced herself to meet Theo's gaze.

He had always been intense. Even on the ice, there was something focused, deliberate about the way he carried himself. Right now, that intensity was turned on her.

"The guy at the party," she said. "Who was he?"

Theo exhaled through his nose, fingers tapping against the side of his cup. "I don't know his name. But I know his type." He met her eyes, voice steady. "He had you backed into a corner. You looked ready to fight."

Her throat tightened.

"I don't remember him," she admitted. "Just... feeling trapped."

Theo nodded like that made sense. "You threw the first punch. He grabbed you, and you hit him again. Harder."

A sharp inhale. "And then?"

"I pulled you away." His expression darkened. "Before he could do anything worse."

The words sent a shiver down her spine.

She didn't want to ask, but she needed to know. "What do you mean by worse?"

Theo's jaw tensed. He hesitated for half a second before answering. "His hands weren't just on your wrist, Delilah."

Ice filled her veins.

The hoodie suddenly felt too tight, her breath shallow.

She pressed a hand to her forehead, trying to force air into her lungs. "I-"

"You're safe," Theo said, his voice softer now. "I got you out of there."

Delilah nodded, but the weight in her chest remained.

"I should have remembered," she whispered.

Theo studied her for a long moment. "Maybe forgetting is your brain's way of protecting you."

She swallowed hard. It didn't feel like protection. It felt like she had lost control of something vital.

After a beat, she straightened. "What about him? The guy?"

Theo's gaze darkened. "I don't think he'll be bothering you again."

Something about the way he said it sent a shiver down her spine.

She didn't press. Not yet.

Instead, she looked down at her hands. The bruised knuckles. The proof that, even if she had forgotten, her body had remembered enough to fight back.

For the first time since waking up, something inside her steadied.

"I owe you," she said finally, looking up at him.

Theo shook his head. "You don't."

Delilah exhaled, a wry smile tugging at the corner of her lips despite everything. "Well, I'm buying you a coffee anyway."

For a second, she thought he might argue. But then he leaned back, a hint of amusement flickering in his eyes.

"Fine," he said. "But only if you tell me why you punch like a trained fighter."

Her lips parted in surprise.

Theo smirked. "Yeah. I noticed."

Delilah huffed a laugh, shaking her head. "That's a story for another time."

He didn't push. Instead, he let her have that small moment of normalcy, letting the conversation drift into something lighter. Delilah felt like she could breathe again... But deep down, she knew this wasn't over.

Delilah's POV

The coffee in front of her had gone cold. She barely noticed.

Theo sat across from her, relaxed in his chair, fingers idly tapping against the side of his cup. He hadn't said much in the last few minutes, but he didn't need to. His presence alone carried a quiet certainty that made it impossible to ignore the truth- she wasn't done with last night.

Neither was he.

"I need to know more," Delilah said, breaking the silence.

Theo lifted a brow. "What else do you want to know?"

"Everything." She leaned forward, resting her forearms on the table. "Who was he? Has he done this before? And why do I feel like you're holding something back?"

The corner of Theo's mouth twitched, not quite a smile. "I told you what mattered."

"No." Her voice came out sharper than expected. "You told me just enough to keep me from asking more."

A slow sigh left him. He ran a hand through his hair, his expression unreadable.

"The guy wasn't a stranger," he admitted finally. "I've seen him around before. Name's Mason Holt. He's not part of my team, but he's got friends in the same circle."

That name meant nothing to her.

"He knew me?"

"I don't think so. But he sure as hell thought he could do whatever he wanted without consequences."

A familiar heat stirred in her chest. Anger. That same feeling had coursed through her last night, only now she had a name to put to it. Mason Holt. Some entitled prick who thought he could trap her in a corner and walk away like nothing happened.

Theo was still watching her, reading her reaction.

"You don't have to do anything about this," he said. "I doubt he'll try again."

That wasn't the point.

"He should pay for what he did," Delilah muttered.

"He already did." Theo's tone was flat, matter-of-fact.

Something about the way he said it made her pause.

She studied him, taking in the faint bruise along his knuckles.

"What did you do?"

Theo didn't blink. "What I had to."

For a moment, the noise of the café disappeared, the weight of his words settling between them.

He had fought for her.

Delilah wasn't sure what to say to that. Gratitude felt too small, too simple. And yet, she also knew he hadn't done it for thanks.

"I don't want this to just go away," she admitted.

"Then don't let it," Theo said.

A challenge. A promise.

Delilah nodded, determination settling in her chest.

Mason Holt wouldn't get away with this... Not if she had anything to do with it.

Theo's POV

The moment Delilah left the café, Theo knew she wouldn't let this go.

He should have expected that... She wasn't the type to let things slide, not when something mattered to her. And last night? That had mattered.

Delilah's POV

The coffee in front of her had gone cold. She barely noticed.

Theo sat across from her, relaxed in his chair, fingers idly tapping against the side of his cup. He hadn't said much in the last few minutes, but he didn't need to. His presence alone carried a quiet certainty that made it impossible to ignore the truth- she wasn't done with last night.

Neither was he.

"I need to know more," Delilah said, breaking the silence.

Theo lifted a brow. "What else do you want to know?"

"Everything." She leaned forward, resting her forearms on the table. "Who was he? Has he done this before? And why do I feel like you're holding something back?"

The corner of Theo's mouth twitched, not quite a smile. "I told you what mattered."

"No." Her voice came out sharper than expected. "You told me just enough to keep me from asking more."

A slow sigh left him. He ran a hand through his hair, his expression unreadable.

