Author_Pan

Just an antisocial pansexual who loves writing fanfiction :)/Solo un pan asocial que ama escribir fanfics :) | X, Instagram, Spotify and Wattpad: @Autora_Pan | She/they

[autorapan]

🌟Welcome to my corner of translated fanfiction🌟

Hello! 👋 On this account, you will find Reader x OC [Original Character] fanfiction translated into English. All fanfiction is originally in Spanish on Wattpad: @Autora_Pan.

Currently, I will be publishing the following fanfiction:

🐰 Jax Fanfiction

💔 An Bound Heart (TADC) <- [Click here!]

Status: On air

Publication: 2 chapters per week

Note: The plot progresses alongside the chapters of the series.

2. 🏫 Accidental Proximity (AU Amazing Digital Circus High School) <- [Click here!]

Status: On air

Publication: 3 chapters per week

Note: The story is now complete, ¡Yay!

3. ⛸️On Promises and Ice (AU Amazing Digital On Ice) <- [Click here!]

Status: In progress

Publication: 3 chapters per week

Note: The chapters are still being written.

🐸 Ribbit Fanfic

🎀 For a While (TADC)

Status: In progress

Note: The story is still in development, with its first publication planned for mid-year.

💡 Important:

The first publication of "An Bound Heart" will begin on February 1.

For now, I will only publish the English versions.

Spanish translations may also be available in the near future.

I also plan to publish fanfic featuring characters from different series in the future, but for now I will focus on those from TADC.

If you have any questions, feel free to ask.

[autorapan]

Estamos acabados...

[autorapan]

𝐀 𝐁𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭 - 𝟕.𝟖.- 𝐒𝐦𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐏𝐨𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 (part 7.8/?)

𝐋𝐢𝐨𝐫𝐚

Christmas had already come and gone; it was peaceful, more peaceful than I’d imagined it would be. We spent it with Rhea’s family amid warm lights, dishes that seemed to go on forever, and that kind of cozy noise that only exists when too many people are feeling comfortable in the same place. There was no drama, no awkward tension, just laughter, gift exchanges, and exaggerated comments about who cooked the best this year.

The only tragic part, and yes, I use the word with genuine drama, was the little porcelain angel I’d bought for Mrs. Susan’s tree. It was small, white, delicate, with hand-painted golden wings, and I’m sure Felix would have screamed blue murder if he’d seen the actual price. I chose it because it seemed elegant and understated, like something that could stay for many years among the green branches of the family tree.

It lasted exactly three hours. Someone... I won’t name names, but it starts with F and ends with elix, accidentally knocked it over while trying to arrange one of the ornaments. The little angel fell in slow motion, as if the universe wanted me to witness its end in detail.

It broke in two. Felix tried to glue it back together, but it only made it worse. In the end, Mrs. Susan said it didn’t matter, that what counted was the thought behind it, and she said it with that maternal smile that makes it impossible to argue. Even so, I felt a little sad.

I couldn’t go to Iowa for New Year’s with Rhea’s family due to complications, schedules, and responsibilities, but they brought me little souvenirs when they returned: a thick scarf, local candies, and a printed photograph where Rhea looked a bit grumpy in the middle of a snowy landscape.

Now all that was behind me; I was curled up in Felix’s arms on the apartment sofa, my legs draped over his, his arm wrapped around my waist, my head resting against his chest. The heat was on, and the living room had that warm atmosphere that makes you want to stay put for hours.

On TV, they were showing that movie where the husband wakes up in a dog’s body. It wasn’t exactly a cult classic, but there was something strangely entertaining about it. The protagonist was trying to adjust to having four legs while his wife suspected that their dog was acting… weird.

— That would be horrible — I murmured when the dog knocked over a vase with its tail.

— You’d get used to it — Felix replied, distracted, playing with my fingers.

I looked up at him, watching him for a few seconds, his relaxed profile, the way he furrowed his brow ever so slightly when something in the movie didn’t make sense.

— If I were a shark — I asked suddenly — Would you still like me? — Felix let out a short laugh

— What?

— Answer me...

— Why would you be a shark? Aren’t you afraid of them?

— It doesn’t matter, just answer — he looked at me with that expression somewhere between confused and amused

— Yeah, I guess

— ‘I guess’? — I asked

— Yeah, I’d love you, ____ shark. You’d have your own fishbowl in the bathtub — he replied. I smiled, satisfied

— What if I were a turtle? — This time he looked at me more directly

— Are you competing with Donatello?

— Just answer

— Yeah

— Even if I were slow?

— You’re already slow sometimes — I gave him a gentle nudge in the stomach

— Felix

— Yeah, turtle, I’d like you too — I nodded thoughtfully; the movie kept playing, but my mind was already elsewhere

— What if I were… I don’t know, a cactus?

— A cactus?

— Yes

— That would be uncomfortable, you know, because of the spines...

— Answer me — I stared at him, Felix sighed dramatically

— Yes, that too

— What if I were invisible?

— Easier to hide when you break things

— Felix

— Yeah, invisible too — each answer came with less resistance, more automatic; I settled in a little closer to him

— What if it were a cloud?

— Uh-huh

— What if it were a ghost?

— Sure

— What if it were a grumpy eighty-year-old lady?

— You probably already are, in secret

— Hey! — I complained, and he laughed.

— Yeah, that too — before I could continue, something hit me on the head; it was a pillow

— Can you two stop asking existential questions and let me watch the movie? — Rhea grumbled from the other end of the couch

— They’re important — I protested

— The dog just figured out he can bark words, and you guys are talking about sharks and who knows what else — Felix laughed and pulled me closer to him, resting his chin on my head

— Hush, pretty girl — he whispered to me

— I’m not done — I tried to ask another question, but he covered my mouth with his hand

— Don't even think about it — I let out an indignant sound against his palm — Shh, we don't want to make Rhea any angrier — he whispered close to my ear

Then he removed his hand just to kiss me on the cheek, a soft, slow kiss; his other hand began to play with my hair, twirling strands between his fingers and untangling them with distracted patience.

I stayed still, not because I wanted to stop asking questions, but because that gesture... always disarms me. There’s something about the way he plays with my hair that makes me feel small in a good way, makes me feel... cared for.

— Do you know why I’m asking? — I murmured softly

— Because you’re bored? — he asked, tilting his head

— No — I shook my head

— Because you’ve watched too many weird movies? — he tried again, but I shook my head again

— No, not that either — he raised an eyebrow

— Then why? — he asked. I stared at him, and for a second I hesitated to speak.

— Because I want to know that you’d be with me no matter what — I confessed. His expression barely changed—not dramatically, just a slightly more serious look.

— ____ — he said softly. — I’d be with you even if you were unbearable.

— I already am...

— Exactly, and I still like you — he pulled me a little closer to him, and I smiled

He kissed my cheek again and kept playing with my hair while his gaze returned to the screen; the movie continued, the dog ran through the garden trying to write with its paws, Rhea sighed dramatically every time we interrupted, and I snuggled closer to Felix.

If I were a shark, if I were a turtle, if I were anything strange and absurd, as long as he kept answering “Yes” with that naturalness… I think I’d be okay.

The movie ended without us really paying attention to the ending; at some point, Rhea got up, grumbling about our inability to keep quiet, and went to her room. Felix and I stayed on the couch a little longer, talking about nothing until sleep began to weigh on my eyelids, and we ended up in his bed.

The room was dark, barely lit by the dim light coming in from the street. I was curled up against him, one leg over his, his arm wrapped around me with that absent-minded firmness he always has, even when asleep.

— Felix — I whispered, catching his attention

— Mmm

— If I were a pufferfish... — I began, but he let out a long sigh

— ____...

— What?

— Go to sleep… please

— Just answer me — I asked

— Yes, I’d love you all puffed up and poisonous too — I smiled against his chest

— What if I were allergic to you?

— That would be a logistical problem; you wouldn’t be able to kiss me

— But answer me

— Yes — he murmured, his patience worn thin — I would — I lifted my head slightly to look at him in the dim light

— What if I lost my memory?

