TANGLED:,Crazy For You のすべてのチャプター: チャプター 1 - チャプター 10

Hazel Pov The afternoon sun bled through the gaps in the blinds, casting long, golden stripes across the hardwood floor of my bedroom. It was that specific, heavy kind of heat that settled over the house around three o'clock, the kind that made the air feel thick and time move like molasses. I groaned, burying my face deeper into the cool side of my pillow, trying to cling to the fading edges of a dream I couldn't quite remember. My mouth tasted like stale cotton, and my stomach gave a hollow, demanding rumble. Surrendering to the inevitable, I pushed the tangled mess of my thick red hair out of my face and sat up. I was twenty-one years old, but in the hazy aftermath of a two-hour nap, I felt entirely uncoordinated. I glanced down at my attire—a pair of faded, ridiculously short denim cut-offs and one of my brother’s old, oversized navy blue polo shirts that swallowed my frame and hung halfway down my thighs. It wasn't exactly runway material, but in the sanctuary of my own home,

The morning light filtered through the sheer curtains of Hazel’s bedroom, casting soft, honeyed streaks across the hardwood floor. Usually, Hazel loved the quietude of the early hours, but today, the air in the house felt different—charged with a static electricity that made the fine hairs on her arms stand up. Silas was here. He was just down the hall, and the mere thought of him being a permanent fixture in their home sent a flutter of panicked excitement through her chest.She stood before her full-length mirror, smoothing the fabric of her cream knit top. It was a soft, form-fitting piece that hugged her curves in a way that felt both modest and dangerously feminine. She paired it with high-waisted caramel trousers that elongated her legs, cinching at her waist to emphasize her delicate frame. She brushed her vibrant red hair until it shone like polished mahogany, letting the waves cascade down her back. She wanted to look put-together—professional for her university classes—but a

Silas PovThe school had been lively but all I could think about the entire ride back was how every single one of those boys had looked at her.I'd sat beside Hazel in the back seat while Leo drove, close enough that her shoulder pressed into my arm every time the car drifted over a lane marker, close enough to catch the faint sweetness of whatever she'd put in her hair that morning. Something floral. Soft. The kind of scent that had no business living this close to a man like me, and yet there it was, threading into my lungs like it had always belonged there.I hadn't said much. I rarely do. But I'd watched.I watched the way she fussed with the hem of her skirt at each red light, tugging it lower with two fingers, completely unaware that the gesture only drew more attention to her legs. I watched Leo glance in the rearview and say something about her curfew, and the way she rolled her eyes like she was still twelve years old in her brother's mind—which, to be fair, she probably was

Hazel The door clicked shut behind me, and I pressed my back flat against it like I could physically hold the rest of the world out. Like if I pushed hard enough, the wood would meld to my spine and seal me in here forever — away from the hallway, away from the stairs, away from him. My legs gave before I made the conscious decision to sit. I slid down slowly, the door rough against my shoulder blades, until I hit the floor. The carpet was soft under my palms. I stared at nothing — at the pale stretch of my bedroom wall, at the fairy lights I'd strung along the window frame freshman year that I'd never bothered to take down. They weren't on. The room was the dim, grainy gray of late afternoon, and I sat in it like something washed up and forgotten. He knows. The thought had been circling since the moment Silas's eyes found mine on the staircase. It hadn't left. It settled into the base of my skull and throbbed there, quiet and insistent, the way a bruise does when you stop mo

Hazel The food had entirely lost its appeal. The fluffy scrambled eggs now looked like yellow rubber, and the toast felt like ash in her mouth. Hazel sat on the edge of the couch for another five minutes, aggressively wiping the sticky orange juice from her thigh with a napkin, her skin flushed and overly sensitive where the cold liquid had hit.She could hear him in the kitchen. The clink of a glass. The rush of the tap. The sound of him swallowing. It was infuriating how hyper-aware she was of his every movement. Silas had only been living with them for a short time, but his presence had fundamentally altered the gravity of the house. He wasn't just her brother's best friend; he was an invasive force, a dark storm cloud that had settled permanently over her previously quiet life.Gathering her ruined breakfast, she carried her empty plate and the half-full glass back to the kitchen. She set them in the stainless steel sink with a sharper clatter than necessary. The kitchen was empt