"The guy wasn't a stranger," he admitted finally. "I've seen him around before. Name's Mason Holt. He's not part of my team, but he's got friends in the same circle."

That name meant nothing to her.

"He knew me?"

"I don't think so. But he sure as hell thought he could do whatever he wanted without consequences."

A familiar heat stirred in her chest. Anger. That same feeling had coursed through her last night, only now she had a name to put to it. Mason Holt. Some entitled prick who thought he could trap her in a corner and walk away like nothing happened.

Theo was still watching her, reading her reaction.

"You don't have to do anything about this," he said. "I doubt he'll try again."

That wasn't the point.

"He should pay for what he did," Delilah muttered.

"He already did." Theo's tone was flat, matter-of-fact.

Something about the way he said it made her pause.

She studied him, taking in the faint bruise along his knuckles.

"What did you do?"

Theo didn't blink. "What I had to."

For a moment, the noise of the café disappeared, the weight of his words settling between them.

He had fought for her.

Delilah wasn't sure what to say to that. Gratitude felt too small, too simple. And yet, she also knew he hadn't done it for thanks.

"I don't want this to just go away," she admitted.

"Then don't let it," Theo said.

A challenge. A promise.

Delilah nodded, determination settling in her chest.

Mason Holt wouldn't get away with this... Not if she had anything to do with it.

Theo's POV

The moment Delilah left the café, Theo knew she wouldn't let this go.

He should have expected that... She wasn't the type to let things slide, not when something mattered to her. And last night? That had mattered.

Sliding his phone out of his pocket, he pulled up a message thread.

Theo: She remembers enough. She's not backing down.

The response came quickly.

Unknown Number: Then keep her close. She's not safe yet.

Theo clenched his jaw, and locking his phone screen.

Delilah's POV

The walk back to her dorm should have been peaceful. The campus pathways were quiet, lined with tall trees whose bare branches stretched toward the winter sky. The air carried the crisp bite of the coming cold, but Delilah barely felt it.

Too many thoughts crashed into each other, refusing to settle.

Mason Holt.

She rolled the name around in her mind, trying to see if it triggered anything. It didn't. No clear memories, no familiar faces. Just a lingering unease that wouldn't go away.

Theo had done something to him-handled it, in his words. That should have reassured her. Instead, it only left more questions.

What exactly had he done?

And why did it feel like this wasn't over?

Reaching her dorm, Delilah pulled out her key and pushed the door open. The room was just as she left it-messy, lived-in, normal. But the second she stepped inside, a chill ran down her spine.

Something was off.

Her backpack sat by the desk where she had tossed it yesterday. Her bed was unmade, blankets still half on the floor. Nothing looked disturbed.

But the air felt wrong.

She checked the door again, pressing her fingers against the lock. It was intact. No signs of forced entry.

Shaking off the feeling, she grabbed her hoodie and yanked it over her head. Maybe she was just paranoid. Maybe last night had messed with her more than she wanted to admit.

Her phone buzzed on the nightstand.

She grabbed it, expecting another message from Theo. Instead, an unknown number flashed across the screen.

Unknown: You should forget about last night.

Her stomach twisted.

The message came with no name, no warning, just a cold, blunt demand.

Another vibration.

Unknown: Stay quiet, and no one gets hurt.

A sharp breath pushed past her lips.

The air in the room felt heavier now, the walls pressing in.

Someone was watching her.

Theo's POV

The weight of a long day settled into Theo's shoulders, but he ignored it. His focus was locked on the ice, skates cutting sharp lines as he pushed himself harder, faster. The cold air burned his lungs, sweat trailing down his spine beneath his gear.

Repetition, precision, control.

Everything he needed to clear his mind.

His body moved on instinct, the rhythm of the game ingrained into him after years of training. The sound of the puck slamming against the boards barely registered. He should have been thinking about the next play, about the upcoming championship. Instead, one thought kept pushing to the surface.

Delilah.

She had that look in her eyes today-the same one he had seen last night, right before she threw the first punch. A mixture of defiance and something deeper, something darker.

She wasn't letting this go.

Theo skated toward the bench, shoving his helmet off. The guys were still running drills, but he had done enough for the night.

Pulling his phone from his bag, he checked his messages. Nothing from Delilah. That wasn't like her.

His fingers hesitated over the screen before he typed.

Theo: You good?

No response.

Tension coiled in his chest.

After another moment, he grabbed his gear and headed for the locker room. He wasn't the kind of guy to hover, but something told him she needed backup.

And if he was right?

Then things were about to get worse.

Delilah's POV

Her fingers hovered over her phone screen, heart pounding.

The words from the unknown number stared back at her, a silent warning that felt too personal. Too direct.

Someone wanted her to forget... And that meant someone was scared.

Instead of replying, she took a steadying breath and did the only thing that made sense-she called Theo.

The line rang twice before he picked up.

"You okay?" His voice was sharp, alert.

"I got a message." Her voice came out steady, but her hands were shaking. "From an unknown number."

Silence stretched between them for a beat.

"What did it say?"

"Forget about last night. Stay quiet." She swallowed. "Or someone gets hurt."

A curse came through the receiver, low and controlled.

"I'm coming over," Theo said, no room for argument in his tone.

Delilah didn't stop him. She wasn't sure she wanted to.

Instead, she sat on the edge of her bed, staring at the words on her screen, knowing one thing for certain.

Whoever sent this message had made a mistake.

They thought she was the kind of girl who scared easily... They were wrong.