— You’re not going to lose it

— But what if I did? — I asked seriously. He opened one eye and fell into thought.

— I’d win you over again — he said finally, and my heart skipped a beat at that.

— Really? — I asked hopefully.

— Yes, now go to sleep — he asked. I settled in more comfortably, resting my head on his chest.

— All right, get some rest...

I officially decided to sleep. His hand began to stroke my back with slow, steady movements, moving up and down gently, setting a rhythm that made me feel small and protected. He always does that when he notices I’m restless. I listened to his steady, regular heartbeat, my breathing began to match his, and I fell asleep.

I don’t know how much time passed before I woke up; the room was darker, the silence deeper, that indefinite hour of the early morning when the world seems suspended. I was thirsty. I blinked several times, still drowsy, and sat up just enough to reach for the glass of water I always leave on the nightstand, a habit I’ve had since I was a child. That’s when I noticed the light, a small white light illuminating Felix’s face. It was my phone. My phone was in his hands. I blinked again, confused.

— What are you doing? — I murmured in a voice thick with sleep. He didn’t seem startled, or even guilty. He barely looked up at me, but his expression was different, harder, more… cold

— I’m making sure no one tries to take you away from me — his tone wasn’t playful, it wasn’t tired; it was something I hadn’t heard from him before, something deeper. I stared at him for a few seconds, trying to process it. “I guess that’s normal,” I thought. Felix is my first boyfriend; I have nothing to compare it to. Maybe in relationships, people do this, make sure, check, and take care

— Ah, okay — I nodded slowly

I picked up the glass of water and took a couple of sips; the water was lukewarm, but enough to soothe my dry throat. Felix turned his gaze back to the screen. I slid my body toward him again, settling against his chest as before. His arm wrapped around me automatically, but his attention remained fixed on the phone; the light illuminated his tense jawline.

— Why is Lucien sending you hearts? — he asked suddenly. It took my mind a second to connect the question to something coherent

— Because... — I yawned — His dad checks his messages

— And?

— So he sends hearts to make it look like he’s interested — Felix was silent for a few seconds

— Interested in what? — he asked more seriously

— In me — I replied simply — But he isn’t — I felt his chest expand beneath my cheek

— And you?

— No, it’s just until he goes to France — the answer came out automatically and honestly, because there was nothing to hide; he kept scrolling through the conversations as if it were the most natural thing in the world, sometimes pausing

— What does this mean?

— It’s a joke.

— And this other thing?

— That was sarcasm — I replied calmly, without anxiety; there was nothing strange about it, nothing to worry me.

— You should give me your passwords — he said suddenly. He didn’t say it as a suggestion; he said it as if it were a logical step. I stayed silent for a second and then nodded.

— Yeah, sure — I have nothing to hide, no secrets, no hidden motives. If that makes him feel better... Why not? I rested my hand on his chest — Do you want me to give them to you now?

— Tomorrow — he replied without taking his eyes off the screen and kept checking

I snuggled closer to him, letting fatigue pull me back in. The light from the phone kept flickering against my closed eyelids, but the rhythm of his breathing became steady again. Maybe this is part of loving someone, making sure... protecting what’s yours. Felix has always been intense; I know that, but he’s also the one who tells me I’d fall in love again if I lost my memory, the one who plays with my hair until I fall asleep, the one who answers “Yes” even when I ask silly questions. I felt his hand move absently over my arm as he kept looking at his phone.

— No one is going to take you away from me — he murmured, almost to himself. It didn’t sound like a threat; it sounded like a promise, and I decided to believe that was a good thing. I closed my eyes again; the glass of water remained on the nightstand, the light from the phone continued to glow for a few more minutes, and I fell asleep on his chest, convinced that everything was fine

It’s early; the light barely filters through the curtain, soft and grayish as if the day were still deciding whether it wants to fully begin. I’m awake, but not awake enough to want to get up. I’m comfortable, too comfortable.

Felix is behind me, hugging me around the waist, his chest against my back, his warm breath on my neck, one of his legs trapping mine so I can’t escape, as if at some point I’d tried to. I have my phone in my hands, and he’s looking at it too; I swipe the screen slowly while he rests his chin on my shoulder.

— What are you looking at? — he murmurs, his voice still hoarse from sleep

— Nothing interesting... — I reply

Until a notification pops up; I’ve been tagged in a photo. I frown slightly and open it, and then I laugh. It’s from that event I went to several weeks ago, the art exhibition where I ended up running into Adam and Chloe.

In the picture, Adam is staring with an exaggeratedly frightened expression at a completely white canvas with a single red splatter in the center. I’m standing next to him holding a glass of wine that actually belonged to him and pretending that I was the one who ruined the artwork. The scene looks like an artistic crime; Adam looks traumatized, and I look guilty. It’s ridiculous.

— Look, — I say to Felix, tilting my phone slightly so he can see better; he leans in closer to me

— What is that?

— A painting that looked like a stained wall — I smile again — And him pretending to have a heart attack because I “ruined” modern art — Felix looks at the photo for a few seconds

— I didn’t know you had male friends — he says in a light tone — You should’ve told me sooner — then he laughs as if it were a joke, and I laugh too

— It’s Adam; we went to high school together

— Oh — he stares for another second — He looks so dramatic

— He was always like that

I keep swiping my finger across the screen, comments, reactions, Chloe left a crying-with-laughter emoji, Adam wrote something about “artistic vandalism,” but Felix plants a kiss on my neck, first one, then another, and another slower one, and I pretend it doesn’t affect me.

— I’m reading — I tell him

— That doesn’t stop you from listening — he replies against my skin, his lips moving down a little further, my breathing barely changes, but I keep my eyes fixed on the screen

— I need to concentrate — I murmur.

 — Mmm — I feel him smile against my neck before leaving another, more insistent kiss, and I try to ignore it, I really do, but my mind starts to wander. Between one notification and another, I remember something.

— Hey — I say suddenly

— Hm?

— A professor told me something interesting — I begin, and he pauses briefly

— What is it?

— There’s a course I could take in another city; it’s short, but it would be good for my resume — I say. The room falls silent, not awkwardly, just… silence

— In another city? — he finally asks

— Yeah, it’s not that far — he traces slow circles on my stomach with his hand

— But we’d see each other less… — his tone is soft; he doesn’t sound upset — I’m sure you don’t need it right now — he adds. I think about it for a second; maybe he’s right. It’s not urgent, just a possibility

— I don’t know — I say — I just mentioned it

— Mmm — his embrace tightens a little — I like it when you’re here

— I’d rather be here too — and I mean it; with him, everything feels simpler

Later, the day goes by with little things: a quick breakfast, Rhea complaining about something trivial, Donatello moving across the floor at his steady pace. In the afternoon, I have plans with Rhea, so I got changed and picked out a dress I like. It's not over the top, but it is pretty. The fabric falls softly to my knees, and the color stands out a little more in the natural light. When I step out of the room, Felix looks up and stares at me a second longer than usual.

— What? Do you like it? — I ask, turning slightly on my heel

— You look beautiful in it — he says, and I smile

— Thanks — his gaze drops a little

— But out there, people are bound to stare at you too much... Don’t you want something less flashy? — I blink; he doesn’t say it reproachfully, he says it softly, almost worriedly. I look at the dress; it doesn’t seem over the top to me, but maybe it does draw a little attention

— Do you think so? — I ask

— I’m just saying — he shrugs — I like it when you look like this with me... — I feel a strange warmth in my chest, as if it were something special... something only we share

— Okay — I say finally. I go back to the closet and change into something a little simpler, just as pretty, but less... noticeable. When I come back, he smiles

— You still look pretty — he says. I walk over and give him a quick kiss.

— You’re exaggerating.

