#drew starkey x y/n | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

superbreadsoul · 1 day ago

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THE DYING EMBERS OF A FLICKERING FLAME.

Drew Starkey x Reader.

DISCLAIMER: This oneshot is in no way a reflection of these people in real-life. This is only for fun and dramaticized for entertainment. No one in this story is disliked by me, I like them all a normal amount.

Warning: cheating, bipolar emotions, inaccurate depiction of Drew's personality, cuss words, implied sexual acts.

WORD COUNT: 21468 words.

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The hum of the gathering buzzed softly in the background, a mix of laughter, clinking glasses, and distant conversations. Odessa leaned against the doorframe, her eyes narrowing as she scanned the room. Her lips pressed into a thin line when her gaze landed on the girl waving at Madelyn from the bar.

Or rather, the woman.

“Is that…?” Odessa’s voice trailed off, her bushy eyebrows drawing together as her chest tightened. It couldn’t be. Her gaze swept over the figure in disbelief, studying the sleek haircut, the sharp-edged confidence in her posture. That couldn’t be Y/N.

Y/N, with her wide, pleading eyes, her constant hovering around Drew, the girl Odessa had always written off as a pitiful rival. Y/N, who once had the nerve to think she could compete for Drew. Odessa’s stomach churned as the wound of insecurity reopened, her possessive side flaring like a long-dormant flame suddenly fed fresh air.

The girl was gone. In her place was a woman.

Cool where Odessa was warm. Composed where Odessa was vibrant. Polished where Odessa was raw.

Odessa tore her gaze away, muttering something under her breath, but the unease stuck with her, threading itself into every movement she made.

In the kitchen, Drew stood at the charcuterie board, selecting a slice of brie with absent focus. He glanced up at the soft sound of someone approaching. His eyes widened slightly when he saw her.

“Hey, Y/N,” he said softly, his voice tinged with surprise.

Her gaze flicked to him, calm and unreadable. She nodded, offering a polite smile. “Drew.”

Drew faltered. The change in her was sharp, cutting. This wasn’t the girl he remembered—always trailing after him, laughing too hard at his jokes, hoping for scraps of his attention. This woman was different, a cool presence that unsettled him in its unfamiliarity.

“You’re… different,” he said, tilting his head as he studied her. “Huh?”

Y/N frowned slightly, straightening her posture as her hands clasped the whiskey in her hand. “Sorry?”

“You just seem different,” Drew clarified, raising an eyebrow. His gaze swept over her again, almost searching. “A good different. You’ve grown up. Yeah, that’s it. You–Wow.”

Her smile tightened. “Thank you?”

The sharpness of her tone caught him off guard, and he furrowed his brow. Where were the puppy dog eyes? The shy, desperate eagerness? Instead, she looked at him like a stranger would—polite, distant.

“You’re welcome,” he muttered, stepping closer. He gestured to the spread in front of them. “So, what have you been up to lately?”

She tilted her head thoughtfully. “I’ve had some shoots done recently. Worked with Tom Holland for his campaign, ‘Bero.’ He’s a great guy. And I’ve been flying around a lot. ‘One Piece’ is shooting again, and I wanted to support Taz—you remember Taz Skylar, right?”

Drew blinked. “Wait, you were in the One Piece adaptation?” His surprise was genuine, but it quickly twisted into something else.

“No, no,” Y/N corrected with a laugh, her tone warm. “I just went to support Taz. He’s amazing—such a sweetheart.”

Her fond smile lingered, and Drew felt something stir in him. Irritation, maybe. He couldn’t place it exactly, but the way the conversation shifted entirely to her world, her accomplishments, her effortless confidence—it grated on him. He suddenly felt like an extra in a story where he used to be the lead.

“So, you’ve been busy,” he said, forcing a casual tone. “Working and all. Been seeing anyone?”

She opened her mouth to reply, but before a word could escape, Brooke Starkey’s arms wrapped around her in an exuberant hug.

“Y/N!” Brooke’s bright voice cut through the room, drawing eyes as she squeezed Y/N tight.

Y/N laughed, her expression softening as she returned the hug. “Brooke! It’s been ages. How are you?”

“I’m great!” Brooke beamed, pulling back to flash her braces. “Our sister’s kids are growing up so fast. Seriously, they’ll be taller than me soon!”

Y/N chuckled, shaking her head. “They grow like weeds, don’t they?”

Brooke’s grin turned sly. “What about you? What’s new? Any guys?”

Y/N's laugh was light, breezy. “Funny, your brother was just asking me the same thing.”

She glanced at both of them with a subtle arch of her brow, her smile polite but distant. Drew swallowed hard, sensing the shift in her—one he wasn’t sure he could keep up with.

The energy in the room shifted, tension crackling subtly beneath the surface as Brooke’s teasing voice broke through the hum of chatter.

“He was?” she asked with a smirk, glancing between her brother and Y/N. “You’re always so nosy.”

Drew rolled his eyes, glaring half-heartedly at his sister. “Just curious, is all,” he said, the corner of his mouth twitching upward despite himself. “Always need to know what’s going on.”

Y/N's tilted her head, her tone sharp yet calm. “Not always.”

Brooke looks between them awkwardly, before excusing herself. “I’m just gonna—yeah.”

Drew chuckled, the sound low as he met her steady gaze. “Okay, not always,” he admitted. Then, leaning slightly closer, he added, “Just when it’s important to me.”

Her expression didn’t shift, but her narrowed eyes betrayed her disbelief. “Why would it be important to you?”

Her words hung in the air, and for a moment, Drew hesitated. Why was it important? The truth lingered on the edge of his mind, taunting him, but he wasn’t about to admit it.

“Because we’re friends?” he said, his tone light but his jaw tight. The answer felt hollow, and he knew it. Friends. That’s what he was supposed to believe. So why did it bother him to imagine someone else making her smile the way she used to smile at him?

Y/N let out a laugh, sharp and incredulous. “Friends?” she echoed, shaking her head. “We’re not friends.”

Her words hit him harder than he expected, and Drew’s smile faltered. His brow furrowed as he stared at her, his voice growing colder. “Then what are we?”

Y/N hesitated, her expression flickering as she thought back to the sting of rejection, to the way he’d brushed her off a year ago like she hadn’t mattered. But she wouldn’t let that show now. She wouldn’t give him the satisfaction.

“Nothing,” she said simply, her voice steady.

“Nothing,” Drew repeated, the word dripping with bitterness. His jaw tightened as he stared at her, the muscles in his arms flexing as he crossed them over his chest. “So I’m nothing to you?”

Y/N sighed, shaking her head. “You’re twisting my words.”

Drew’s frustration bubbled over, his tone pointed as he pressed on. “How exactly would you want me to interpret that? It either means we’re friends, or we’re nothing. Those are my only options, and you just said we’re nothing.”

Y/N's eyes flashed, but her composure didn’t waver. “I said we are nothing,” she clarified, her voice cutting but cool. “We have nothing. So stop getting so worked up over it and go back to your girlfriend.”

She gestured casually toward Odessa, her tone dismissive as she picked up her glass and drained it in one fluid motion. Then, without another glance at Drew, she turned away, her indifference slicing through the air like a blade.

Drew stood there, rooted in place, watching her as his emotions churned—confusion, irritation, something he refused to name. Whatever it was, it left a bitter taste in his mouth as he realised Y/N had turned away from him without so much as a second thought.

The tension between them coiled tighter, the invisible thread of unresolved emotions threatening to snap as Drew’s dry laugh filled the space between them.

“I’m getting worked up? That’s funny,” he said, the bitterness in his tone unmistakable. His eyes scanned her face, her cool, collected expression only stoking the flames of his frustration. This wasn’t the Y/N he was used to—the shy, eager-to-please girl who once hung on his every word. Her transformation was unsettling, throwing him completely off balance. “Since when did you grow a backbone?”

She didn’t answer right away. Instead, she tilted her head, a small smile creeping onto her lips as she regarded him in silence.

That smile—calm, knowing, infuriating—ignited something in Drew. His jaw clenched as he fought to keep his composure, but the flicker of annoyance was impossible to hide.

“What’s that look for?” he demanded, his voice edged with irritation as his narrowed eyes bore into hers.

Her amusement only deepened. She leaned back slightly, her gaze locked on his, unbothered. “I really get under your skin, don’t I?” she said, her tone light and teasing, though there was a sharpness beneath it.

She raised her glass and took a slow sip of her whiskey, her movements deliberate, her gaze never wavering.

“You have no idea how much,” Drew replied, his laugh low and humourless. The words felt like a confession he hadn’t meant to make. He stepped closer, his height casting a shadow over her, the air between them electric with tension. His voice dropped, almost a growl. “When the hell did you grow a backbone and lose all that clingy neediness?”

The question hung in the air, laced with equal parts irritation and disbelief.

Y/N's smile widened, but it didn’t reach her eyes. She leaned forward slightly, her tone laced with mock encouragement. “There you go. Keep it up, buddy.” She tilted her head, raising an eyebrow as she gestured subtly with her hand. “Go on.”

Her sarcasm hit like a match to gasoline, fueling the fire in his chest. Drew’s hands balled into fists at his sides as he stared down at her, unsure if he wanted to yell at her or—something else entirely.

She just kept smiling, completely unfazed, and Drew couldn’t help but think that this new Y/N—the one who could meet him head-on without flinching—was both maddening and utterly captivating.

The tension between them was unbearable, crackling like a live wire ready to snap. Drew’s nostrils flared as his jaw clenched tightly. His glare burned into her, a storm of frustration and confusion swirling in his blue eyes. She was playing him, and he knew it. Worse, it was working.

“You wanna know what I think?” he asked, his voice dangerously low, his hands balling into fists at his sides.

Y/N tilted her head, her eyes sparkling with amusement as a wide smile spread across her face. “What?”

“I think this new ‘maturity’ of yours is a load of bullshit,” Drew spat, his tone laced with venom. “All of it—the new look, the new attitude, the new you—it’s just a game. You’re still the same girl who was obsessed with me not even a year ago.”

Y/N bit her lip to hold back a laugh, nodding sarcastically as she hummed, “Hmm, hmm, yeah.”

Her mocking agreement only fueled Drew’s fire. His temper flared as he stepped closer, his broad frame towering over hers. The noise of the party around them faded into a distant hum as his voice dropped to a sharp whisper meant only for her.

“So why don’t you drop the act, huh?” he hissed, his tone biting. “Stop pretending to be some tough, cool chick who’s too good for everyone. Because I know the real you.”

Y/N's eyebrow arched, her lips curving into a sly smile as she flipped her hair over her shoulder. Her voice was light and teasing. “Is that so?”

Drew’s jaw tightened further, his blue eyes narrowing with anger. “Yeah, it is so,” he bit out. “Because you’re still the same girl who was whining and begging for my attention every chance you got. You were obsessed with me.”

Y/N's smirk didn’t waver. Instead, she glanced up at the ceiling thoughtfully, her tone now playful, almost whimsical. “Obsessed. You know, that’s a great idea for a new song,” she mused, already toying with imaginary lyrics in her mind.

The blatant dismissal, the way she made light of his words, drove Drew over the edge. His hands clenched into fists again as he stepped even closer, closing the already slim distance between them.

Grabbing her chin firmly, he forced her to face him, his large hand tilting her head down so their eyes locked. His voice was a growl, low and heated. “Are you even listening to me?”

Y/N's expression didn’t falter. If anything, her smirk deepened, her tone dripping with condescension as she pouted mockingly. “Oh boy! Big feelings!” she taunted, her voice soft and sugary.

That was the final straw. Drew snapped. With a sudden, sharp motion, his hand shot to her hair, grabbing a fistful and tugging it harshly, his fingers curling tightly in the strands.

“You think this is a joke?” he hissed, his voice trembling with barely restrained rage. “This is bullshit.”

Y/N grunted, her playful demeanour cracking under the sharp pull of his grip. Anger flared in her own eyes now, replacing the cool confidence she’d maintained.

“Get off of me,” she growled, her voice low and dangerous as she shoved at his chest.

But Drew didn’t let go immediately. His grip lingered for a moment longer, his anger simmering before he finally released her, the tension between them pulsing like a heartbeat.

The silence that followed was deafening, their heavy breaths the only sound as they stared at each other, both furious, both unwilling to look away. Whatever this was—this thing between them—it wasn’t over. But neither of them knew how it would end.

The tension between them reached a fever pitch as Drew’s grip on Y/N's hair tightened, forcing her to meet his blazing gaze. His nostrils flared, his jaw locked with fury, and yet, beneath it all, there was something else—something darker, more conflicted.

“Or what?” he hissed, his tone low and sharp like a blade, his eyes narrowing dangerously.

Y/N didn’t flinch. Instead, her voice was steady, almost mocking, as she leaned closer, her breath fanning his face. “Or you’re gonna lose your girlfriend,” she said softly, her tone laced with quiet defiance.

