Blair's eyes went wide.
"You don't get to order me around in my own bedroom," I continued. "You don't get to pretend you're not jealous when you just melted my doorframe. And you definitely don't get to act like Naomi's the problem here when you're the one who can't figure out what you want."
The ninth ring burned so bright I could feel it behind my eyes, and Blair's face went through another dozen emotions before settling on something that looked like devastation.
"I know what I want," Blair whispered.
"Then stop running from it."
She stood there, trembling, with her fists clenched at her sides and her eyes wet at the corners. The air around her had cooled enough that I could breathe again, and the anger had drained out of her posture entirely, leaving behind something smaller and more fragile than I'd ever seen from Blair Davenport.