— Never — I head out shortly after with Rhea, feeling light. I don’t think too much about the class, or the comment about Adam, or the dress; I just think it’s sweet that he cares, that he wants me to be okay, that he’d rather have me close by. As we walk toward the door, I hear his voice behind me — Let me know when you get there — I give him a thumbs-up without turning around

— I always do — and I do, because I like that he cares, because I like that he looks at me as if I were the only important thing in the room, and because somehow, all of that makes me feel...chosen

Sunday started out normally. I had breakfast in my apartment, got dressed at my own pace, and went out to meet Amélie. We’d planned to grab coffee after class and walk around downtown for a while. Nothing out of the ordinary, just light conversation, laughter, and that pleasant feeling of talking again about pirouettes, choreography, and demanding teachers.

— You look tired — Amélie said as she stirred her coffee

— I stayed up late — I replied

I wasn’t lying. Between movies, conversations, and hugs, time with Felix always flew by without me noticing. My phone vibrated on the table, and I looked at the screen.

Felix 💞:

I miss you :c

I smiled involuntarily and replied quickly

Me:

I’ve only been gone an hour

The conversation flowed naturally. Amélie was talking about an audition, and I was telling her about the art event and the ridiculous photo with Adam. Everything was going smoothly, but my phone vibrated again.

Felix 💞:

Where are you now?

I sent him a photo of the café while continuing my conversation, but a few minutes later it vibrated again.

Felix 💞:

With whom?

— Is everything okay? — Amélie asked when she noticed I was looking at my phone again

— Yes, it’s my boyfriend — I replied, almost amused — He cares about me... — I added, and she let out a soft laugh

— That’s nice, isn’t it? I rarely see a man who’s genuinely interested

— Yeah, I’m pretty lucky... — I murmured, a little embarrassed; having someone miss you in real time is kind of sweet

The phone vibrated several more times that afternoon, short messages, emojis, little questions; it didn’t bother me, it was just… there. When I got back to Felix and Rhea’s apartment, it was already getting dark. I opened the door, and the first thing I heard was Rhea’s voice from the living room.

— ____! — she appeared, peeking over the back of the sofa — I was thinking we should go out just the two of us sometime, or even now, a night walk, something spontaneous — she said enthusiastically

— I’d love to — I replied with a smile. Before I could put down my bag, Felix came out of the kitchen

— Are you back already? — He came over and gave me a quick kiss on the lips. — I missed you.

— It was only a few hours.

— Many hours — he nodded as if it were a serious matter; Rhea rolled her eyes dramatically.

— I was suggesting we kidnap her for a while.

— Yeah, that’s what she told me — I played along with Rhea; Felix looked at me with a half-smile.

— Can you stay tonight?

— Tonight?

— Stay with me; I don’t want to share you today — he said it in a light, almost joking tone, but his hands were already on my waist. I thought about it for a second; Rhea raised an eyebrow.

— Well… I can steal her tomorrow — she said, shrugging. I looked at Felix.

— Did you really miss me that much?

— Very much so — he replied. Finally, I sighed.

— Fine, I’ll stay — Rhea feigned indignation.

— Betrayal…

— We’ll go out tomorrow — I promised. — I hope so.

The three of us ended up on the couch watching some random movie Rhea had picked out. I was in the middle, Felix to my right, Rhea to my left with Donatello on her lap. Halfway through the movie, as if it were no big deal, Felix picked up my phone from the table. He didn’t say a word. neither did I. He already knows my passwords; I gave them to him days ago without thinking too much about it. While someone was running in slow motion on the screen, he opened my calendar.

— You have ballet on Tuesday and Wednesday — he commented as if he were reading the weather

— Yeah

— And you’re calling your grandma on Friday

— I always call her on Fridays; they’re special. — I nodded without taking my eyes off the movie. He swiped a little further

— Oh, you’re going out with that French guy on Thursday… I didn’t remember that. — His tone was neutral, almost curious

— Yes, I replied. — We have the “Date” set up — I made air quotes with my fingers.

— What time?

— At eight.

— Where?

— A restaurant downtown; I think my dad picked it — there was a brief silence.

— Do you dress up for those kinds of things? Just curious — I turned my head slightly toward him

— It’s a fancy restaurant, so yes

— Oh — that was all; I turned my gaze back to the screen. The movie continued; Rhea made a sarcastic comment about the lead actor, and I laughed. I felt Felix’s hand on my knee, tracing soft, distracted circles — Do you like getting dressed up for those dinners? — he asked after a few seconds

— I like getting dressed up in general; I’m used to it

— I know — he said with a small smile, resting his chin on my shoulder while he kept looking at my planner as if it were a shared calendar

— We could do something on Friday — he added

— Sure — I finally closed my phone and set it on the table; everything returned to normal. The movie ended; Rhea complained about the happy ending; Donatello tried unsuccessfully to get off the couch; I stayed leaning against Felix, feeling his arm wrap around me with calm firmness

— Did you have fun today? — he asked me in a low voice

— Yes

— I’m glad — he rested his forehead against my temple for a second

There were no reproaches, no strange tone, just that constant feeling that he’s always attentive. As the night wore on and we got up to go to the bedroom, I thought the day had been simple and normal: Sunday, friends, movies. While I was getting changed for bed, I heard his voice from the bed.

— Let me know if anything changes for Thursday.

— I’ll let you know — I replied. I slipped under the sheets, and he wrapped his arms around me almost immediately.

— I like it when you’re here — he murmured. I smiled in the darkness.

— I'm here — and in that moment, I saw nothing else but that

------------------------------------

This has already gone wrong :) I need to get back to work; I fell asleep in my chair

Fun fact: I swear Liora isn’t that naive, but since she thinks Felix isn’t that kind of person, she believes everything he says 😭

Anyway, I hope to see you all crying soon. Don’t forget to hit the heart, comment, and follow me for more updates. Thank you so much for reading. See you on Sunday

[Previous] | [Start] | [Next] <- this will be edited with the next update <3

[Fanfic's Guide] | [Info Fanfic]

[autorapan]

𝐀 𝐁𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭 - 𝟕.𝟕.- 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐧𝐨𝐢𝐬𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐥𝐬 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐡𝐨𝐦𝐞 (part 7.7/?)

𝐉𝐚𝐱

Thanksgiving came around faster than I expected, and before I could think too much about it, I was already hugging Felix’s waist on his motorcycle, feeling the cold wind seep through the sleeves of my blouse. This time I had come prepared: a light-colored blouse tucked neatly into flared dress pants and comfortable yet elegant shoes, nothing that would flap in the wind, nothing that would make me feel exposed. Learning how to dress for a motorcycle ride was another skill I’d developed thanks to him.

— I still think you’d look better in a skirt — Felix complained over the roar of the engine. I rested my forehead against his back for a second before giving him a gentle squeeze in the ribs.

— If anyone hears you, they’re going to think you have a really weird skirt fetish — I said, amused.

— What if I do? — he replied without hesitation, clearly just to annoy me.

I shook my head, smiling to myself. Felix was like that: provocative, persistent, and unable to pass up an opportunity to tease me, but somehow he always managed to make me feel safe, even when he was talking nonsense.

When we arrived, the first thing I noticed was the noise: loud laughter, overlapping voices, background music, and that constant buzz of a house full of people. I tensed up a little without realizing it.

— Is there… more people than usual? — I asked cautiously as I got off the motorcycle. Felix took off his helmet and smiled at me as if nothing were wrong.

— Rhea’s whole family is like that — he remarked — Noisy, chaotic, but good people, just like Susan.

I nodded, taking a deep breath. Before I could get myself together, we knocked on the door. A boy of about ten opened it. First he looked at Felix curiously, then he looked at me, and finally his gaze dropped to our clasped hands. I was about to greet him when, without saying a word, he turned around and shouted into the house.

— Felix brought a girl!

From inside, a well-placed curse was heard, followed by a laugh so loud that I had no doubt he was Rhea’s family. Then another voice shouted something about two hundred dollars, and Felix snorted.

— Great... they’re still up to those stupid bets.

I hadn’t even crossed the threshold and I already knew this was going to be... intense, chaotic, loud, full of inside jokes and laughter that seemed to go on forever. I took a step forward and then I saw it: a huge golden retriever was coming straight at me, tongue hanging out and radiating dangerous joy.

— Felix... — I managed to say.