That landed. Drew’s glare faltered for a split second as he glanced sideways, his eyes darting to Odessa. She stood a few feet away, watching the two of them with a steely gaze, her lips pressed into a thin, disapproving line. The weight of her stare should’ve been enough to snap him out of it, to remind him where his loyalties lay.

But when he turned back to Y/N, the lack of fear in her eyes—the way she looked at him like she had all the power in the world—sent a fresh wave of anger coursing through him. His grip on her hair tightened.

“Don’t push me,” he ground out through clenched teeth, his voice barely above a whisper, trembling with restrained fury.

Y/N's lips curled into a small, daring smile, her eyes glinting with challenge. “Then let go,” she whispered back, her tone taunting, daring him to make his next move.

The words ignited something primal in Drew, a mix of rage and something else entirely—something he didn’t want to name. His blood boiled, and for a moment, the idea of pulling her closer, of silencing her with a kiss that would burn as much as their anger, flitted through his mind.

The thought caught him off guard. What the hell? He thought, blinking as the realisation unsettled him. “I said, don’t push me,” he repeated, his voice hoarse, trembling with more than just fury now.

Y/N's chest rose and fell with her quickened breath, her defiant facade cracking ever so slightly as she glared at him. But even now, with the sting of his grip making her scalp ache, she refused to back down.

Her lips parted as if to speak, but the moment hung heavy between them, a storm of unresolved emotions crackling in the air. Around them, the curious glances of partygoers grew bolder, whispers starting to ripple through the room.

Odessa shifted in her spot, her arms crossing over her chest as her narrowed gaze darkened. The storm wasn’t just between Drew and Y/N anymore—it was closing in on all of them.

Y/N's taunts sliced through Drew like a blade, each word sharper than the last, cutting straight to his pride. She leaned in closer, her voice low and mocking, dripping with venomous amusement.

“You like it. Look at you,” she whispered, her smirk growing as her eyes flicked over his face, savouring the anger simmering in his expression. “I make you feel like a man.”

Her tone turned almost sing-song as she pressed on. “Brute strength and all. Guess Odessa doesn’t let you take the reins, huh? Is she the one always on top? Or—or are you the one who’s on your stomach?”

A soft, mocking laugh escaped her lips, private and husky, meant only for him. The fire in Drew’s eyes burned hotter, his jaw tightening as his grip on her hair became almost punishing.

He’d never hated someone so much, so deeply, in his entire life. Not just for her words, but for how easily she wormed her way under his skin, how her taunts had him seeing red.

“Shut up,” he hissed through gritted teeth, his voice low and feral. His free hand turned her around towards the door of the ballroom with a touch that felt both instinctive and entirely wrong. He yanked her closer out into the hallway of the hotel lobby, a few feet away from the party, the music from inside echoing through the halls. He roughly pinned her to the wall, towering over her in an attempt to make her feel small, his strength rough and unrelenting.

But Y/N was relentless. Her smirk didn’t waver, her voice dipping lower, the mocking edge cutting deeper. “Oh shit! So I’m right?” she drawled, her tone all cruel amusement. “You always were a little bitch—of course you’re taking it from behind—”

Drew’s nostrils flared as the words hit him, an image flashing in his mind that he wanted nothing to do with. His anger surged to the surface, his breath coming fast and uneven as the space between them seemed to collapse under the weight of their shared fury.

“Say one more thing,” he growled, his voice low and dangerous, his grip tightening until the tension between them felt ready to explode. “I dare you.”

But Y/N only smiled, her silence speaking volumes, her eyes daring him to make his next move.

Drew’s chest rose and fell with the force of his breathing, every word she spat at him fueling the fire in his veins. He knew exactly what Y/N's was doing—the low, husky tone, the way she held his gaze with those fiery, unyielding eyes. It was a game she had mastered long ago, one she used to play when she wanted to crawl under his skin, break him down, and leave him craving her.

And damn it, it was working.

His hand shot out, gripping her jaw firmly, forcing her to look up at him. His fingers dug into her skin as his glare bore down on her like daggers. “God, I still hate you,” he hissed, his voice barely above a murmur, though the heat behind it was unmistakable.

“Good,” Y/N snapped back, her whiskey-rough voice dripping with venom. “Cause I fucking hate you too.”

Her words hit like a slap, but they didn’t cool his anger—instead, they stoked it. He had almost forgotten how intense she could get when they fought, how raw and unfiltered their arguments became. It reminded him of the past, of how their fiery clashes used to end in bruising kisses and desperate hands. The passion between them was always a double-edged sword, cutting deep but sparking something he couldn’t ignore.

And now, here she was, standing toe-to-toe with him, her eyes blazing, her voice rasping with that whiskey-coated edge, and it was like a damn switch flipped in his head.

“Yeah? You hate me?” Drew growled, his voice rough and low, his grip on her jaw tightening as he leaned closer. His breath fanned her face, the space between them crackling with tension.

“Fucking hate you,” Y/N bit out, her tone raw and scathing, but there was something else there too. Her breath hitched as he leaned even closer, his body crowding hers.

The words were venom, but the heat between them was intoxicating, suffocating. They were locked in a battle neither could walk away from, their anger feeding into something dangerous, something electric. For a moment, it felt like the whole world had fallen away, leaving only them in their storm.

Drew's grip on her hair and hip was rough, possessive, but for a moment, he stopped pulling–his hand just held her there, keeping her exactly where he wanted her. They were too close, much too close, his face hovering inches from hers, his breath warm against her skin.

"Say it one more time," he demanded, his voice hoarse and tight with restraint.

Y/N's eyes narrowed, and she gritted the words out, her voice cold and biting. "I. Hate. You." Each syllable cut through the air between them, a challenge, a dare.

Drew's body burned with tension, his mind clouded with thoughts he couldn't push away. The wild look in his eyes intensified, and for a split second, he imagined doing what he should never do–taking her then and there. His hand tightened on her hip, pulling her closer, making her feel the raw heat of his desire. He didn't speak for a moment, just stood there, close enough to taste her, as his pulse thudded through his ears.

"I hate you, too," he muttered, his voice low and gravelly, brushing against her lips with every word. The heat between them was palpable, suffocating.

Suddenly, Y/N recoiled, her head hitting the wall of the empty hallway with a soft thud. Her eyes widened in disbelief, and she gave him a scathing look. "What-what the fuck is wrong with you? Is this turning you on?!" she demanded, incredulous, her breath shaky.

Drew's eyes flicked to the empty hallway, his senses sharpening. She was right-they were alone, out of sight from the party, hidden in the shadows of the house. His pulse quickened as he looked down at her, pinned between the wall and his body. His grip on her hip tightened again, dragging her even closer. She could feel the evidence of his desire, pressing against her as he trapped her, no escape.

"No... no, you're just an infuriating little tease," he bit out through clenched teeth, trying to stay in control, but every word she spoke, every inch of her body pressed against his, made it harder.

Y/N's lips curled into a mocking smile, and she crossed her arms, staring up at him with a fire in her eyes.

"Tell that to the boner in your pants, Drew."

Her words were a slap to his pride, and he couldn't even deny it. He was harder than he had been in ages, his body betraying him with every second that passed, every breath he took in her presence. He was so close to losing control, to slamming her into the wall and kissing her until they both couldn't breathe.

"I didn't realise I was so transparent..." Drew muttered, a dry laugh escaping his lips. His tone was rough, strained, and distracted, and it took everything in him not to just close the gap between them and end the maddening tension.

In the dimly lit hallway, shadows danced against the walls, cast by the flickering fluorescent lights. The air was thick with tension, twisted by the words exchanged like daggers in the night. Y/N stood with an air of triumph, her lips curling into a mocking smile, eyes glinting with a challenge.

“You’re so pathetic." she said, her voice dripping with disdain. The room seemed to pulse with her energy, vibrant and alive. Each word was a sharp blade, cutting deeper into him. “Do you like that I hate you? Does it turn you on? Maybe that’s what I should’ve done a year ago, huh? Treated you like the pathetic little bitch boy you really are.”

The mockery twisted in the air, echoing like the haunting notes of a forgotten song. Y/N tilted her head, pouting as if addressing a child caught in a moment of irreparable shame. “That what you want, bitch boy? Odessa not treating you shitty enough?”

Every syllable dripped with contempt. She was the predator, and he—Drew, in this moment—found himself the prey, reduced to a mere shadow of his former self. He had always reveled in his dominance, in being the one to command the room, but now she toyed with him like a cat playing with a wounded mouse.

She watched him, delighting in the flush creeping up his neck, the way he struggled to maintain his composure, a veneer of arrogance clinging to him like a well-worn mask. Even as he feigned indifference, the truth was clear—his body betrayed him with a raging hardness, an embarrassing truth he couldn’t reconcile.

Drew, usually so untouchable, felt like a spectre trapped in his own thoughts. This interaction was all wrong; he was the one who held all the cards. She was supposed to be begging for his attention, not striding away with such confidence, and every fibre of his being recoiled at the sudden shift in their dynamic.

“Yeah—yeah that’s what I thought,” Y/N said, a self-satisfied smirk tugging at her lips as she assessed his silence, the power dynamics visibly shifting. She turned her back to him, her confidence almost palpable as she began to saunter elegantly away, each step an affront to his pride.

“That’s it? Just walk away?” he called after her, voice rough, almost desperate. He watched her, torn between admiration and resentment at her breathtaking poise. The very foundation of their relationship felt like it was crumbling. “You can’t talk smack like that and then just walk away… come on, Y/N, that’s not fair—”

For a moment, she paused, the corner of her mouth twitching in amusement. The challenge hung heavy in the air, and the lingering silence wrapped around them like a shroud.

“��Watch me.”

Without a backward glance, she raised her middle finger high, her posture exuding defiance, before disappearing down the hallway, leaving him with nothing but confusion and bitterness. The echo of her heels faded, but the imprint of her words remained, seeping into the very marrow of his pride as he stood there, feeling as though the world had turned upside down.

—After her performance of “it’s ok, I’m ok”—

The dimly lit bar thrummed with the sounds of chatter and clinking glasses, but for Drew, the world outside faded into an obscure blur. His gaze remained fixed on the small stage at the front, where she poured out her heart and soul, lyrics dripping with emotion that felt all too personal. Each note struck like a hammer against his chest, resonating with the enormity of the unspoken between them. He could feel the weight of her anger like a heavy cloak draped over their shared history, one laced with moments both exquisite and excruciating.

She stood there, radiant and furious, her voice slicing through the air. How could she hold such fury and beauty simultaneously? Drew’s heart raced, a mix of admiration and regret pounding in syncopation with the beat of the music—a primal reminder of what had been lost, yet fluttering with the thrill of what might still be.

When the final note faded into applause, Drew found himself drowning in the swirl of bodies, each one like a wave that could sweep him away and drown him in the chaos. He was desperate for her, craving clarity amid the confusion swirling in his mind. After what felt like an eternity, he succumbed to the weight of mixed emotions and found himself at the bar, seeking solace at the bottom of a glass that appeared deceptively comforting.

He sank deeper into his thoughts, how the night had spiralled from exhilaration to frustration, anger to longing. The alcohol numbed the edges, turning his world fuzzy and warm, yet his heart whispered that this moment was anything but resolved. As he hunched over his half-empty glass, he barely recognized how much he had needed this—this space, the drink, and yet, most of all, her presence.

“How’d you like my song?” Her voice chimed behind him, familiar and sharp, an electric current that coursed through his veins.

Drew’s eyes closed for a fleeting moment before reality crashed into him. He turned slowly, the room spinning with the liquor, and found her standing there—an enchanting silhouette framed by the faint glow of bar lights. The formal black dress clung to her like a second skin, accentuating every curve he had tried so hard to forget. He swallowed hard, a mix of admiration and guilt knotting in his throat.

“Which one?” he replied dryly, raising his glass as if it were a shield against the vulnerability mixing in his chest.

“Both,” she answered, her smile cutting through the layers of tension like a knife through fog.

Drew felt a rush of heat surge through him, not just from the alcohol but from the intensity of her look, the challenge lingering in the air between them. They were two people caught in the eye of a storm, everything else around them fading, leaving only the truth of what lay unspoken. Drew could feel the weight of her gaze, the layers of accusation and yearning in her eyes. This night was far from over, and the melody of their tumultuous connection was playing on loop—a reminder that sometimes, the most painful songs were the ones that resonated the deepest.

The dim light of the bar flickered like a hesitant heartbeat, casting shadows that danced around them as if unwilling spectators to the emotional tempest brewing at their table. Drew leaned back against the cool surface, his fingers tracing the rim of his glass, which felt more substantial than the reality unfolding before him. He scoffed, taking an appraising measure of her—his eyes flitted down her form, pausing on the curves that the fitted dress clung to like a second skin.

She was enchanting, even when she didn't mean to be, and in that moment, he was painfully aware that he should not be feeling this drawn to her. But the alcohol coursing through his veins blurred the edges of reason and made the alluring figure before him even harder to dismiss.

