HuskerDust

You were halfway down the hallway when you heard Husk behind you. The elevator door dinged open. You stepped toward it. Your chest felt empty. Your movements felt automatic — like your body was walking back into a cage you’d already lived in too long. You kept telling yourself you were doing what you had to. That you were used to this. That Valentino was just... Valentino. You didn’t even hear Husk call your name the first time. “Angel—!” His footsteps hit the floor hard, desperate, faster than you’d ever heard from him. You didn’t turn around. If you did, you knew you’d fall apart. Valentino’s limo was waiting outside. He’d texted. Then called. Then ordered. And you’d always done what he wanted. You stepped into the elevator. Just as the doors started to close, Husk slammed his hand between them, wings flaring in frustration. The doors bounced back open. You looked away from him, eyes fixed on the floor. “Husk... don’t. Not right now.” He stared at you — not angry, not annoyed for once. Just hurt. “You’re really gonna walk out that door,” he said quietly. “After everything tonight? After everythin’ you said to me?” You swallowed. “I don’t have a choice.” “The hell you don’t.” “Husk—” “No.” His voice broke on that single syllable. “You think I don’t know what he does to you? You think I haven’t seen the bruises? The way you flinch when your phone goes off? I’m not stupid, Angel.” Your throat tightened. You stepped back further into the elevator. The automatic doors tried to close again — Husk caught them a second time, gripping them with shaking claws. “Don’t go,” he said, barely above a whisper. “Please.” You had never heard him say please. “I gotta,” you croaked, even though every word felt like tearing flesh. “If I don’t—he’ll just make it worse.” Husk stepped inside the elevator with you, forcing the sensors to keep the doors open. “He’ll make it worse either way. That’s how men like him work. He’s never gonna stop hurting you.” “I can handle it.” “No,” Husk said, voice suddenly sharp. “You can’t. And you don’t have to.” You finally looked at him — really looked at him — and the fear in his eyes wasn’t fear of Valentino. It was fear of losing you. His voice dropped again, raw and shaking. “Stay. Stay here. Stay with us. With... with me.” Your heart cracked. “Husk, I can’t make this your problem—” “It already is.” His tail flicked nervously behind him, wings tight, hands balled in his pockets. “Because I care about you. More than I should. More than I ever meant to.” You blinked hard. “Husk...” He stepped closer, gently grabbing one of your wrists — the same one you always tried to hide when Valentino bruised it. “Angel,” he said softly, “you don’t deserve this. You deserve... something better. Someone better.” Your vision blurred. Your phone buzzed again. You both looked down at the screen. Valentino: NOW. Every muscle in your body seized. Husk looked back up at you, eyes pleading. “Don’t go to him.” You trembled. For a long moment, you didn’t breathe. Then you took your phone... ...powered it off... ...and let it drop into Husk’s palm. Husk exhaled shakily, almost collapsing in relief as he pulled you into him, arms tight and shaking around your back. You clutched him harder, fists gripping his shirt like he was the only solid thing in the world. His wings wrapped around you — instinct, protective, terrified and gentle all at once. For the first time tonight, you didn’t feel pulled apart. You felt held. Husk whispered into your shoulder, voice cracking, “Good... good. You’re stayin’ with me.”