I didn’t get to finish the sentence; the dog lunged at me. Felix tried to hold me back so I wouldn’t fall, but the dog’s weight and enthusiasm were too much. I ended up on the floor with the dog on top of me, sniffing me as if he’d known me my whole life. Inside, I was deeply grateful I hadn’t been wearing a skirt.

— ____! — Felix exclaimed, quickly pushing the dog away — Max, get down — he helped me up while I tried to compose myself, laughing nervously

— I’m fine — I assured her almost immediately when Susan approached with a worried expression — Really — Susan smiled and hugged me with that same warm gesture I’d seen before

— I'm so glad you came, ____

That hug broke down any remaining barriers I had. That’s how the afternoon began, with an unforgettable introduction, an overly affectionate dog, and a desperate wish for the ground to swallow me up... but also with laughter. Charlotte appeared almost immediately and hugged me tightly.

— You're finally here! Come on, I'm going to introduce you to everyone before they start asking you weird questions.

Felix stayed behind, intercepted by two guys his age who didn't waste any time starting to grill him. I heard someone say they thought he was going to grow old alone, or that he'd end up marrying his motorcycle. I followed Charlotte, greeting people, smiling, and trying to memorize names while my heart raced. It wasn’t long before Felix reappeared, this time with a man with his arm around his shoulders as if they were old friends.

— This boy — said the man, pointing at him — Made me win two hundred dollars after four years of family reunions. I always knew he’d bring a girl someday.

— Hey — protested Felix.

— Now you’re my favorite nephew-not-nephew — the man continued, ignoring him, then looked at Rhea, who was nearby holding Donatello in her arms... Donatello, who was dressed as a turkey — If you bring someone for Christmas, I win four hundred more — he told her. Susan appeared like a flash and gave him a slap on the shoulder

— Don't use my kids for betting — she scolded. The man raised his hands in surrender and walked away, only to whisper to another that they had to raise the stakes

I watched it all with a mixture of amazement and nervousness. It was too warm, too lively; I wasn’t used to that. I almost always spent those holidays alone, or surrounded by polite but distant people, cold and without raucous laughter or absurd jokes.

And there I was, right in the middle of it all, with a tightness in my chest... but not with sadness, with something very close to feeling at home. If I learned anything that day, it was that in that family, no one asked half-hearted questions; they weren’t intrusive, not exactly, but they were direct, spoken with open smiles and a genuine curiosity that made me feel as if I were taking some kind of test... a kind one, but a test nonetheless.

We were in the living room, some sitting, others standing with plates in their hands and conversations floating through the air. I was next to Felix, his arm brushing against mine, and though I tried to look relaxed, I felt that slight nervousness that settles in your chest when you know you’re being watched.

— How old are you, sweetie? — asked a woman I didn’t know, in a soft tone and with a curious smile.

— I’ll be turning twenty in a few months — I replied without hesitation.

— And how long have you been dating Felix? — Before he could say anything, I spoke up.

— Uh…one year.

I felt her glance at me out of the corner of my eye, as if she were mentally confirming that I’d said the same thing he would have said. Felix didn’t smile, but he didn’t deny anything either, which, coming from him, was saying quite a lot.

— Are you from here or from another state? — another woman asked, settling more comfortably into the armchair

— I’m from California, but I moved to this state when I was fourteen — I replied. There was a general murmur, followed by a cousin who was quick to joke

— Look at that, Felix snagged a Californian.

— She’s nicer than the other girl — added another, giving his brother a knowing look. — Do you remember the Texan? Though I think she was just passing through on Flag Day. — Felix rolled his eyes immediately and glanced at me sideways, shaking his head.

— Don't start, we never went out — he corrected, uncomfortable. I just smiled, not quite sure what to say. I didn't feel jealous or truly uncomfortable, just that strange sensation of stepping into a story that wasn't mine, but one that had already ended. An uncle sighed dreamily, resting his elbow on the armrest of the chair

— California... the beaches there are beautiful. Do you have a favorite? — The question caught me a little off guard; I felt my shoulders tense almost immediately

— No... — I admitted, a little nervously — Actually... I’m afraid of the ocean

There was a brief, automatic, and inevitable silence. My body reacted before my mind, bracing for mockery, for an awkward laugh, or some comment like “That’s ridiculous” or “You’ll get over it with time”, comments I knew all too well. My father’s voice flashed through my memory, downplaying it, minimizing its importance, and making me feel like I was overreacting, but none of that came. My uncle simply nodded as if what I’d just said made perfect sense.

— It makes sense; everyone is afraid of different things — he said, then turned to Felix with a crooked smile — Like him when we go to Iowa for New Year’s — I felt the shift in the air even before I looked at Felix; he tensed up immediately

— That’s not true — he said curtly

— Oh, really? — his uncle continued — Then why don’t you want to leave Grandpa’s house when we’re near the cornfield? — I blinked in surprise and slowly turned my head toward Felix

— Are you afraid of corn? — I asked, genuinely confused

— It’s not fear — he growled — It’s… something else

— It's fear — someone corrected from behind; laughter soon followed; Felix clenched his jaw, clearly hating every second of that public exposure

— I didn't know that — I said quietly, more to myself than to him

— Because it's not important — he replied without looking at me; the same uncle from before, the one who makes bets, appeared as if he'd been waiting for his moment

— I'll give you twenty dollars if you can get him to leave the house this New Year's to help us with the fireworks — he assured me. Before I could react, another one chimed in.

— I'll give you forty if you can get him to sing “Auld Lang Syne” with the kids — I stared at them, and then at Felix, who looked like he was about to explode.

— No way, not even for a hundred dollars

I couldn’t help but laugh, not a nervous laugh, but a sincere one, the kind that just comes out on its own. The proposals started piling up: dancing, wearing a ridiculous hat, telling an embarrassing story. It was absurd… but also heartwarming.

Because deep down it meant something; it meant they were including me, that they saw me as someone who would be there again on other occasions, in other years, that I wasn’t just "the girl who Felix invited", but someone they could joke with, make bets with, and invite to be part of the chaos. Felix, of course, didn’t see the bets that way.

— See? — he complained — They just want me to make a fool of myself

— Because we like to torment you — Rhea replied from the kitchen without even peeking out — Learn to live with it — I looked at him again, this time with a gentle smile

— I’m not promising anything — I said quietly — But… forty dollars is forty dollars — he shot me a withering look.

— Don’t even think about it… you don’t need forty dollars anyway — I laughed again, and for the first time in a long time, I wasn’t afraid to stay; I actually wanted to come back

Dinner arrived almost before I realized it; somewhere between laughter and overlapping conversations, someone turned up the volume on the TV a little higher, where the football game continued to play as a constant, almost comforting background noise. The living room and dining room seemed to have merged into a single space filled with voices, dishes, footsteps, and comments shouted at the screen.

In the center of the table there were... too many turkeys, three to be exact, golden, shiny, and intimidating; for a second I thought that if one came to life and ran off, no one would be surprised.

Rhea would occasionally glance over at Donatello; the turtle was on the floor, moving with determined slowness behind Thor, who seemed not to notice. . . or to be pretending not to notice that he was being chased. Donatello moved as if he were protecting his territory, convinced that this enormous dog was a direct threat to his reptilian dignity.

— Look at him — someone said — He thinks he’s a security guard.

— Or an undercover turkey — replied another, provoking laughter

Before we started eating, everyone fell silent to give thanks for the food. I was surprised by how natural that moment felt, how simple; it wasn’t long or solemn, just honest. I closed my eyes for a second, took a deep breath, and for the first time in a long time, I felt… good, really good.

Dinner passed amid jokes, family anecdotes that I listened to as if they were someone else’s stories but still welcoming, loud laughter, constant interruptions, and comments about the game. Felix was beside me, and every so often he would take my hand under the table as if he needed to remind me… or to remind himself that I was there. At other times, he would lean in slightly to whisper something in my ear, sarcastic comments, absurd observations, or simple “Are you okay?” that made me nod with a smile; I was more than okay.

When dinner was over, I stood up almost on reflex to help with the dishes. I took a few, but didn’t get very far before several voices stopped me.