“The first one was catchy,” he replied, the words spilling out dryly, laced with an irritation he couldn’t quite suppress.

“Yeah, it is. It’s also very true. I’m not into you anymore, Drew. Let’s just get that straight,” she retorted, nonchalance drenching her tone like thick syrup. A casual shrug accompanied her dismissal, further igniting the confusion simmering within him.

There was a peculiar sense of calm in her voice that unsettled him, like the eerie silence before a storm. The sharp pang of rejection mingled with anger, swirling through him like an unpredictable tide. How could she sound so composed about losing something she had once clung to with fervour?

“How could you just suddenly not be into me?” he shot back, intensity sharpening his features as he turned fully to face her. His eyes narrowed in desperate search of the truth hidden behind her façade.

“Suddenly? It’s been a year,” she countered, her incredulity palpable, as if he had just voiced the most absurd notion.

“Yeah, but… you wanted me so badly, for so long,” he murmured, the frustration weaving through his voice like a thread pulled taut. He held her gaze, their eyes locking, battling emotions bubbling to the surface. Anger simmered within him at her apparent indifference—how could she let him go so easily? Frustration gnawed at his insides, a bitter aftertaste lingering from far too many nights spent tangled in longing.

“What does it matter? You never liked me back in the first place,” she laughed, the sound edged with disbelief and tinged with hurt, and it cut through him like a blade, sharp and unwelcome.

In that instant, the chaotic undercurrents of their shared history surged forth, thrumming with unspoken words and buried feelings. He felt the walls he had carefully constructed around his heart begin to tremble, as the vulnerabilities and insecurities he had refused to acknowledge clawed their way to the surface. How was it that they could share so many moments yet stand so utterly apart? The tension between them had shifted, now a weapon forged of resentment and longing, and he couldn’t tell if it was meant to hurt or to heal.

The air in the dimly lit room crackled with tension, a palpable undercurrent as she leaned back against the bar, a playful smile dancing on her lips. He stood rigid, a storm brewing inside him, every laugh that escaped her only serving to stoke the flames of his frustration. Her laugh—light and airy—felt like a slap to his face, igniting a fury he didn’t fully understand. His fingers curled into fists, his nails biting into his palms as he gritted his teeth.

"You were obsessed with me," he said, the words escaping his lips like venom. "You chased after me for the longest time, even when all I did was insult you and tell you no."

Her response was laced with sarcasm, infuriatingly calm. "Yeah. I’m aware." She rolled her eyes, the amusement in her tone cutting deeper than any insult could. The way she carried herself, so detached and yet vibrant, made the air thicken with an unspoken challenge. "And? Did you expect me to stay ‘obsessed’ with you forever?"

He felt his blood boil, each casual laugh of hers striking a nerve. It was as if she were mocking him, dismissing everything they had once shared, reduced to mere jokes. "I expected you to care," his voice dropped to a low murmur, laden with the weight of unfulfilled emotions as he locked his gaze onto hers, searching for any hint of regret, any sign of the girl he once knew so well.

The moment hung between them, electric and charged, until her smile softened, a fleeting glimpse of vulnerability breaking through her facade. She tilted her head, regarding him with a mixture of pity and something else he couldn’t decipher. "I did care. And I paid the price."

In that instant, his heart stuttered. The walls he had built around his emotions began to crumble under the raw honesty in her gaze. She had cared, and yet somewhere along the way, the passion he had craved had turned cold, and now it was as if they were two strangers in a missed connection, trapped in the ruins of a past neither could escape.

Drew leaned against the polished wood of the bar, his heart racing as he watched her. The light that had once danced in her eyes—so bright and full of affection—had flickered out, leaving only an unreadable expression. She had once been head over heels for him, but now she seemed to regard him like a stranger.

He swallowed hard, feeling the weight of his emotions settle in his throat. “If you cared,” he said, his voice quiet yet laced with desperation, “then how could you just stop caring? Just like that?”

She turned slightly, her eyes drifting back to him with an unsettling calmness. “I realised my worth,” she replied, an edge in her voice. “Met someone who could handle the way I loved.”

Her casual tone felt like a slap to his face, and he could feel his blood begin to boil beneath his skin. With every word she spoke, the anger rolled through him like an incoming tide, threatening to drown his better judgement. “So I wasn’t… good enough?” he asked, his voice dropping to a whisper, ice forming around his words. “I couldn’t handle you?”

“Yes. You treated me like shit, and we were only just friends,” she shot back, the bruise of her words hitting him hard. “You used to laugh with Odessa about the fact that I genuinely loved you. So no, Drew. You definitely don’t have the maturity to love the way I do.”

He could hardly breathe as the truth of her words hung in the air between them, heavy and unforgiving. The burden of their history crashed down on him—a million moments, a myriad of shared laughter, shattered in an instant. She downed her glass, the sound resonating like a closing chapter, and turned to walk away.

The sight of her retreating silhouette ripped through him. Drew froze for a moment, the realisation settling cold in his chest. She was walking away as if their connection had meant nothing, and that thought cut deeper than he wished to acknowledge. Her casual dismissal ignited a fury inside him; the anger morphed into desperation, and he felt something inside him snap.

As she moved effortlessly towards the hallway, her head held high, it felt like the final straw. The need for confrontation surged forth, drowning out his reservations. With a swift movement, he slammed his glass onto the bar, the noise cutting through the murmur of the crowd like a scream.

“Wait!” he called out, pushing himself to his feet and following her, determination pooling in his gut.

Each stride felt like a battle against the storm of emotions swirling in his chest. He navigated through the dim corridor behind her, heart pounding as his thoughts raced. The shadows around them seemed to warp and bend, echoing the spiralling connection they once had.

The hallway stretched before them like a chasm, a barrier between desire and heartbreak. She sauntered forward, each step purposeful, her mind focused on escape—the lift at the end of the corridor promising a momentary sanctuary from the eruption of emotions that swirled inside her. But behind her footsteps, the sound of his hurried movement pierced through the tension, igniting a flame of defiance within her.

Drew was relentless, his heart pounding in sync with the fury that ignited his every nerve ending. He chased after her with an urgency that seemed almost desperate. Reaching out, he grasped her arm roughly, pulling her back so that she faced him, their eyes locking in a collision of unrefined emotion.

“You didn’t even deny that you loved me,” he accused, his harsh tone slicing through the air between them. The fiery intensity of his gaze burned into her, but beneath it lay a tumult of guilt and regret that he couldn’t hide.

She stared back, unflinching. “I don’t have to deny it. I did love you, Drew. I’m not ashamed of that,” she snapped, her voice rising in defiance. “The only thing I’m ashamed of is all those damn years I spent being your friend, putting up with your ungrateful ass while you treated me like I was gum beneath your shoe when Odessa was around.”

With a fierce yank, she pulled her arm from his grasp, stepping back, the distance between them not just physical but emotional, an abyss that felt insurmountable.

In that moment, realisations flooded over him like a wave. He couldn’t deny what she was saying. The truth struck him hard—he had treated her poorly, clinging to denial and ignorance while pushing away the very love and adoration she had offered without condition. The weight of his actions bore down on him, a heavy cloak of regret that he felt unworthy to wear.

But his anger was a tangled mess, fueled by more than just her accusation. He was furious, not only at her for seemingly moving on but at himself for being the one who had driven her away. Matted feelings of jealousy and inadequacy mingled within him, and he seethed in frustration. How could she have let go so easily? How could she walk away when he suddenly longed for her presence?

As silence enveloped them, punctuated only by the soft ticking of time, she shook her head in disbelief, capturing his attention. He stood there, dumbstruck, the expression on his face a painful mix of confusion and vulnerability that sent waves of exasperation coursing through her.

Ugh, she thought, incredulity taking over. The sight of him standing there, lost and torn, made her roll her eyes in irritation. She turned away, dismissing the pull of his despair.

With a storm of unresolved tension swirling around them, Drew’s grip tightened as he spun her back to face him, the weight of his anger palpable in the air. The wall was cool against her back, a stark contrast to the fire igniting in her chest.

“Don’t walk away when I’m talking to you,” he growled, his voice a low rumble that echoed in the narrow hallway.

In response, she felt the fury that had simmered for too long rise to the surface, bursting forth in a desperate rage.

“I should have turned my back on you ages ago!”

The words shot out of her mouth, a battle cry against the years of pain and frustration buried deep in her heart. In a moment fueled by raw emotion, she shoved him away with all the strength she could muster.

The force of her push stunned him, a harsh scoff escaping his lips as he stumbled back, disbelief momentarily erasing the anger etched on his face. But the shock quickly transformed into something far more potent—a surge of rage that pulsed through his veins like wildfire.

“You don’t get to just shove me like that!” he shouted, his jaw clenched, hands curling into fists at his sides. Drew stepped toward her again, closing the gap, invading her space. “You should’ve run from me a long time ago.”

“Well I did it now, haven’t I?!” The incredulity in her voice matched the intensity in her eyes. “And I’m SO glad you’re not in my life anymore—“

Her laughter, sharp and scornful, cut through the tension like a knife. She placed a hand on her heart, mocking the very relief she felt.

“I mean seriously—I’m so glad I am not faced with having to deal with your bitch boy attitude anymore—“ She snapped at him, the words infused with the bitterness of their shared history.

His breaths quickened, tension coiling tightly in his chest. This was not how their exchanges used to go; usually, she wouldn’t strike so hard or hit so true. She was saying the kind of things that would’ve rolled off his back once, but now they burrowed beneath his skin, igniting the innate frustration refocusing his fury.

“Yeah, you’re so relieved,” he shot back, his voice low and edged with venom, his eyes locked onto hers with an intensity that could ignite a fire. “Because you’ve found someone else now, right? Someone who can handle all your BULLSHIT!”

“Yeah, ya know what? I did!” she retorted, each word an arrow aimed straight at his heart. “And he is so much better than you as a person! Because you suck! You suck, Drew! You’re only nice to people you CHOOSE to be nice to!”

They stood there, their voices overlapping in a symphony of anguish and wrath. Each accusation only fueled the other’s fire, a volcanic eruption of raw feelings that had been trapped beneath the surface for too long.

“Look at you,” he spat, his hands shaking slightly as the fury coursed through him, battling against the flicker of vulnerability that threatened to break free. “You think you’ve found better, but I know this is all you’ve got. You think you can just toss me aside like yesterday’s trash?”

She shook her head, disbelief mingling with irritation. “You were the one who treated me like that! You made me feel like I was nothing, like I didn’t even matter. And now you’re angry because I finally left?”

There was a silence, charged with the weight of everything unspoken, their breaths mingling in the tense air as they stared each other down.

Drew’s heart raced, his insides a whirlwind of regret and unresolved longing. “You just don’t get it, do you?” he murmured, the bitterness in his tone fading ever so slightly. “I pushed you because I didn’t know how—how to deal with how I felt. I didn’t mean to—”

“Didn't mean to what? Hurt me?” She interjected fiercely, crossing her arms defiantly. “You didn’t think I deserved more?”

The truth in her accusation hung heavy between them, and Drew clenched his jaw, the realisation hitting him like a punch to the gut.

“Maybe I didn’t,” he admitted, voice dropping to a whisper, tinged with the bitterness of truth, “but I’m not okay with how this ended. With you hating me.”

The subtle change in his demeanour caught her off guard, causing her to falter for a brief moment before the armour of anger enveloped her once again. "Hate you? No, Drew, I can’t hate someone who never gave me the chance to matter.”

And with that, the fight seemed to deflate, leaving a hollow echo of what had been. Their breaths mingled in the air, emotions boiling just beneath the surface, each of them facing the remnants of their once unbreakable bond.

The fluorescent lights flickered overhead, casting a cold glow over the small, confined space where tension had accumulated like a storm cloud. With each breath taken, the air thickened, pregnant with unspoken words and grudges long held.

“You think he’s so kind?” Drew spat, his voice dripped with scorn as he advanced, changing the subject and closing the distance between them until their bodies nearly touched. “So sweet and gentle? He probably lets you walk all over him!”

“Walk all over him?” she shot back, incredulity fueling her retort. “Is that your critique? Because if anyone knows about being pushed around, it’s you!" The memories swirled—a past of her always acquiescing and succumbing to his whims, even when they were merely friends. “You let Odessa walk all over you, and now, you think you’ve earned the right to judge me?”

A flicker of hurt crossed his features at the mere mention of Odessa. His jaw clenched tightly as her words stung like barbs. The fact they were even being compared grated on him, invoking a deep, seething anger that coursed through his veins.

“Don’t pretend to understand my relationship with her,” he shot back, his fists clenching at his sides, his presence a looming shadow.

“You don’t know anything about me!” she replied, each word like a bullet aimed at his heart. “Stay in your lane, Starkey.”

He leaned closer, the heat of their animosity palpable. “You brought up my relationship first,” he hissed. “Is it jealousy that has you acting like this?”

“Jealous? Of what?” she spat incredulously, the disbelief evident in her tone. “Your irresponsibility? Your immaturity? Your utter disregard for anyone but yourself?”