— No, no, no — Susan stopped me — You rest

— Yeah, they gave you a hell of an interrogation today — someone else added with a kind smile — Come on, go sit down

I tried to protest, but it was useless; they practically kicked me out of the kitchen with kind smiles and gentle hands pushing me back into the living room.

I went back to Felix, who was sitting on the armrest of the sofa; the sofa, of course, was full of Rhea’s relatives, all talking at once. As soon as he saw me, Felix smiled that crooked smile of his that always disarms me, and without saying a word, he gently pulled me by the waist, sitting me on his lap.

— Felix — I murmured, though I made no real attempt to move

— Relax — he whispered — No one’s complaining

And he was right; no one seemed to be paying us any attention. I settled in a little better, carefully shifting my weight, and felt his arm wrap around me naturally. When no one was looking, he tilted his head and gave me a quick kiss on the cheek. I felt the heat rise to my face and smiled, unable to help myself.

The night went on like that, wrapped in a warmth I didn’t know I needed so much, laughter, random comments, the sound of the game, Thor darting back and forth, Donatello following him with infinite persistence, everything seemed to fit.

When it was finally time to leave, I started saying my goodbyes, hugs, smiles, comments of “Come back soon” that took me by surprise. Just as we were near the door, one of the guys looked at Felix with a knowing smile.

— Hey, is ____ coming next Thanksgiving? — I felt my stomach flip a little; Felix glanced at me out of the corner of his eye, just for a second, and then nodded with absolute certainty

— Yes — he replied — We’ll be coming for Christmas, too — The reaction was immediate: applause, whistles, exaggerated laughter. It was as if Felix had just declared independence or saved the Earth from a giant meteorite

— Hallelujah! — someone shouted

— A miracle! — added another

Felix rolled his eyes, clearly regretting having spoken out loud, and without saying another word, he took my hand to lead me out of the house before the celebration got even more out of hand. Outside, the cold air hit my face. We walked a few steps in silence; I couldn’t stop smiling. My cheeks felt tired, but I didn’t care.

— Your mouth is going to hurt later — Felix remarked, amused.

— I don’t think so — I replied, still smiling.

— Well, then… you could use it for something else — he said with a sly smile, clearly implying something. I stopped dead in my tracks and looked at him in disbelief.

— Really? — I gave him a gentle tap on the chest — You can’t say that right out in the open

That didn’t stop him. Felix cupped my face with both hands and kissed me. It was a firm, confident, one of those kisses that anchors you to the ground. When we pulled apart, he looked me straight in the eyes.

— I like you — he confessed. I felt something tighten in my chest, but it was a nice kind of tightness.

— I like you too — I replied, smiling.

Felix looked around to make sure the door was locked, and without warning, he playfully smacked my butt before running off toward the motorcycle.

— Felix! — I complained, laughing as I followed him. He carefully put the helmet on me, adjusting it as if it were something sacred.

— You’re already so pretty and safe — he said before kissing me again. — I like that lipstick — I replied to the kiss, and when we pulled apart, he leaned close to my ear. — Hop on quick, I want to get to the apartment — he whispered. I laughed, climbed on behind him, and clung to his waist as the motorcycle started up, carrying me with him, still smiling, into the night

The living room of my apartment was quiet and lit only by the warm evening light filtering through the curtains. I could still feel the energy from the afternoon at Mrs. Susan’s house, with the laughter, the bets, and the warmth of that whole family. It was a huge contrast to the calm of this place, and I felt relieved to finally be able to sit down and let it all sink in.

Felix emerged from the shower a few minutes later, his hair still damp and wrapped in a lilac towel; the pajamas he’d chosen for the night gave him an air that was both carefree and charming at the same time. I couldn’t help but smile; seeing him like that, so relaxed and so natural, made me feel warm inside, as if nothing could come between this moment and me.

— Hi — I murmured as he walked toward me

— Hi — he replied in that deep, playful voice that always made me blush — You smell good today — he said as he drew closer, burying his nose in my neck

I let him hold me, smiling wordlessly, enjoying the warmth he radiated. His body was firm and confident against mine, and I could feel the beat of his heart even through the softness of his chest pressed against mine. It was a perfect contrast between his strength and the tranquility he offered me.

— Did you have fun today? — he asked, pulling his head back slightly to look at me. His eyes sparkled with curiosity and that mischievous twinkle he always had when he wanted to coax an answer out of me

— Yeah — I replied, letting my smile spread — I liked everything... even the silly bets they made. — Felix laughed, but with a hint of complaint, as if he were remembering all the tension and chaos those bets had caused.

— Idiots — he muttered with a crooked smile — I don’t know how I put up with them.

— Let’s go to bed — I whispered, leaning in a little toward him.

— Wow! I have a naughty girlfriend — he said with that mix of teasing and amusement that always made me laugh.

— Silly — I replied softly, laughing.

We got up together and walked toward my room; his hands were intertwined with mine, and every step made me feel safe and protected. Every time he touched me, no matter how slight, I felt a warmth spread through my chest, reminding me how lucky I was to have him.

Felix was the first to lie down, opening his arms to invite me in. I let myself fall into his arms without hesitation, hugging him tightly as he buried his nose in my neck again and let out a sigh.

— I like you — he whispered, his voice barely audible but firm.

— I like you too — I replied, pulling him a little closer to me.

Our lips met in a gentle kiss, full of affection and intimacy. It was slow and delicate, a silent reminder of everything we shared and what it meant to me to be by his side. When we pulled apart slightly, he continued to hold me, gently brushing my hair as his chest rose and fell with each breath.

I moved closer to him, letting myself hear his heartbeat. It was strange and comforting at the same time, feeling how his heart beat to its own rhythm, so real and close, and how everything in me synchronized with it. I closed my eyes and let the warmth of his body envelop me, leaving behind any worries or noise from the outside world.

— Today was... — I began, but stopped when I saw Felix’s smile, the one that spoke louder than a thousand words.

— Yeah, I know — he replied, gently stroking my back. — It was a good day, right?

I nodded, resting my head on his chest. I felt like I could stay like this for hours, listening to his whispers and his breathing, feeling the security he offered me every time he held me.

— Thank you for bringing me here today — I whispered — for everything.

— You don’t have to thank me — he murmured — I like seeing you happy.

His voice was warm, and the sincerity in it made me smile as I let myself be carried away by the comfort of his embrace. I could feel his hands playing with my hair, gently untangling it while he whispered things in my ear that only I could hear.

I let myself drift off to sleep there in his arms, feeling as though this moment was our little sanctuary. The warmth of his body, his scent, the softness of his hands, and the steady rhythm of his heartbeat set the perfect pace for my rest, causing me to close my eyes with a smile as my thoughts slowly faded away. All that remained was the present moment; all that remained was Felix and me, and the tranquility that enveloped us.

The world could wait, but here in his arms everything was fine, and as I drifted off to sleep listening to his heartbeat, I felt that I was exactly where I was meant to be, safe, happy, and loved.

----------------------

Heyyy, I’m back, maybe it’s better this way, this way I can make the chapters longer :)

Fun fact: Now Liora is definitely going to want to kill me, the happy moments are over [First year mwah mwah, second year F, and third year...] Anyway, I hope you loved it because you’re going to cry soon [But obviously we’ll start little by little], don’t forget to click the heart, comment with tears emojis, and follow me for more updates. Thank you so much for reading, see you on Wednesday 🎉✨

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[autorapan]

𝐀 𝐁𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭 - 𝟕.𝟔.- 𝐈𝐜𝐞, 𝐯𝐨𝐢𝐜𝐞𝐬, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐰𝐚𝐲𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐟𝐚𝐥𝐥 (part 7.6/?)

𝐉𝐚𝐱

I’ve never been good at planning dates, not because I don’t care, but because my mind works more in “Survive the Week” mode than in “Create Memorable Moments” mode. Still, this time I’d made an effort. It wasn’t anything extravagant or postcard-worthy, but I’d saved a little more than usual by skipping a couple of little treats and thinking that maybe, and just maybe, I could give her something nice without her feeling like I was trying to compete with the world she came from. ____ didn’t need anything expensive; I knew that. She’d told me more than once in that way of hers, speaking without imposing herself, as if she were careful not to hurt my pride. Even so, I wanted to do it right, in my own way.