“Jealous,” he reiterated, the word hanging heavily in the air between them. “Jealous because I never cared about you like you cared about me. You wasted years of your life chasing after a guy who never saw you for who you are.”

His words pierced through her defences, causing some invisible emotional shield to crumble. For a moment, she stood there, stunned, a smile of painful acknowledgment flickering on her lips as she stepped back, her heart heavy with muted anguish.

He met her gaze and instantly recognized the devastation he’d unleashed. A realisation crashed down upon him: hurting her felt worse than he could bear. It was as if he had lost something he hadn’t even realised he valued until it began to slip from his grasp.

‘I knew this was a mistake.’ She whispered to herself.

“What are you talking about?” he murmured, the edge of his voice softening as a hint of vulnerability broke through his bravado. He searched her eyes for some reassurance, for signs that the damage wasn’t as profound as he feared.

“You are my biggest mistake,” she whispered with quiet finality, stepping away from him, leaving a chasm filled with their unspoken words.

The truth of her statement sent chills racing through him, and the realisation unsettled him. He had chased after her anger, thrived on her attention, yet now was confronted with the stark reality that the chase had come at a devastating cost. “What?” The word escaped his lips in a breath, almost a plea.

“I wish I’d never met you.” The weight of her words pressed upon him like a leaden shroud. “You’re a bad person, Drew. I can’t believe I fell in love with you.”

His chest constricted painfully, as if she had reached deep within and squeezed the very essence of him. Here was a woman who had loved him, who had given and sacrificed, and he couldn’t recall ever treating her with the reverence she deserved.

“Yeah. You and me both,” he replied, the bitterness in his tone betraying a deeper fracture seeping through.

An oppressive silence stretched between them, heavy with unfulfilled longing and regret. The air crackled with tension as he finally summoned the courage to ask what he’d long avoided. “Why do you think I’m a bad person?”

“Because you enjoy hurting me,” she said, her voice steady yet piercing.

Her honesty hit him like a wave, oppressive and unrelenting. For so long, he had struggled to understand their tumultuous connection, always toeing the line between love and contempt. She had always returned to his side, accepting his jabs as part of their cruel dance, yet in that acceptance now loomed the haunting realisation that he had reveled in her pain.

His throat constricted, the truth too heavy for denial, as he swallowed hard against the bitter tide of her words. And then she added, as if the weight couldn’t get heavier, “And you liked it when I kept coming back.”

His jaw clenched, her revelations spiralling through him like shards of glass. “Yeah, well,” he murmured, reluctantly admitting defeat as self-loathing crept into his heart. “You always did.”

“Because I loved you,” she replied, a wistful tone mingling with the bitterness of those memories.

The admission landed like a heavy stone, ricocheting wildly within him. She had poured forth her heart, unearthing a part of her he felt dangerously unworthy of. “How could you have ever loved me?” he whispered, barely audible against their shared past.

“I don’t know.” The shrug she offered was faint, the defeat palpable.

“Maybe you’re just stupid,” he snapped, the bitterness rolling off his tongue like poison, but it was directed at himself as much as her.

“Don’t take it out on me because you’re angry with yourself, Drew.”

She turned, moving to leave, yet he caught her wrist, pulling her back, both pained and desperate. “You don’t get to judge me!” he growled, the edge returning to his voice, his grip a frantic plea for her to stay.

“Judge you? You think this is me judging you?” She scoffed, the lightning tension between them palpable. “I’m just pointing out the facts, asshole!”

“Don’t call me that,” he warned, his voice low, not wanting to lose her, even as he felt the weight of his own words pressing against his conscience.

“Well? What’s that to you? That’s in the past, Drew! I don’t love you anymore!” she shouted, the truth of it cutting through the spiralling chaos.

“Good!” he snapped back, a childish retort, fueled by anger rather than sense. “I never loved you!”

“Great!” she responded, the sharpness in her voice echoing his emotions, yet hers felt like a sword piercing through.

“Fine!” he exploded, even gathering up the remnants of his anger. “You were just a nuisance to me, I tolerated you! You were a good little lapdog, always ready, but I never loved you. I never will!”

As his words ricocheted back at her, she blinked rapidly, her heart a battlefield of anger and disappointment.

He held her gaze, the tumult of self-loathing spilling over. She’d always been there, nurturing and steadfast, but he had carelessly dismissed her. “You were convenient,” he spat. “I only kept you around when I needed you.”

Without thinking, she yanked her arm free from him, feeling the rush of freedom. “Thank you. This is exactly what I needed from you,” she said, sarcasm dripping from her words, a protective armour pulled tight around her heart.

He winced, anger and frustration flooding his veins again. She was turning away, and a wild impulse kicked within him, wanting her back, yet all he could muster was a jaded response. “You’re welcome,” he retorted, crossing his arms defiantly.

“Great!” She pressed the lift button with a force that echoed the tumult within their hearts.

The atmosphere in the elevator was charged with tension, heavy enough to suffocate. He stood still, arms crossed defiantly over his chest, eyes fixed on her as she furiously jabbed at the buttons. Each clang echoed in the confined space, a symphony of frustration. It was self-destructive, he knew that—he was playing the villain and hurting her on purpose. But deep down, beneath layers of pent-up anger and regret, a soft voice whispered a desperate hope: let this moment stretch.

“Fucking—fuck—” She cursed under her breath, her voice laced with irritation, each word like a knife slicing through the heated silence.

He couldn't help but observe her with a mixture of anger and concern, the way her fist clenched around the metal button, the sharp exhalations that escaped her lips. His heart raced as he internally warred with himself, torn between the urge to reach out and the need to remain aloof.

BANG. BANG. BANG. She slammed her palm against the buttons again, masking her tumultuous emotions under a façade of fury, but he could see right through it.

With a gesture of resolve, he loosened his arms, letting his hand drift delicately toward her wrist. The moment felt electric, the air vibrating with unspoken truths. “Stop,” he commanded, his voice gravelly, a plea disguised as an order. “Stop hitting the goddamn button. The elevator’s not going to come any faster.”

“Fuck you,” she shot back, rolling her eyes with enough disdain to match the fury swirling around them.

He knew he had it coming—the searing rebuke was hers to give. But the words clawed at him, stirring something dark and volatile within. “I know I deserve that,” he admitted through gritted teeth, trying to suppress the anger simmering beneath his surface. “But you need to stop acting like a toddler.”

“You don’t know what you deserve,” she retorted, her eyes flashing with indignation. “You deserve to have someone take a shit in your mouth for how filthy you speak to me.”

A wide grin crept across her face as she delivered her insult, but he felt a flicker of admiration amidst the anger. “Yeah? Well maybe you deserve to have somebody take a piss down your throat,” he snapped back, unable to stop the venom slipping from his lips.

“Please, I’m not the one who can’t make a decision on his own because he's too busy with his thumb up his ass like a good little boy,” she shot right back, the mocking tone hanging in the air like thick smoke.

Her words dug deep into him, striking a nerve he thought he had buried. The truth stung, a bitter taste in his mouth. “I never had any trouble making a decision when it came to you,” he countered fiercely. “I chose Odessa over you every single time!”

“Oh brother, say something new. Ya boring,” she scoffed, impervious to the storm clouds brewing in his chest.

Heat ignited within him, a furnace of rage fueled by her calm demeanour. She was infuriatingly nonchalant, dismissing everything he said as if it were little more than a passing breeze. He stepped forward, closing the distance until they were inches apart. “You're a pathetic, annoying pest,” he snarled. “You were always buzzing around me, pestering me. YOU always did what i asked, i never asked for your help”

“Exactly, because you’ve never had to work for anything, I always did it for you. Seriously, you couldn’t even send back food without me.” she laughed mockingly, but the laughter echoed with an undercurrent of pain.

What she said ricocheted around his mind. It was true, but hearing her articulate it so plainly made him feel exposed, like an open wound. “Yeah, maybe I’ve never had to work,” he admitted grudgingly, “but I’ve never lowered myself to being a doormat. I’ve never let myself love someone so blindly to let them treat me like dirt.”

“So, you do acknowledge that you are a bad person?” she taunted, a smirk playing across her lips.

His heart lurched at the truth of it, and he flinched. The walls he'd built to protect himself began to crumble. “Yeah, I’m a pretty shitty person,” he snapped. “Is that what you want to hear?”

“It’s exactly what I wanted to hear. You are such a pushover, and you do exactly what people say because you can’t think for yourself. Exhibit A!” She gestured between them theatrically, but the underlying pain was evident.

Her words struck like daggers, twisting deep inside him. “A pushover?! You’re one to talk!” He stepped closer, fists clenching tighter as he confronted her. “You spent years following me around. You never once had the guts to say no, to stand up for yourself!”

“Well, I’m standing tall for myself now, and you can’t stand it!” she yelled, eyes blazing with defiance. “Because you cannot live in a world where I am not obsessed with you! Admit it! You want me to still be in love with you!”

A moment of silence engulfed them after her words. It felt as if the air had been sucked out of the hallway as reality hung heavy between them. His chest tightened, and he was left grappling with the realisation that maybe she was right.

He took a step back as laughter filled the silence, but it wasn't joyous; it was strained and bitter. She was right; she was strong now, but somewhere within him, that nagging ache for her was still alive. He clenched his jaw, frustration and yearning warring within him, and as the weight of the moment settled over both of them, he realised there was no escaping the mess they had created together.

Drew stood there, his breath catching in his throat, as she faced him defiantly. The tension hung between them like a thick fog, almost suffocating. Her stance was strong, unwavering, and it filled him with a strange mix of emotions. A wave of relief washed over him at the realisation that she wouldn’t back down, that she still had the fire he’d once admired. But then she pierced him with her words—you want me to still be in love with you—and it hit him like ice water on his skin, jolting him with its truth.

“Why the hell would I want you to still be in love with me? What would I gain from that, huh?” he snapped, bitterness spilling from his lips as he tried to mask the tightening in his chest.

“I dunno, Joseph. You’re the one who feels that way,” she shrugged, the movement light and dismissive, her back now turned to him as she turned toward the elevator doors. A part of him wanted to scream, to chase after her, but he stood rooted to the spot, anger and frustration coursing through him.

“I do not!” The words left his mouth harsher than intended, and before he knew what was happening, his hand shot out, grabbing her wrist with a mix of desperation and rage.

“I don’t—” he started, but just as quickly as the words began to flow, they rushed to a stop. The air felt thick, and he swallowed hard, grappling with himself in a torrent of conflicting thoughts.

“Don’t. What?” she growled, her eyes narrowing, a challenge simmering just beneath the surface, daring him to continue.

Every heartbeat thundered in his ears as he fought against the tremor in his voice. “I don’t… I—” He was caught in a web of his own making, words choking him, the truth stinging at the back of his mind.

“What? Say it. Open that pretty mouth and say it.” She raised her eyebrows, mocking him, her tone dripping with the satisfaction of having backed him into a corner.

He hesitated, that penetrating stare causing him to falter. She was right there, baiting him, and yet the truth felt like a heavy stone lodged in his throat. All he could do was swallow again, helpless, his heart racing so violently he thought it might just burst from the strain. He felt trapped, cornered by her words and his own emotions.

“Fuck you,” he retorted, his gaze fierce as it locked onto hers. But even as he said it, the strength behind the words felt flimsy, like a wounded puppy trying to growl.

“Yeah. That’s what I thought,” she tilted her head, her expression one of triumphant satisfaction, as if she held all the strings in this dangerous game they were playing.

Drew felt the weight of her gaze, each heartbeat echoing the truth he was too afraid to voice. She was right. Somewhere deep down, he craved her affection, wanted her to still care. Her indifference cut deeper than any insult, striking at the core of who he was.

Drew clenched his jaw, palpable frustration radiating from his rigid frame. His hands curled tightly into fists at his sides, each knuckle white with agitation. How dare she stand there so calmly, so smugly, while he wrestled with the turmoil inside?

But there she was, unyielding and unapologetic, challenging his authority without uttering a single word. It set off a fire within him, a mix of anger and an inexplicable allure that drew him toward her. The thought of her defiance sent a surge of adrenaline coursing through him. He needed to regain control.

With a sudden movement, he stepped forward, closing the space between them. Before she could react, he wrapped his arm around her waist and yanked her against his chest, trapping her in his hold.

"What the—" she gritted out, shocked and bewildered.

The moment she pressed against him, warmth radiating from her body, it was like a flicker igniting a flame within him. Here she was, against him, familiar yet inexplicably foreign. Beneath all the fighting and the harsh words, this was an undeniable truth: he had missed this physical connection.

He swallowed hard, battling a tumult of emotions, his heart racing in sync with the electric tension. Looking down into her wide eyes, he realised he was losing his composure. In a raw, hoarse whisper, he muttered, “Just shut up.”

“Make me!” she snapped back, her eyes gleaming with challenge.

Drew’s breath hitched at her audacity, the defiance only stoking the fire of his frustration and something deeper, something he had no intention of admitting to himself.