I picked her up in the middle of the afternoon; when she opened the door, I stood still for a second longer than usual. It wasn’t dramatic or movie-like, but it was one of those moments when your brain takes a second to react because what you see throws everything into a bit of a jumble. She was wearing a simple, pretty dress, the kind that doesn’t scream “Look at me” but still do. On top, a jacket that matched perfectly, her crossbody bag, and those mini heels that always made me wonder how on earth she walked with such confidence. ____ had that talent: looking like a society lady without ceasing to feel like herself.

— Hi — she greeted me with a smile before giving me a kiss, and just like that, any internal speech I’d rehearsed vanished.

We walked hand in hand without rushing; I liked that about her, that she didn't feel the need to fill every second with words. Her hand fit into mine as if it already knew where to go, and I found myself matching my pace to hers without thinking too much about it. The place was peaceful, with trees, long paths, and that kind of calm you don't realize you needed until you're right in the middle of it.

We passed a small lake; it wasn’t much, but it was full of ducks swimming without a care in the world, as if their only responsibility in life were to float and quack from time to time. ____ stopped almost abruptly, letting go of my hand only to bring it to her chest as if the gesture had come naturally.

— Look — she said with genuine tenderness

I looked at her before I looked at the ducks; I always did that. Her expression was soft and open, as if the world hadn’t worn her out yet. She crouched down a little, not caring about her heels, and stayed there watching as the ducks gathered together, bumping into each other and rearranging themselves, something small and simple, but still enough to capture her full attention.

— They're adorable — she added

— Aha — I replied, but I wasn't talking about them

I smiled without realizing it; I liked seeing her like that, fascinated by small things. It reminded me that not everything had to be loud or intense to be important, that sometimes it was enough just to stop. We kept walking after a while; the sun was beginning to set, tinging everything with a warmer color, and I thought that walking with ____ felt dangerously close to peace, and that was strange for me; I wasn’t used to feeling like nothing urgent was chasing me.

— Hey — she said suddenly, turning her head slightly toward me — What if we go to the ice rink again? — she suggested. I glanced at her out of the corner of my eye, and it took my brain half a second to process the suggestion... and then it triggered all the traumatic memories

— No — I replied without thinking. She blinked in surprise and then let out a laugh that hit me right in the chest

— Was it that bad? — she asked, amused. “Yes,” too bad; my dignity was still in rehab

— I fell more times than I’m willing to admit, and that was with you there trying to help me

— That made it worse for you, didn’t it? — she insisted with that mischievous smile I knew all too well. I shook my head seriously.

— Never again. My knees and my pride signed an agreement.

She laughed again and, without warning, leaned in to give me a quick kiss on the cheek. I felt the heat rush up suddenly, as if that tiny gesture had been enough to reboot my entire system.

— Okay, but someday I’ll make you come back — she said.

— That sounds like a threat — I murmured.

— It is — she replied calmly.

We kept walking, and I realized I was smiling like an idiot, but I didn’t care. ____ had that ability to make even my refusals feel like part of the game, not like an awkward boundary; with her, saying “No” didn’t break anything.

I thought about the money I’d saved, about how simple the plan was, about how unspectacular it must have looked from the outside, and yet there she was, delighted, walking with me and kissing my cheek as if that were enough. Maybe it was... maybe it was always enough. I squeezed her hand a little tighter and she didn’t say anything, she just intertwined her fingers more tightly as if she were answering me without words, and in that moment, with the lake behind us, the ducks still floating, and the ice far away, I knew I didn’t need grand gestures.

With ____, even the falls felt a little less painful, and for someone like me, that was already a huge deal. I should have known that agreeing to step onto the rink was a bad idea from the moment I felt the cold seep through the soles of my skates. It wasn’t just any cold; it was a treacherous kind, the sort that promises fun and then strips you of all dignity in front of strangers, ____, on the other hand, seemed to float, literally; she moved with a confidence that was almost offensive to me, as if the ice recognized her and decided to behave itself only for her.

— Don't let go — she said, turning just enough to look at me — Trust me

Trusting ____ wasn't the problem; the problem was the ice, my feet, and the law of gravity, which clearly had something personal against me. I took a step, then another; my arms moved ridiculously, searching for balance in the air as if that would help in any way, ____ held my hand firmly, but I knew that if I fell, I would fall like a sack of potatoes, without grace, and without dignity.

— You look good — she said very seriously.

— You’re lying — I muttered under my breath.

I didn’t get to finish the sentence when my right skate decided to go rogue, everything happened fast, a slip, an undignified sound escaping my throat, and then the impact against the ice; the only thing that saved me from falling completely on my own was that in my desperate attempt to grab onto something, I ended up taking ____ with me.

— Felix! — she exclaimed, somewhere between surprised and amused, before falling down next to me.

We were both on the floor staring at the rink's roof, me with my pride wounded and her...laughing, not a small laugh, no, a clear, free laugh, the kind that makes several people around us turn to look.

— This is officially humiliating — I muttered.

— It’s adorable — she corrected, turning her head to look at me — Though I admit your technique is questionable.

— Technique? — I snorted — I’m just trying to survive — ____ sat up nimbly, resting one hand on the ice and then offering me the other.

— Come on, I’ll help you — I agreed, though getting up was almost as difficult as falling; once on my feet, I clung to her as if my life depended on it... which it probably did

— You know? — she remarked as we moved forward slowly — If I hadn’t gone into ballet, I think I would have done figure skating — I glanced at her suspiciously

— You already said that months ago

— Really? — she asked, surprised — I forgot...

— Aha, I remember because you were so convinced you would’ve been amazing.

— I would’ve been — she said without a trace of doubt — But I still like that you listen to me, even if I repeat things.

— Listening to you isn’t the problem; the problem is that while you’re talking, I’m struggling not to break something — I remarked. She laughed, slowing down a bit to match my pace.

— Well, Mr. Boyfriend — she added suddenly — if you survive this, I expect flowers afterward — she said with a mischievous smile. I looked at her in disbelief.

— Flowers?

— Yes — she nodded, — I deserve them for bringing you here.

— That’s emotional blackmail.

— And it works — she replied, smiling.

I couldn’t help but laugh, but just then, as if the universe wanted to remind me who was in charge, I lost my balance again. This time it was worse. Not only did I fall, but I dragged her down with me… again. Round two of public humiliation.

— It’s okay — I said from the floor — I need to ask you something — She leaned in a little, still laughing.

— Tell me, Felixie — I ignored the nickname, though I couldn’t fake a smile

— Is this some kind of advanced flirting? Because if it is, I have to admit it’s pretty aggressive — ____ raised an eyebrow and then, without warning, leaned in to give me a quick kiss, just a warm brush of her lips that contrasted brutally with the cold of the ice

— Maybe — she whispered. That was all, that and a smile that left me completely disarmed

She got up first and, with infinite patience, helped me to my feet again. This time I didn’t protest; I just followed her, focusing on not falling again. We managed to take one more slow, clumsy, but complete lap, and for me, that was already a victory. When we finally left the rink, I collapsed onto a bench with an exaggerated sigh.

— Never again — I announced — My body isn’t built for this — ____ sat down next to me, smoothing her hair

— Liar, you’d do it again if I asked you to — she accused me, and I looked at how she was slightly flushed from the cold and the way her eyes sparkled after laughing so much

— Probably, and that’s what’s worrying — I replied. ____ leaned against my shoulder a little, satisfied.

— So… the flowers? — she whispered, looking away and tilting her head. I sighed in defeat.

The walk back to the apartment was peaceful, filled with that kind of comfortable silence that doesn’t feel heavy, ____ walked beside me with the bouquet of flowers pressed against her chest as if it were a newly discovered treasure; every so often she would look down to adjust the stems or straighten a petal that had bent in the wind, and she would smiling, not a big or exaggerated smile, but a small, almost secret one, the kind that appears when someone is genuinely happy and doesn’t need to announce it.