The elevator dinged, an unsettling sound that reverberated through the hallway, but the tension between them was far thicker than any surrounding noise. He stood there, fury and desire coiling within him like a tightly wound spring, and before he could even think about what he was doing, he acted on impulse, grabbing her and pulling her harshly against him.

“What the—” The words barely escaped her lips before he cut her off, crashing his mouth against hers with a fervour that could set the world ablaze. The kiss was anything but tender; it was a maelstrom of frustration, resentment, and longing. His tongue slipped into her mouth, tasting her as though he were drowning in the very essence of her.

She pushed weakly against his chest, her breath hitching as his lips moved fervently, a mix of anger and passion improvising a wild rhythm between them. Did she hate him? Did she even know? It was all an emotional hurricane—his heart raced to scary, new peaks while his mind spun backward into memories of every argument, every tense word exchanged that had led to this very moment.

He couldn’t restrain the frustrated noise that slipped from his throat as she struggled. With a sudden, voracious need, he shifted his grip, letting go of her chin only to tangle his fingers in her dark hair. He tilted her head back, forcing her to surrender, deepening the kiss fervently while their breaths intertwined, filled with desperation.

Then, as if hours had passed, he pulled away, just long enough to gasp for breath, a fine line of saliva tethering them like a fragile connection that felt both thrilling and terrifying. His gaze locked onto hers, and in that instant, he caught a glimpse of disbelief painted across her features, her lipstick smudged and her wild hair dishevelled, an intoxicating sight that made his heart thunder violently.

She blinked slowly, eyes wide in shock, tracing the remnants of their kiss that lingered on his bottom lip. A full rush of heat surged through him—not of embarrassment but a quickened realisation. He hadn’t captured her to silence her; he had kissed her because, for that single moment, he couldn't contain the need anymore. He wanted her, wanted to bridge the chasm of emotion that surrounded them.

“I…,” she stammered, then broke away, forcibly shoving him from her as she stared at her hand, as if it could shield her from the reality of what had just happened. "What the hell was that?"

He watched her scramble, the panic on her face igniting an uncontrollable anger within him. How dare she act as if she could erase this moment? The space between them wobbled with unsaid words and unresolved feelings. His heart wasn't sorry, nor was his body, but his frustration boiled hotter, mingling with the unwanted sensation of regret. He took a step towards her.

“Don’t—” She snapped, pointing at him in a desperate demand to stay back, but it only sent a flash of indignation through his veins. He wasn’t about to yield.

“Don’t tell me what to do,” he growled, a rough edge sharpening his tone. Each step he took toward her amplified the tension, the space constricting tighter around them like a noose.

“Fuck you!” she shot back, anger and disbelief casting sharp daggers in her eyes as she thrust her hands into the air.

He couldn’t contain a twisted smile that bled more contempt than amusement. It rippled through him, igniting everything. “No, you fuck you. You’re the one acting like you didn’t enjoy it too. Don’t pretend you have any moral high ground here!”

“God! You’re so fucking delusional!” Her words hung between them, heavy with anger and frustration, every syllable echoing an undeniable truth that tied together all that they had become.

They were caught in an unyielding storm, each determined to stand their ground, knowing that the truth lay just beneath the surface, waiting to erupt.

The air between them crackled with electricity, thick and oppressive, as he stood there, eyes blazing with an intensity that hung heavy in the small space surrounding them. The lingering taste of their kiss was the last remnant of what had just transpired, yet here they were, locked in a battle of words that mirrored their entwined feelings.

“You’re delusional if you’re trying to tell me that you didn’t just forget every single thing for a moment when I kissed you,” he snapped, his heart pounding in a rhythm that echoed the truth he was reluctant to face. He was painfully aware of her reaction—not just in her eyes, wide with disbelief, but how her body had yielded to his just moments before. She had enjoyed it, just as much as he had.

“You—” Her voice trembled with a furious indignation that only seemed to stoke the flames fanning within him. “You—GOD!” The words rushed from her lips in an exasperated gasp.

He revelled in the way confusion painted her features, watching as she grappled for words through the haze of frustration. It was a twisted satisfaction he couldn’t deny; she had become a puzzle he had long wished to solve, and he felt utterly triumphant at having thrown her off balance.

“God—you know why I would never date you!?” Her finger jabbed in the air, punctuating her rhetorical question like a knife.

“Why?” He shot back, a scoff escaping him, his fists coiling into tight balls at his sides. He could already predict her answer, but he craved to hear her voice it. This was the moment he had yearned for—her cornered, finally stripped of her defences, with nowhere to run.

“Because YOU. DRIVE ME. NUTS. STARKEY!” she screamed, her fury palpable, as her nose nearly brushed against his.

“And you—” he retorted with ferocity, “drive me nuts! You make me crazier than anyone else in this entire world! You, with your big eyes and stupid dark hair and your dumb laugh and goddamn stupid smile! You drive me insane, Y/N, and you have for years!”

The words were tumbling out of him, each one ratcheting up the tension between them, an unfiltered outburst of pent-up emotion.

“Yeah?! Well it sure sounds like you’re obsessed with me!” she yelled back, fire blazing behind her eyes, daring him to deny it.

“I am obsessed with you!” he shot back, his voice going an octave higher, the veil of carefully guarded emotions finally torn away. “I’m obsessed with the fact that you followed me around for years and I never realised that you were in love with me! And now that I do know, I can’t do anything about it because you’ve finally moved on!”

The words hung in the air like an ominous cloud, and as they slipped from his mouth, he felt a moment of disorientation, stumbling as her expression shifted from anger to pure disbelief.

“What?!” she managed to utter, her eyes wide, searching his face for any sign that this was a cruel joke.

He abruptly stopped shouting, taking a step back, a bewildered silence enveloping them. He hadn’t intended to let that slip, hadn’t meant to lay bare the vulnerability buried deep inside of him. But there it was, floating between them and demanding acknowledgement.

“You heard me,” he said, voice low and rough, the weight of his confession settling over them like a heavy cloak.

Y/N’s incredulous look bore into him, a tumult of emotions swirling in her gaze—shock, anger, realisation, and perhaps something more unabashedly raw. It was all there, and for the first time, he could see the layers of misunderstanding beginning to peel away. She opened her mouth to respond, but no words came, leaving them suspended in that moment, the world outside forgotten, as the truth hung like a thread dangling waiting to be pulled taut.

“No. No, I don’t think so.”

Her voice was steady, defiant, as she crossed her arms, every muscle in her body radiating cold rejection. He could feel her glare cut through the air between them like a knife, sharp and unyielding.

He clenched his jaw, grappling with the pounding in his chest as he took a step closer, invading her space. “Yes, you did,” he shot back, his voice sharp and strained. “You heard me; you just don’t want to admit it.”

“I did hear you. I also know that you’re a big fat liar, and I fucking hate you,” she snapped, the words biting and raw, echoing with her fury.

“I’m a liar?” His voice lifted incredulously, eyes narrowing in disbelief. “You think I’m lying when I say that I’m obsessed with you? That you drive me nuts? I’m being honest—for the first goddamn time in my life!”

“Well, I don’t believe you! Because you’re a liar.” Her voice quaked, and she shrugged as if her disdain could physically push him away. “And you are the worst kind of liar. Because your lies sound so much like the truth that it’s impossible for me to tell the difference.”

Her words struck deep, and for a moment, silence loomed between them. He felt his chest heave under the weight of her accusation—she had hit too close to home. She was right: he was good at weaving deception into convictions so convincing they could easily ensnare even the sharpest minds. But with her, that manipulation folded under the pressure of something more profound and real, something he couldn’t fabricate.

“I’m not lying,” he managed to breathe, his voice a rough whisper, each syllable laced with urgency.

“I. Don’t. Fucking. Believe. You.” She seethed, her nose nearly brushing against his, every word a challenge, a proclamation laced with the tumult between them.

He could feel the intensity of her gaze, the fire and disbelief swirling in her eyes, leaving no room for doubt. She was so close that every detail of her—every curve, every quirk—was amplified in his vision, and with the intoxicating scent of her skin flooding his senses, he fought a desperate urge gnawing at him.

And yet, beneath the fury and resentment, something deeper shimmered in her gaze—a flicker of vulnerability that tugged at his heart. Goddamnit, he wanted her more than he'd ever allowed himself to admit.

“God, look at you,” he muttered, his eyes sweeping across her face, drinking in every nuance of her expression, grappling with how close they were. She was a force of nature, fierce and untamed, and at that moment, he couldn’t take it anymore.

The world around them faded into oblivion; all that remained was the air swelling between them, thick with unresolved tension. He took another step forward, closing the space between them completely, surrendering to the magnetic pull that drew him to her.

As she inhaled deeply, he felt it. The moment hung suspended in time as she leaned in, eyes fluttering shut, and that was it—he broke. All restraint slipped through his fingers like loose sand. He was done with the self-imposed barriers, the hesitant games.

He cupped her face in his hands, capturing her mouth in a fierce, passionate kiss that demanded response. It was desperate and needy, an unguarded collision of emotions that echoed the storm brewing in his soul.

Her reaction was instant—a gasp escaping into his lips as her hands clenched tightly against his dress shirt, caught in the whirlwind of conflicting feelings. Part of her wanted to push him away, to reject everything she felt—and yet, another part was drawn to him, willing to pull him closer, to drown in this moment that teetered between love and hatred.

They were no longer debating the lies; instead, they were entwined in something he had tried to keep buried for far too long. With every push and pull, every heated breath, the truth that had been hiding in the shadows came rushing forth, demanding to be acknowledged. And now, there was no turning back.

He groaned low in his throat, the sound muffled against her lips as she gasped. But he didn’t pull away. No, instead, he pushed himself against her, feeling the heat radiating off her body. His hand slid into her hair, tugging gently but insistently, as if to remind her how long he had been waiting for this moment, how hungry he was—for her.

Months of pent-up desire unleashed in a feverish kiss, rough and unapologetic. He plunged his tongue into her mouth, deep and urgent, while his other hand slipped beneath the neck of her dress, skimming over the bare skin of her shoulder.

She reluctantly sighed into his lips, pouring out all the anger and hurt that had accumulated over the months. She grasped his jaw, tilting his head as she took control, kissing him back with a fervour that surprised even herself.

He groaned again, the sound rising from deep within him, and closed his eyes, wanting nothing more than to savour this moment. Finally having her in his arms ignited a fire he thought he had long extinguished. But even in this bliss, he wouldn’t concede dominance so easily; he had been waiting too long for this.

His hand slid from her cheek down to her throat, holding her in place, arching her neck back slightly, a silent command for her to surrender to him.

Her lips parted in pleasure beneath the sweet pressure of his grip on her neck.

He seized the opportunity, pushing deeper with his tongue, pulling her flush against him, their bodies merging. The heat between them blazed, and he let out an involuntary growl at how wild this felt, how desperately he craved her.

“Drew—” She panted against his mouth, feeling dizzy with hunger and want, squeezing his hand around her throat lightly, as if daring him to tighten his hold even more. She had forgotten the world outside, the blaring music from the after-party just a few feet away. All that existed was him and this intoxicating moment.

Her moan was a siren’s call, so deliciously erotic it stole his breath. He felt his fingers grip her throat tighter, and when he opened his eyes slightly, he registered the reality where they still stood in the hallway. The thought of someone witnessing their gasps and murmurs sent a thrill mixed with a touch of anxiety coursing through him.

He wanted her with an urgency that was bordering on madness, but this wasn’t the place. Reluctantly, he pulled back, panting heavily as he spoke, his voice growling with need. “Come to my room.”

Dazed, she blinked lazily up at him, confusion flitting through her. “What?”

The whisper fell from her lips as her hand tangled further in his tousled hair, an instinctual plea for him to come closer again, to kiss her.

He saw the need in her gaze, the way her hand curled through his hair, and it almost broke him. Almost. But he fought the urge, forcing himself to maintain some semblance of composure. His hand slipped from her throat, a wary truce—or perhaps a promise of what was to come.

“My room,” he repeated, his voice deep and almost primal, as he nodded towards the elevator down the hall. “Come with me.”

She closed my eyes, surrendering to the pull of his voice and the electricity crackling between them, letting him guide her.

In that instant, he released her, intertwining his fingers with hers, a tangible connection that anchored them both. Desire thrummed in his veins as he tugged her toward the elevator, every instinct screaming for him to kiss her again, to press her against the wall and lose himself in her. But he forced himself to stay calm, though his heart raced in anticipation, each beat echoing with the promise of what awaited in his room.

The elevator doors opened with a soft ding, and together they stepped inside, the cramped space encasing them like a cocoon of unfiltered tension. The world outside was a distant murmur—one filled with laughter, music, and vibrant life—but here, it was just them and the palpable hunger that hung in the air, waiting to be unleashed.

The moment the elevator doors slid closed, a wave of urgency surged between them. He backed her up against the back wall, his firm body pinning her in place, his hand resting powerfully beside her head. With every breath, he could feel the space between them charged, electric.

His chest heaved with anticipation as his eyes traced her features, roaming from her flushed lips to the vulnerable skin of her neck, and lower, where the tantalising edge of her backless dress teased his senses.

He couldn’t wait anymore.

Y/N sighed into his lips, feeling the heat of his body pressing into her as her hands explored the tantalising contours of his shoulders, feeling the rigid muscles beneath his suit as she hopelessly leaned into him. Y/N’s backless dress shifted as he pulled her closer, their bodies colliding in a passionate urgency.

A low growl rumbled in his throat with every stroke of her hands over his back, and he kissed her harder, capturing her mouth in a possessive and desperately needy embrace. When she sighed against him, letting her fingers trail up over his stomach, something inside him snapped, igniting a wild hunger. His hands began to roam her back, fingers sliding beneath the fabric of her dress, caressing the skin of her bare back with a fervour that bordered on madness.

Y/N arched into him, surrendering completely as she kissed him as sloppily and fervently as she’d always wanted to. The taste of him—heady, intoxicating—consumed her completely.

His hand that had rested against the wall slipped down to grip her waist, pulling her flush against him once more. He could feel the heat of her body through their clothes, a tantalising friction that sent a rush of desire coursing through him. He ground against her as his tongue thrust roughly into her mouth, seeking something deeper, something primal. His other hand slid lower, finding her thigh, where he squeezed her delectable, soft skin.

Y/N whimpered into his lips, overwhelmed by the craving that surged through her, and when the elevator door opened, she found herself instinctively walking him backward out of the lift.

Emerging from the elevator, he allowed her to walk him backward, their bodies still locked together. He could feel her every inch pressed against him, the warmth of her skin igniting a fire within. His lips detoured from her mouth, moving downwards, kissing her jaw, then to the tantalising curve of her neck, where he found the rushing rhythm of her pulse and suckled on it hungrily.

“Room—key—Drew—key—” Y/N panted desperately, tilting her head back to give him more access to her skin, her body aching for his touch.

Frustration mingled with a raw need, and he fumbled to retrieve his key from his pocket while kissing his way down her throat, his teeth scraping over the sensitive skin where her heartbeat raced. “Fuck, I want you so bad,” he growled hoarsely, his voice low and rough with desire. He finally managed to extract the key card but was so lost in the moment that he nearly missed the slot.

She growled in frustration at his clumsiness, seizing the key card from him and swiping it swiftly, determined to get inside.

When the door swung open and they tumbled through, he fell on top of her, his entire body covering her, pressing her into the cool floor. With the weight of his desire and the overwhelming passion igniting every cell in his body, he couldn’t take it any longer.

He pressed his lips against hers, and the world around them faded into oblivion. Just the two of them remained in that intoxicating moment, tangled together in the depths of their longing—an insatiable need that demanded to be fulfilled.

Under the dim glow of the evening light, the air between them crackled with palpable tension, the world outside forgotten. It was a moment suspended in time, one where anything seemed possible and every heartbeat echoed the impending explosion of desire.

Drew's hands found the hem of Y/N's dress, a seemingly innocent movement that ignited a wildfire of longing within him. He tugged the fabric upwards, inch by tantalising inch, until it glided up her thighs, exposing the delicate lace of her underwear pressed against him. The warmth radiating from their bodies created a magnetic pull, drawing him closer as he pressed against her, his body a whisper away from hers.

“God, you feel so good, Y/N,” he breathed, the words heavy with an intoxicating mix of desperation and longing. His lips found the delicate skin of her neck, where her pulse raced beneath his touch, drawing him in like a moth to a flame.

The heat of the moment surged through her, a moan escaping her lips. “Drew…” It was both a plea and an exclamation, a desperate urge to bridge the chasm of anticipation left between them. Her hips rolled upward, seeking the friction only he could provide, her surrender evident as her head fell back against the plush carpet.

Drew focused on the intoxicating connection, each thrust of his hips eliciting primal instincts, sending waves of pleasure rippling through them both. His breath quickened, eyes darkening as he nibbled at her neck, wanting to lose himself in her, wanting her completely. “You’re driving me crazy,” he growled, his voice a low rumble as he lavished her with the affection of his lips.

Yet, amidst the fervour, a nagging voice echoed in her mind: Stop wasting time. With a spark of determination, she pushed his blazer off his shoulders, the fabric fluttering to the floor, her fingers fumbled in haste raging against the barrier separating them. “I want to feel you,” she panted, urgency edging her voice.

Drew’s response was a throaty groan, a sound that vibrated through the air between them. His fingers tightened around her thighs, igniting the fire that blazed within him. But he knew they were running out of time. He couldn’t contain himself any longer. With a swift movement, he rose to his knees, fingers finding the buttons on his dress shirt. Each button opened like a promise, revealing skin beneath, of a body yearning to be touched.

Her eyes glimmered with hunger, like a predator poised to pounce. She propped herself on her elbows, watching him almost intently, her lips parted as she savoured the sight of him shedding the fabric that separated them.

He swallowed hard, a wave of desire crashing over him at the sight of her back, bare and inviting. The way she teased him—the straps of the dress slipping down her shoulders—almost sent him spiralling into madness. “Take your dress off,” his voice was rough, almost primal, drunk on the gift she presented.

With a lazy smile, she complied, the movement slow and deliberate; it was a seduction in itself. She revealed her back, gloriously exposed, her every move pulling him deeper into a void of yearning. His eyes traced every contour of her body, captivated by the graceful arch of her back, the gentle way her shoulders shifted, the enticing curve of her waist.

The sight of her rising onto her knees was enough to send his mind racing, raw desire coiling in his stomach. Drew’s breath hitched as he moved instinctively to the button of his slacks, his heart pounding like a war drum.

Y/N lowered her face to the carpet, her back arched enticingly, a vision of perfect temptation. The growl that formed in his chest was primal, a manifestation of his desire. He could no longer resist; the intensity of the moment had taken on a life of its own.

As he lowered himself beside her, Drew’s hands found her waist, pulling her closer, the weight of their need threatening to consume them both. Time ceased to exist as they fell into each other’s orbit, two bodies uniting in a symphony of passion that awaited a crescendo.

—TIME SKIP—

In the dim light of the hotel room, a cocoon of warmth enveloped Drew and Y/N on the floor, sheets tangled around their limbs, staving off the chill of reality just outside their embrace. The air was thick with remnants of their shared moments, tangled breaths and whispered confessions hanging like incense in the air, suffusing the space with a heady sense of intimacy.

Drew surrendered to the blissful stillness, his arms cradling her against his chest, feeling the rhythmic beat of his heart sync with the soft cadence of her breathing. With his cheek resting atop her head, he inhaled deeply, intoxicated by the scent of her hair, a mixture of shampoo and something uniquely hers.

Y/N peppered kisses across his bare chest, her hair spilling like silk over him, enchanting him with every gentle touch. She was ethereal, a living embodiment of the very dreams he hadn’t dared to voice. He sighed softly, letting her warmth seep into his skin, a balm for the unresolved aches of his past. His fingers moved instinctively, tracing the delicate curvature of her waist, basking in the softness of her body pressed against his.

“Mm, hey,” he muttered, the tender sound barely escaping his lips as he caressed her skin.

“Hey yourself,” she whispered back, teasingly nibbling at his jaw, her playful gesture igniting a low groan from deep within him. He tilted his head, granting her more space, surrendering to the wave of indulgent languor that washed over him.

“Mm, I want a cigarette,” he murmured quietly, a simple desire that hung in the air like the sweet scent of their bliss.

Y/N smiled, her lips brushing his once more, igniting a fire within him that begged for more. “We can do that,” she promised sweetly, before asking, “Where’s your pack?”

With an easy confidence, he leaned forward, punctuating the moment with a nuzzle against her neck, his breath fanning against her skin as he replied, “Bathroom, on the counter. Could you get it for me?”

“Okay,” she mumbled against his lips, a teasing sparkle in her eyes as she rose, the sheet slipping down her form like a whisper. He watched her walk away, captivated by the graceful sway of her hips, the way the soft glow outlined her silhouette.

As she padded barefoot to the bathroom, Drew lingered for a moment, soaking in the serenity that followed their passion. He replayed their wild entanglement in his mind, each moment infused with unspoken words and forbidden desires. A calm settled over him that he hadn't felt in months, a rare treasure amidst the tumult of his life.

When Y/N returned, the creaking floorboards announcing her presence, Drew opened his eyes, leaning back on his palms, a smile spreading across his lips when he saw her. She was radiant, like sunlight filtering through clouds, the pack of cigarettes in one hand and a lighter in the other.

She lit one for him, and as he took the first deep drag, inhaling the smoky tendrils into his lungs, he let his gaze roam freely over her. The glow of the room found its way to her skin, illuminating the beauty before him. —I’m obsessed with you— he recalled almost wistfully, the admission coursing through his thoughts.

Y/N took his cigarette from between his lips, her soft laughter cascading through the space as she took a drag herself, her hair framing her face like a halo. The act alone sent a surge of raw need through him—she exuded an almost magnetic charm that was impossible to resist.

“What?” Y/N asked with a small smile.

“Just looking at you,” he muttered, awash in a blend of admiration and possessiveness.

“Just looking?” she teased, creeping up towards him, her delicate hand resting on his thigh as her lips approached his, igniting a fire that burned hotter with each passing second.

That playful banter shifted the atmosphere, the air thick with tension as Drew let out a breathless laugh, his heart racing. “There’s a lot more I can do than just look,” he responded, seriousness edging into his voice.

“Hmm,” she hummed, capturing his lips for a fleeting moment before playfully withdrawing. He yearned for her closeness, his hands instinctively seeking her, pulling her back into his embrace as their kisses deepened.

Amid the heat, a sudden wave of vulnerability washed over him. “Stay tonight. Please,” he whispered into the air, each word laced with desperation.

“I can’t,” she confessed, a flicker of pain betraying her steady voice as she met his gaze. “This was fun. But it can’t happen again.”

He felt the rush of hurt flood through him, the weight of her words like a physical blow. “Why?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

“Because we hate each other. It wouldn’t work between us. And besides—what about Odessa?” she explained, her voice heavy with reluctance.

The tension in the room was nearly palpable, a heavy weight that hung between them like a dark cloud. Drew's breath caught in his throat as he felt Y/N shift slightly, searching for that emotional distance that had once divided them, yet now felt as fragile as gossamer.

“I don’t hate you,” he said softly, the words sounding almost foreign in his mouth as his hand reached out, fingers brushing against her waist. It was an instinctual move, one that tethered her back to him, if only for a moment.

But as Y/N uttered Odessa’s name, he felt himself recoil slightly even without moving away. The mention of the woman he was supposed to love felt like a physical blow, and he turned his gaze from her to the ceiling, trying to avoid the piercing look in her eyes that held both hurt and clarity.

“Things have been rocky between me and Odessa for a while now… I don’t know if we’ll last,” he confessed, the confession landing heavily in the silence that stretched between them.

“Yeah—I don’t hate you either. But I don’t like you either, Drew. You really hurt me. I can’t forget that. The things you said—just tonight was a weakness,” she whispered, the vulnerability in her voice snaking straight to his heart.

Her words cut deep, and he could feel the damning truth within them. He had wound himself up so tightly that all it seemed to take was one moment of weakness—a mere slip in the gears of his carefully constructed façade—and he had let her in. He had wanted to be strong, to deny the magnetic pull between them, but here they were, two people caught in the wreckage of their past.

“I know,” he muttered, his fingers instinctively tightening around her waist. He didn't want to let her go; he couldn't face the idea of her slipping away again, not after everything they had just shared. He still couldn’t comprehend how he had lost control so completely, how the moment had come to this—she had agreed to be with him, had agreed to bare herself to him, and all the while, tangled up in the complications of their history.

“Just stay tonight,” he pleaded, a hint of desperation lacing his voice, breaking the silence between them. The air in the room felt thick, suffocating, pulling at his very chest as he attempted to keep her close. He was all too aware of how pathetic he sounded, how desperately he needed her to choose him even for an evening, but he couldn’t help himself.

“I can’t. If I stay, we’ll have sex again. What if Odessa comes up here after the party is over?” she explained softly, her voice steady even as it shattered his already-fragile composure. Her logic was undeniable, and it sent a ripple of impatience through him.

Drew’s eyes closed, and he let out a frustrated groan, teeth grinding against the discomfort clawing at him. He knew she was right—she was being rational, logical, and he was being reckless. But the thought of losing her company, of letting this moment slip through his fingers, made him feel utterly desperate.

“Just a little while longer then. Come here,” he muttered, yanking her back down towards him. He crushed his lips against hers, the kiss born from longing and need rather than passion in that moment. It was all he could think about, a primal need to feel her against him again, to dissipate the agony of reality that was threatening to pull them apart once more.