I watched her out of the corner of my eye, pretending to pay attention to the road, but in reality I was thinking that there were few things I liked more than seeing her like that, happy over something simple, over flowers, over a date that was nothing spectacular, but that felt right. When we walked into the apartment, the sound of the TV greeted us immediately. Rhea was sprawled on the couch with Donatello settled on her lap as if he were a particularly slow cat; she had an open bag of snacks and an expression that was far too amused for my taste.

— Look at him, Donatello — she said as soon as she saw us. — The great ice champion has returned.

— Don't start — I said, rolling my eyes

— How can I not start? — she continued — You look like someone who got into a fight with the floor...and lost — ____ let out a soft chuckle, but immediately defended me

— It wasn’t that bad, and besides, he was very brave — she clarified. “Brave,” ha, I almost choked on my breath…

— Thanks — I whispered, then looked at Rhea and pointed at ____ — See? Moral support

Rhea raised an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced, while Donatello poked his head out with that eternal expression that seemed to say he’d seen worse. ____ looked at the bouquet again as if she’d just remembered she had it.

— I think I’m going to take a shower; I want to go to sleep

— Good idea — I replied quickly, too quickly; she gave me a suspicious sideways glance

— Felix

— What? — I asked, following her a couple of steps as she headed toward the hallway — I’m just saying... I could join you — I lowered my voice, moving a little closer than necessary — I can be... useful. — ____ stopped and looked at me amusedly, that look that always disarmed me because it mixed mischief with tenderness, as if she knew exactly what I was thinking and still found it funny.

— You can be sexy, but the answer is still no — she said calmly, making me freeze.

— Did you say...?

— No — she repeated — I said no

But it was too late; my brain had gotten stuck on the important part: “Sexy.” She kept walking as if nothing had happened while I stood there smiling like an idiot in the middle of the hallway. Before entering the bathroom, she turned around, placed the small bouquet of flowers on my chest, and shut the door right in my face.

— Hey, that was cruel — I protested, but the door was already shut. I looked down, still holding the flowers, and there was Donatello on the floor staring at me. I swear, if that turtle could talk, he’d be judging me mercilessly. — What? She called me sexy — Donatello didn’t move, not even a blink, nothing, pure judgment. I went back to the couch and plopped down next to Rhea, still wearing a smile I couldn’t wipe off — ____ called me sexy — I announced

— So? — she replied without even looking at me — What the fuck do I care?

— You’re just jealous.

— I’m realistic — she corrected — Now move, I need my personal space.

I settled in more comfortably, carefully placing the flowers on the table. The TV was still playing in the background, but I could barely hear it; my mind was still in the hallway, on that word ____ had let slip so naturally, “Sexy.” It wasn’t something people said to me often—not like that, not her. The sound of the shower began to drift in from the distance, and for some reason, that made me smile even more. I felt ridiculously good, tired and a little sore from the ice, but good.

— You look stupid — Rhea commented without taking her eyes off the screen

— I’m happy — I replied

— That’s worse.... — I laughed. Donatello was still standing there motionless, as if he were part of the furniture. I took one of the flowers from the bouquet and placed it in front of him

— For you, for witnessing my victory — the turtle didn’t react… what an ungrateful creature

A few minutes later, ____ came out of the bathroom with wet hair and comfortable clothes; she looked relaxed, as if the cold from the ice no longer existed. She looked at me for a second and smiled

— Everything okay? — she asked

— Perfect — I replied, and I meant it, because there we were, in the apartment with flowers on the table, a turtle judging me, Rhea being unbearable as always... and ____ walking toward me as if that were her natural place. Maybe I fell on the ice, maybe I made a fool of myself, but at the end of the day, she had taken my hand, kissed me, and called me sexy. I think I won.

I was still sitting on the couch, leaning back casually with my legs spread so that ____ could settle between them; I had a towel draped over my shoulders and my hair was still damp, and I was holding the hair dryer as if it were a sacred tool. I wasn’t particularly good at that sort of thing, but I liked doing it, I liked the way she trusted me enough to stay still and relaxed, letting my fingers weave through her locks while the warm air did its work.

— Don't hold it so close, you're going to burn me — she murmured

— Trust me — I replied — I'm practically a professional

____ She let out a soft laugh, the kind that makes no sound but can be felt. I lowered the dryer a little and took the opportunity to run my fingers through her hair, parting it carefully. It was soft, it always was, and for some reason that detail never ceased to amaze me.

Across from us, Rhea was sitting sideways, completely focused on a task of vital importance: trying a ridiculously small hat on Donatello. The turtle remained motionless and resigned while Rhea adjusted the angle of the hat as if she were preparing for a professional photo shoot.

— Perfect, Donatello, look at me... look at me, this is fashion — Donatello didn’t look at her

— He’s more patient than you — I remarked

— That’s not hard — she replied without looking at me. A comfortable silence followed, interrupted only by the sound of the hair dryer and the TV in the background, until Rhea suddenly turned her head with that dangerous smile I already knew

— Hey, Felix, I have a question — that tone was never a good sign

— I don’t like the sound of that

— What did you do to make ____ call you sexy? — she asked, making me almost drop the hair dryer. ____ lifted her head slightly, clearly amused, though she didn’t say anything; she just waited. I turned off the hair dryer with exaggerated calm, as if I needed a few seconds to mentally prepare myself

— Well — I began — It’s not something just anyone can pull off

— Aha, go on — Rhea murmured

— First, I survived the ice rink; that already earns me points. Second, I protected her from a deadly fall

— You took me down with you when you fell — ____ corrected me, laughing

— Minor details — I replied — Third, I bought her flowers

— That’s certainly true — ____ admitted

— And fourth — I added, puffing out my chest a little — I have a natural charm that’s impossible to ignore — Rhea looked at me with a “This guy is a lost cause” expression

— What a surprise, I thought you were going to say something real

— All of that is real — I defended myself, ____ laughed even harder this time, turning her head slightly to look at Rhea

— Don’t listen to him, he’s exaggerating

— Hey — I protested — Don’t ruin the legend

I turned the hair dryer off completely and left the towel draped over the back of the sofa; ____’s hair was already dry and loose, falling down her back. I ran my hand through it one last time, just because I could.

— All done, job finished, madam — ____ stood up slowly and turned toward Rhea

— I’m going to bed now — she announced — Good night — Rhea raised a hand without taking her eyes off Donatello

— Good night, don’t break anything — ____ shook her head amusedly and then came over to me, leaned in slightly, and gave me a soft kiss on the cheek

— I’ll wait for you in bed — she murmured; I felt my chest swell with pride

— Duty calls — I said, standing up. She rolled her eyes and started walking toward the bedroom; I followed her, clearly with other intentions, reaching out to touch her waist.

— Felix — she warned without turning around.

— I’m just walking — I replied innocently.

— That’s not true — she said, laughing. She walked into the bedroom and flopped down on the bed on her back, taking up the center as if it were rightfully hers. I stood there for a second, watching her.

 — That was an invitation — I remarked.

— It was a strategic retreat — she corrected. I quickly changed into my pajamas without much effort and flopped down beside her. She settled in right away, turning toward me.

 — Aren't you going to take a shower? — she asked in a sleepy voice.

— I wanted to, but my girlfriend shut the door in my face. — I replied. ____ lifted her head just enough to look at me.

— Cheeky. — she whispered, but hugged me without another word, resting her head on my chest as if the matter were settled. Her breathing began to slow almost immediately. — Good night, sexy boyfriend. — she murmured, half-asleep.

I smiled like an idiot, wrapping an arm around her and gently stroking her hair as if it were something fragile. I didn’t know when this had happened to me, at what exact point my life had become... like this, simple, peaceful, and full of little moments that didn’t need to be impressive to feel important. I closed my eyes, listening to her breathing, thinking that maybe I wasn’t perfect, or elegant, or particularly brilliant, but I was her boyfriend, and apparently a sexy one.