As their mouths met, he felt the world fade away, the blinding light of clarity drowned in a haze of longing. The taste of her lips rekindled the fire they had fanned for too long in the shadows—a fire he feared would only leave devastation in its wake. But for now, he didn’t care. The moment enveloped them, and all that mattered was the intoxicating warmth of Y/N, wrapped in the sheets like the complex threads of their tangled past.

Yet even as they lost themselves in each other, a creeping sense of dread clawed at the edges of Drew's mind—the knowledge that when the dawn broke, the ghosts of their mistakes would begin to hover in the light once again.

The tension in the air was thick and electric as she kissed him back, her lips moving languidly against his, each connection igniting a deeper hunger within him. The way her hands tugged at his roots sent shivers down his spine, awakening every nerve in his body. Drew groaned into her mouth, lost in the moment, returning each of her tender kisses with a mix of desperation and fervour, savouring every stolen second.

But as the kiss deepened, reality began to intrude upon their blissful refuge. Reluctantly, he pulled away, his breath coming in ragged gasps, eyes searching hers for an answer he feared he already knew. “Why? Why does it have to be a one-time thing? Why can’t we keep doing this?” He felt a pang of urgency clawing at his chest, a mix of longing and confusion.

“Because that’s called an affair,” she murmured softly, her voice a mix of teasing and pain, as her lips brushed against his ear, trailing down to suck gently on his earlobe, igniting a fire within him.

Drew’s eyes fluttered shut, overwhelmed by the sensations, the sound of her words echoing painfully in his mind. “I don’t care,” he mumbled, desperation lacing his tone. It was true. At that moment, he didn’t care about the consequences, the messy entanglements of their lives. All he could think about was her, the warmth of her body against his, the taste of her lingering on his lips.

But there was a faint voice in the background, warning him to be cautious, to think clearly. “You’re not thinking straight,” she reminded him, her hands trailing down his shoulders, instilling both comfort and chaos within him.

His heart raced as he replied again, more insistent this time, “I don’t care.” Her gentle bite on his bottom lip sent a wave of need crashing over him, blurring the lines of right and wrong even further. It was intoxicating. The desire for her felt like a drug coursing through his veins, urging him to abandon reason.

He looked into her eyes, his breath suddenly catching in his throat, his voice dropping to a near whisper filled with longing. “Please, Y/N. Just stay. No sex. I just want you.” The plea hung in the air, heavy and desperation-laden. He knew it sounded foolish, like a man clinging to the edge of a cliff, but he didn’t care.

“That’s a lie,” she replied, shaking her head, the softness in her gaze contrasting sharply with the reality of the situation. Her fingers danced along his skin, leaving trails of warmth and desire but also doubt, reminding him of the fragile state of their connection.

Drew’s heart sank at her words. He wanted to argue, to proclaim the depth of what he felt, to dismiss the methods of logic and reason that had brought them to this moment, but all he could do was stare into her eyes and wonder if the yearning could bridge the chasm between them.

Drew gazed deeply into her eyes, his heart racing as he spoke, “It’s not,” he insisted, desperation lacing his voice as her hands found their way to his shoulders—soft but steady, grounding him. “I just— I just want to hold you. I want to keep kissing you, I—” His breath hitched, words tumbling from his lips, “Please don’t go. I don’t want to go back to being at each other’s throats.”

Y/N faltered, surrendering to the weight of his plea, a sigh escaping her lips as she sunk back onto his thighs. The air between them thickened, a mixture of passion and pain, electric and heartbreaking.

“Then what do you want, Drew?” she asked softly, her voice a melange of hope and hesitation.

His heart thundered as he observed her, every detail of her etched in his mind—the way her hair fell slightly to one side, the way her lips curved when she spoke, the flicker of vulnerability in her eyes. “I want to keep doing this. I want to keep kissing you and holding you and touching you,” he confessed, the emotions spilling from him in raw waves. “I want to be able to talk to you again without wanting to strangle you.”

She broke their gaze, her thoughts swirling, and Drew could sense her resolve faltering. “That’s just who we are, Drew. We drive each other insane,” she reminded him, her voice soft yet firm, like a whisper meant to break through the tension, but it only deepened his urgency.

He shook his head, a frantic determination igniting within him. “We don’t have to be,” he argued, as if his words could alter reality, his eyes searching hers. “We can—we can learn to get along. Don’t you remember how good we used to be? You were my best friend.”

A wistful smile flitted across her lips at the memory, a fleeting moment that warmed him, a brief balm against their turbulent history. “Yeah. We were,” she admitted, her gaze softening, but doubt still lingered in the air, lingering like an unresolved note in a symphony.

Encouraged by that spark of nostalgia, Drew leaned into it, allowing a small, sad smile to graze his features. “We can be again,” he murmured, conviction lacing his words as he slowly moved his hand to her thigh, a gentle gesture imbued with longing.

But even as he made that bold move, the shadows of their past loomed large, whispering doubts and insecurities. Would they really be able to navigate their twisted history filled with resentment, lost moments, and tangled feelings? His hand rested there— a silent plea for not only closeness but for a chance at something more, something that felt so close within reach yet impossibly far away.

And in that dimly lit room, the fabric of their connection was fragile, stretched between the weight of what had been and the hope of what could be. Drew held his breath, feeling the fine edge of desperation, longing for her to take a leap with him into the uncertain darkness, to trust him once more, and to break free from the cycle of anger that had defined them for far too long.

He could feel her hesitation, the weighing of his words against the chasm of their shared history, and he silently begged her to understand. To take that leap with him. Because he couldn’t imagine a world where she walked away, where the possibility of them—however messy, however complicated—was abandoned in the silence of the night.

The mood in the room was heavy, each heartbeat echoing like a distant drum, underscoring the distance left unspoken between them. He could feel the warmth of her body so close to his, yet the chasm between their hearts was the most frigid void he had ever faced. Drew could sense it in her eyes—the hurt, the betrayal—but it was the fire of that pain that seared through him. He needed to say something, anything, to bridge the gap that had formed since the moment he had pushed her away.

The room was thick with tension, the kind that coiled like a spring, ready to snap. Drew’s heart raced as he gazed into her eyes, overwhelmed by the whirlwind of emotions cascading between them.

“It won’t be the same though,” she began, her voice a pained whisper, trembling with the weight of the memories. “You really hurt me when you rejected me so harshly, Drew. And you did it for Odessa.” With each word, the stinging in her eyes threatened to spill over, but she held back her tears, resolute.

“I know. God, I know,” he responded, his voice cracking like the fragile state of their connection. It was agony, watching pain flicker across her face, knowing he was the architect of her hurt. The chasm he'd created yawned before him, and he didn't know how to bridge it. Slowly, his hand began to inch up her thigh, desperate to soothe her anguish, and to heal the rift that had torn them apart.

“You never apologised,” she reminded him softly, her gaze unwavering.

“I’m apologising now,” he murmured back, his voice deepening with sincerity as he stared at her, his hand pausing at the crescent of her thigh. He swallowed hard, continuing, “You have no idea how long I’ve regretted that day. How many times I’ve replayed it in my mind and wished I’d handled it differently.”

“Mmm,” she nodded, urging him silently to continue, and their chemistry ignited once more. She ground against his hand, igniting a fire within him that was both thrilling and painful.

“I was an idiot,” he confessed, shaking his head shamefully as he looked deep into her eyes. “I regretted the moment I said no. God, I just wanted so badly to take it all back.”

“Tell me more,” she murmured, sinking down on him, her body pressing against him as she gripped his shoulders tightly.

He couldn’t help the groan that escaped him; it came both from his yearning for her and the heartache of their past. “I should have said yes,” he admitted, a pained resignation lacing his words. “I shouldn’t have pushed you away when you’re all I wanted to pull closer.”

“More,” she encouraged him, moving her hips with an intoxicating rhythm that nearly stole his breath.

“And I shouldn’t have been a dick,” he replied, gasping for air as she ground against him. “I shouldn’t have said—oh, God, Y/N—” His voice faltered, catching in his throat as the sheer force of his desire nearly overwhelmed him.

“And?” she teased, excitement dancing in her gaze as it egged him on.

“And I should have been gentler,” he continued, each word a confession steeped in longing. “I should have made it clear that it wasn’t because I didn’t want you. I wanted you so bad. God, Y/N, I wanted you so bad.”

“More, Drew. Tell me,” she whispered, her breath hot against him as she pushed him to the brink.

“And—” he strained, thoughts dissipating with every movement. “I-I never meant to make you feel like I didn’t want you. I did. God, I did.”

His hand crept further up her thigh, coaxing her to keep the intoxicating rhythm alive.

“Go on,” she urged, her lips grazing his as her pace quickened.

“And—and God, I hate myself for making you feel bad, for making you doubt yourself, for—” He let out a deep groan, his mind consumed with the heat of the moment. “Oh God, Y/N—”

“There you go, baby—go on—” she coaxed, tugging on his hair to pull him closer.

“And I—oh God, I-I never wanted you to think I didn’t—oh God,” he stuttered, the vulnerability in his voice nearly bringing him to his knees. The mixture of pleasure and regret sent him spiralling, his heart laid bare before her. “I love you.”

The relief of those words hung in the air, a balm soothing the wounds of their shared history. It was exactly what she wanted to hear, and as he spoke, she doubled down on her movements, a sly grin spreading across her face.

His moans grew louder, the stakes rising as she encouraged him further. “I love you so much,” he gasped, his body trembling from their fervent exchange, “I’ve never stopped loving you.”

With a triumphant grin still dancing on her lips, she pushed him to his limits, the palpable connection sparking a resolve deeper than either had anticipated. Their hearts, once fractured, now beat in sync, reverberating through the electric air, the crescendo of emotions reaching a fever pitch. The path ahead was uncertain, but in this fiery moment, they were undeniably, irrevocably bound.

The air between them was electric, charged with a tension that had festered for months, and finally, words long buried broke the surface. As she rewarded his truth with renewed vigour, Drew felt a wave of relief wash over him, mingling beautifully with the heady pleasure she was provoking. “There you go—good boy—” she murmured, and he could do nothing but surrender to the moment.

Their bodies moved together like a well-practised dance, each thrust speaking the words unsaid for too long. Drew's voice was choked with desperation when he declared, “I love you so much.” Each word was an acknowledgment of the yearning he'd harboured deep within, a confession that he had feared would never escape his lips.

Underneath the rush of emotions, she rewarded him, her own movements quickening, each thrust drawing him closer to the precipice. He was a man unravelling at the seams. “I’ve never stopped loving you,” he gasped, tears pricking at the corners of his eyes, a mix of relief and raw vulnerability dancing within him.

“Shhh,” she commanded gently, sensing how close he was. Drew’s shuddering breaths betrayed him; the waves of bliss coursing through his body were almost too much to bear. Yet he didn't want it to stop. Not now. Not ever. The anchors of their past had finally loosened, and a euphoric freedom enveloped him as he clutched her tighter.

“You love me?” she asked, her voice a gentle whisper that pierced through the haze clouding his mind.

“Yeah, I love you,” he breathed, the admission anchoring him in this moment, grounding him with a stability he had craved for so long.

But then came her words, softly spoken yet cutting deeper than the sharpest blade. “I don’t love you—”

Those words sliced through him, a cruel reminder of what had been lost, and instinct pulled him closer, burying his face into her neck, seeking solace in her warmth. “I know,” he murmured, the acceptance hitting his chest like a lead weight.

Yet amid the storm of disappointment, a glimmer of hope flickered through their haze. “But I can try to remember how,” she said, a tentative smile breaking through her vulnerability, a hesitant light in the midst of their dark past.

His grip on her tightened, fingers instinctively curling around her waist, a lifeline in turbulent waters. Hopelessness waged a war with yearning as he struggled to articulate his emotions, each breath a battle against despair. “You want to try?” His voice trembled, heavy with an almost childlike hope.

The silence hung in the air, a fragile bubble filled with every unvoiced confession and lost promise. In that moment, both of them understood: love was a journey, not a destination, and they stood on the precipice of a new beginning, teetering between fear and the desperate desire to dive in together.

“Yeah, baby. But only after you break up with Odessa,” she whispered, her voice teasing yet serious. Her movements were deliberate, pulling him closer even as the gulf between them threatened to drown them both.

His breath hitched, and he nodded, his frustration mingling with a desperate need. “I’ll—I’ll break up with her,” he stammered, urgency lacing his words. Each grind of her hips sent a shockwave through him, igniting desires he thought were buried, stifling the guilt wrapped around his heart. “I’ll break up with her tonight if you want. Just—” He groaned, surrendering to the passion between them, his arms tightening around her, their connection swirling into something electric.

“Just what, baby?” she cooed, her nails scraping lightly down his cheek, each touch sending shivers down his spine.

The question lingered in the air, but he was powerless to articulate an answer; the fire within him flared too bright, too hot to extinguish. The ache for her drowned out all rational thought. “Just—keep moving like that,” he breathed, surrendering to the glorious indulgence of their moment.

Her laughter was a melody that wrapped around him, intertwining with his desires as she shifted into a slow, deliberate grind. “Like that?” she asked seductively, every syllable brushing against his senses.

He moaned, louder this time, each sound a testament to his surrender. “Just like that,” he mumbled against her neck, his world narrowing down to the sensations coursing through him. The pleasure built like a tidal wave, crashing against any remnants of restraint.

As he lay there, body quaking from the previous release, he blinked through the haze of bliss, staring up at the ceiling as though it held the answers he sought. Reality faded into oblivion; nothing mattered but her and the warmth that enveloped them. With deft fingers, he traced her thighs, slowing, savouring the contact, each caress igniting embers that flickered to life all over again.

When she leaned down to kiss him, it was a soft, sweet connection, yet filled with promise. His hand found her cheek, a magnetic pull that kept her close, and he ignited her senses as he explored her mouth, lingering in the moment and letting the world outside slip away.

“Go break up with her. I’ll be waiting,” she said, slipping from him and into the shower, her voice echoing in his mind. The door clicked shut, and just like that, a sense of urgency surged within him.

His heart raced as he gulped down a breath, excitement colliding with a stark terror that gripped him. He scrambled off the bed, gathering the clothes strewn across the floor like remnants of a life he was ready to leave behind. Each piece felt like a chain shackling him to a life he no longer wanted.

He dressed quickly, fingers trembling as his mind ran a mile a minute. In the mirror, he paused, staring at his reflection. A part of him whispered to retreat, to forget this moment and its consequences. But he couldn’t. Not now. He felt the weight of possibility, felt the shift in his heart, a call to step into the unknown.

Taking a deep breath, he steeled himself. This was it. He would break free tonight; he would reclaim what was his. He opened the door, crossing the threshold into the unknown, determination igniting within him as he made his way toward the end of one chapter and the beginning of another.

The door creaked open, revealing Odessa, draped in a robe that did little to shield the tension hanging between them. Her eyes narrowed, suspicion glinting in their depths.

“Drew, where the hell have you—”

He didn’t give her room to finish, his voice cutting through the air like a knife. “I need to talk to you. Can I come in?”

There was a moment of hesitation as she searched his face, an eternity that seemed to stretch out as their shared history flickered in her gaze. Finally, she relented, the door swinging wider to let him in. He crossed the threshold, heart racing, palms clammy with dread.

The instant the door clicked shut behind him, he felt the weight of inevitability crashing down. “We should break up.”

The words escaped him before he could process their gravity. Odessa stood frozen, her expression morphing from shock to a raw, jagged hurt that pierced him straight through. He swallowed hard. “We’re done. It’s over.”

Silence fell, heavy and thick. She remained motionless, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears, the depth of her pain reflected in every flicker of emotion that danced across her face. It hurt him to see her like this, and yet he steeled himself, convinced that breaking her heart was far better than the agony of continuing a lie.

He took a step toward her, battling the instinct to reach out for her, to pull her close. “There’s—there’s someone else.” The admission felt like gravel in his throat, grating and uncomfortable.

Odessa’s breath stuttered, eyes wide and searching. “I—”

His hesitation echoed in the space between them, a chasm of uncertainty. “I didn’t mean for it to happen,” he confessed, anguish lacing his words. “I’m sorry—I don’t want to hurt you. But I can’t keep pretending that things are okay when they’re not. I’ve been lying to myself for months, pretending that I still loved you in the same way, pretending that I didn’t miss someone else, pretending that I wasn’t completely miserable.”

The confession hung in the air, a heavy cloud suffocating and inevitable. “You’ve been so good to me, Odessa,” he continued, pushing through the tightness in his throat. “I really do love you. But not in the way I used to love you. Not in the way you deserve.”

His voice faltered, the guilt washing over him like a cold wave. “I-I just can’t keep going like this when we’re both wasting our time on something that’s not working out. I’m sorry.”

The silence stretched, agonising. He searched her face, desperate for any sign, any spark of the girl he once knew. “Say something, please,” he finally muttered, voice raw and pleading.

He stood there, paralyzed, eyes locked onto her, seeking an answer in her expression. Yet, all he found was a reflection of the pain he had inflicted—a mirror showing the fragments of trust shattering beneath the weight of his words.

Odessa blinked, the brave facade brimming with unsaid words crumbling under the tidal wave of devastation. He wished there were more to say, some soothing melody to mend the discord between them, but all he could do was wait, heart in his throat, engulfed by the fallout of his choices.

Drew stood at the threshold of a moment he could never take back, his heart thundering against his chest like a desperate prisoner seeking escape. As he took a deep breath, he felt the weight of the world pressing down on him. “I—” His mind raced, scrambling to formulate the words that would change everything. “I still want to be friends. I think you’re an amazing person, and I still want you in my life.”

Odessa's brow furrowed, her eyes searching for some trace of the affection that had once sparked between them. The warmth that had once enveloped their bond now felt cold and distant. “And I’m gonna be there for you in whatever way you need. I just—” He swallowed hard, anxiety clawing at his throat. “I need you to understand that I’m done lying to myself. I can’t keep pretending that I don’t want someone else.”

The words spilled from him, raw and desperate. Guilt slithered through him like a snake, coiling tighter with every syllable. “I don’t have any right to ask you this, but I hope that, in time, you’ll forgive me for this. I just—I hope you’ll be okay. I still care about you; god, you have no idea how much this hurts me too.” He hesitated, agonising over his next words. “But I need to be honest with you. I can’t keep lying to both of us. I can’t keep pretending that I don’t still love—”

“—Y/N.” Odessa finished for him, her voice gentle but firm, like a quiet storm brewing on the horizon.

His eyes widened, caught off guard by the strength of her understanding. “You knew?” he whispered, dread pooling in the pit of his stomach.

Her gaze held his, steady but pained. “Yeah. Not in the beginning. But these last few months, it’s been obvious. I just didn’t want to believe it.”

Closing his eyes, Drew felt the crushing weight of her admission settle on his shoulders. Each word felt like another nail in the coffin of their relationship, sealing something precious inside. He balled his hands into fists, anger and frustration boiling within him for the agony he had inflicted on someone who had once been the light of his life. “I wasn’t trying to lead you on, I swear. I didn’t realize what was happening until recently.”

—TIMESKIP—

As he stepped into the dimly lit hallway, the echoes of their shared laughter reverberated in his mind, mocking the heartache of the moment. He could feel his heart shattering into a million pieces, each fragment a reminder of the love that had turned into a burden. Guilt gnawed at him insatiably, promising that this ache would linger long after he had left.

But even as he retreated into the shadows of his own making, Drew knew he would return to her. Each step felt heavier, like walking through molasses as he contemplated the full weight of his choice. He had shattered something beautiful, and now he must face the shards of their fractured reality, unsure if he could put together even a part of what they once had.

The remorse settled deep in his bones, a dark weight echoing with every beat of his heart. He steeled himself, knowing that this was merely the beginning of a new chapter forged from pain—one that would test their connection in ways he never anticipated. And yet, somehow he held onto a flicker of hope that, amid the shards of their past, they might reassemble into something new.

Outside the room, Drew paused, anxiety coursing through his veins like wildfire. His hands trembled slightly as he took a moment to steady his racing heart, inhaling deeply before finally summoning the courage to push the door open.

The sight that welcomed him took his breath away.

Roses scattered across the bed, their rich red petals inviting him into a world that felt surreal. Candles flickered softly along the edges of the room, casting warm shadows that danced collectively within the intimate space. And there, standing amidst it all, was Y/N, a box of chocolates cradled in her hands, her eyes glinting with earnest emotion.

Drew’s breath caught in his throat, his heart pounding wildly in his chest. He felt frozen, awash in a tumult of emotions—a piercing beauty in front of him, juxtaposed against the uncertainty that swirled in his mind. She looked stunning, radiating warmth and hope, yet the weight of guilt settled heavily on his shoulders.

“Y/N, what is—” he began, his voice trembling softly, laced with confusion and vulnerability.

“I know it must have been hard for you,” she interrupted gently, meeting his gaze. “And I’m sorry I pushed you to do it tonight. But I want to do this right with you. That means no more lies and secrets.”

Her sincerity punctured through the heaviness in the air, and he nodded slowly, taking another deep breath. As he took a shaky step forward, his eyes roamed over her—every detail, every curve—unravelling the beauty that had stolen his breath away.

“Yeah, baby,” he murmured, his voice a low whisper, resonating a mix of reverence and remorse. “No more lies or secrets.”

With a tender smile, she beckoned him closer. “Come here.”

He stepped forward, taking her outstretched hand, feeling the warmth envelop him as she pulled him into her embrace. She wrapped her arms around his neck, grounding him, and he returned the gesture, his hands finding their place on her hips. The world beyond faded; all that mattered was the gentle connection between them.

“I’m so sorry,” he breathed out, searching her eyes for understanding, his heart relentless in its frantic rhythm.

“I know,” she whispered softly, her face radiating both pain and compassion.

He ached to express every remorse, each regret getting lodged like stones in his throat. The ambiance of love mingled with melancholy weighed heavily upon him, and it struck him anew with every passing moment. His gaze fell to her lips, and without thinking, he reached out, cupping her cheek with trembling fingers, brushing his thumb tenderly over her soft skin.

“Can you forgive me?” he asked, vulnerability colouring his tone as he looked into her eyes, earnestness saturating every syllable.

“In time,” she reassured him, laying bare her honesty, her voice almost a caress amidst their turmoil.

He felt the tightness in his chest ease slightly—a glimmer of hope igniting a small smile on his face. In this small reprieve, he moved closer, cupping her other cheek as he gently tilted her face up towards his.

With hearts set aflame by emotions unspoken, he pressed his lips against hers, enveloped in warmth and hope.

Y/N responded to the kiss, slow and tender, their souls meeting in an unspoken promise. With each brush of their lips, the burdens of their past weighed less—they felt lighter, almost dreamlike. Drew’s heart leapt, pounding in time with hers, each kiss a balm against the ache of guilt and uncertainty, transforming it into something sweet and intoxicating.

In that moment, nothing else mattered. The roses, the flickering candles, the shadows that danced around them—all of it faded into the background. All that remained was the indescribable feeling of being embraced by forgiveness and the fragile threads of a love that, despite its quarrels, was still so beautiful.

The moment his lips brushed against hers, the world faded into a hazy blur, leaving only the two of them in that intimate moment. He felt a rush of warmth and familiarity, her presence wrapping around him like a warm blanket on a cold night. It was intoxicating, a heady mix of longing and need that made his heart skip a beat.

When he finally pulled back, the space between them crackled with unspoken words. His fingers lingered on her delicate cheek as he pressed another gentle kiss to her lips—soft, exploratory, like he was tasting a forbidden fruit. He could feel the sincerity in every touch, every breath.

“I love you,” he muttered against her lips, the words spilling out before he could rein them in. The vulnerability in his voice hung in the air like a fragile ornament, bright and beautiful yet precarious. “I love you,” he repeated, desperate and yearning for her to mirror his devotion.

She pulled away just enough to look into his eyes, her gaze searching, probing. He could see the flicker of contemplation behind those eyes, like she was weighing his admission against a heavy scale. The silence stretched between them, an anxious chasm filled with possibilities and doubts that threatened to consume him whole.

His heart raced as he held her gaze, the intensity in the depths of her eyes swirling with uncertainty. He craved her reassurance, her love; the longing felt like a fire in his chest, refusing to be doused.

“Say it back,” he urged, a raw urgency in his voice. It was a plea, a wish hanging in the space where four simple words could bridge the segment of their hearts torn apart by insecurities and unspoken truths.

“In time,” she replied, her tone soft but resolute, the air between them thickening with what was left unsaid.

Her answer was both a balm and a dagger to his heart. He swallowed down the impulse to press her further, the ache inside swelling painfully. Instead, he nodded, trying to mask the vulnerability that threatened to crack him open. “Okay, baby. Take your time.”

Before he could dissect the weight of her response, she covered his mouth with hers once more, her lips warm and inviting. He surrendered instantly, kissing her back with a fevered gentleness that spoke of everything he felt—passion, desperation, hope. The kiss deepened, slow and torturous, making his entire being ignite with longing.

Every beat of his heart whispered of her; every brush of their lips sent electric currents dancing beneath his skin. He drowned in her taste, the way her breath mingled with his, the unrelenting pull drawing him closer. His whole body felt alive, ablaze with the need for more of her, greedy for each precious moment she was willing to share.

But within the depths of her mind lingered an unyielding truth. Little did he know, she had never planned on saying it back. Not yet. Perhaps not ever. A tangled web of fear and uncertainty gripped her—a fear of what those words could mean, of the weight they carried. The unromantic reality was that love came with burdens, and at that moment, she wasn’t ready to shoulder hers.

As they kissed, the room spun around them, filled with soft candlelight and the scent of roses, but beneath it all lurked the heart-wrenching truth. One heart was open and willing, while the other remained shrouded in shadows, trapped in a gentle, yet unyielding silence.

The End.