I woke up with that strange feeling in my chest, as if something wasn’t quite right. Half-asleep, I reached out my hand out of habit, looking for ____, hoping to feel her warm back or her hair tangled between my fingers, but I felt nothing.

I opened my eyes with a start; the side of the bed was empty, the sheets, barely rumpled, were cold. I sat up immediately, my heart racing without asking permission. This wasn’t normal. ____ never got up without making a sound, much less without telling me. My mind began to fill the silence with unnecessary thoughts.

— ____? — I called out, already standing up; there was no answer.

I left the room, almost tripping over the rug, still half-asleep but fully alert. The apartment was silent, barely lit by the soft morning light streaming through the windows. I walked down the hallway until, as I passed the kitchen, I heard a voice.

I stopped dead in my tracks. ____ had her back to me, leaning slightly against the counter, still in her pajamas. Her nightgown hung loosely, and her hair was tousled. She held the landline phone in one hand and gestured softly with the other as she spoke… in German.

— Nein, Großmutter, ich esse gut, Wirklich (No, Grandma, I’m eating well, really) — she said with a smile in her voice — Du musst dir keine Sorgen machen (You don’t have to worry)

I stood there leaning against the doorframe, watching her as if it were the first time I’d ever seen her; there was something intimate about that scene, something that didn’t quite belong to me, ____ in her pajamas in my kitchen, talking to someone she clearly had known long before I did. As if she sensed my gaze, she turned her head; her eyes met mine, and instead of being surprised, she smiled, a calm and warm smile.

— Ja, ich bin sehr glücklich (Yes, I’m very happy) — she said into the phone, then added, — Eigentlich...ich möchte dir meinen Freund vorstellen (Actually...I want to introduce you to my boyfriend).

____ motioned to me with her free hand, beckoning me to come closer. I walked over, not understanding a single word, until I was standing beside her.

— It's my grandmother, say hello to her — she whispered. Before I could think too much, she put the call on speaker and held the phone a little closer.

— Um... hello, ma'am — I greeted her nervously — Nice to meet you

There was a brief silence followed by a woman’s voice on the other end of the line. She was older, you could tell by her tone, but she had a warmth that came through the speaker with ease.

— Ach, hallo! Wie schön, deine Stimme zu hören (Oh, hello! What a joy to hear your voice) — I went completely blank; I looked at ____, clearly lost. She smiled even more and leaned in a little, almost resting against me.

— She says she’s very happy to hear from you — she translated.

— Ah, tell her that… um… the pleasure is all mine — I said quickly. ____ chuckled softly and spoke again in German.

— Er sagt, dass es ihm eine Freude ist (He says it’s a pleasure for him) — her grandmother replied almost immediately

— Und wie heißt du, junger Mann? (And what’s your name, young man?) — she asked; ____ translated for me in a whisper, and I stared at the phone as if her grandmother were about to appear from it

— Felix, my name is Felix — ____ repeated my name in German, and her grandmother made a small sound of approval

— Ein schöner Name (A beautiful name)

— She says you have a beautiful name — ____ translated, looking at me with that expression of hers that always disarmed me a little

— Tell her thank you — I replied, scratching the back of my neck — And that... I hope I’m not interrupting

— Er hofft, dass er nicht stört (He hopes he’s not interrupting) — she translated; the grandmother’s laugh was soft, almost musical... exactly like ____’s

— Nein, nein, ich freue mich sehr, ____ erzählt mir oft von dir (No, no, I’m very happy; ____ tells me a lot about you) — ____ avoided looking at me, clearly a little embarrassed, but she smiled

— She says...I talk about you a lot — she confessed to me; that made me sit up a little straighter; I felt something strange tightening in my chest, something good and dangerous

— Oh, really? — I asked in a low voice — Well, tell her...that...that I take good care of you — I said after a second — That you’re incredible — ____ looked up at me in surprise and then translated carefully

— Er sagt, dass er gut auf mich aufpasst, und dass er mich unglaublich findet — there was a pause on the other end of the line, and then her grandmother’s voice sounded softer

— Ich bin sehr glücklich, pass gut auf sein Herz auf, er hat seit dem Tod seiner Mutter viel gelitten... (That makes me happy, take good care of his heart; he’s suffered a lot since his mother passed away...) — ____ didn’t translate right away; she stayed silent for a second with her eyes downcast, and then spoke

— She says... she’s asking you to take care... of my heart — I nodded, not quite sure what to say

— I will... really — I said simply. ____ translated, and her grandmother replied in a satisfied tone

— Dann bin ich beruhigt (Then I’m put at peace)

The conversation went on for a few more minutes—simple questions about how we met, whether I was studying, whether I was working. ____ patiently translated everything, sometimes adding a detail of her own. I answered as best I could, aware that I was speaking to someone important, someone who had been a part of ____’s life when I didn’t even exist in her world. Finally, her grandmother said goodbye

— Pass auf dich auf, meine Kleine (Take care of yourself, my little one)

— Ich liebe dich (I love you) — ____ replied softly. She hung up the phone carefully and stood still for a few seconds, as if she didn’t want to break the moment. I looked at her, unsure whether to say something or just stay there

— Your grandmother is... just like you, I said finally with an awkward smile. ____ laughed softly.

— She liked you. That doesn’t happen easily with her — she replied. I don’t know why, but that phrase stuck with me. I moved a little closer and rested my forehead against hers.

— So I guess I’m doing something right — I whispered. She closed her eyes, smiling, and for the first time in a long time, I didn’t feel like I was winging it in life; I felt like maybe I was starting to be part of something worth holding onto

____ hugged me without warning, as if the gesture had been waiting its turn for a while. She wrapped her arms around my waist and rested her cheek against my chest, still warm from the conversation with her grandmother. I instinctively lowered my chin, resting it on her head and breathing in the familiar scent of her shampoo. It was a simple, domestic gesture, but it straightened something inside me that I didn’t know was crooked.

— Good morning — I murmured before kissing her

It was a quiet kiss, the kind that seeks nothing more than to say “I’m here,” just lips meeting with the confidence of those who already know each other’s rhythm. ____ responded immediately, smiling faintly against my mouth. When we parted, her nose brushed against mine, and she looked at me with those half-asleep eyes that always left me defenseless.

— Good morning — she repeated softly.

I stayed watching her for a second longer, as if I were still processing the scene from a moment ago, ____ speaking in German, introducing me as her boyfriend, patiently translating for me, including me without hesitation. I felt something akin to pride... and also a silent sense of responsibility. She was the first to break the moment.

— Hey — she said, still hugging me — Could you teach me how to cook later?

— Teach you how to cook? You? — I repeated, raising an eyebrow. ____ She pulled away just enough to look at me better, crossing her arms with feigned seriousness.

— Yes, me — she replied. — Not everyone is born knowing how to survive on whatever’s in the fridge.

— Hey, my improvised cooking is an art; few people appreciate the talent — I protested. She let out a soft laugh and shook her head.

— I mean it, Felix — she continued — So when you stay at my apartment... — she paused briefly, as if weighing her words — ...You won't have to cook dinner all by yourself anymore — that sentence sank in slowly, like a piece of a puzzle falling into place; I felt a smile escape me before I could stop it

— Is that a formal invitation? — I asked, resting a hand on her waist — Or are you just trying to save me from my own recipes?

— A little of both — she admitted — Besides, I want to learn. My grandmother always said that cooking for someone is also a way of caring for them — that completely disarmed me

— Your grandmother is wise; she says things that are way too wise for this time of morning — I declared. ____ laughed and hugged me again, this time tighter.

— So… would you teach me?

— Of course I would — I replied without hesitation — Though I’m warning you now, I’m better at eating than explaining.

— It doesn’t matter; I’m a quick learner.

We stayed like that for a moment, hugging in the middle of the kitchen until the silence began to fill with small noises: the distant hum of the fridge, the slow shuffling of Donatello near the wall, the faint murmur of Rhea moving around in her room.

— You know what’s funny? — I remarked

— What? — ____ asked without letting go

— That a few months ago, this apartment was just noise, chaos, and takeout, and now you’re here, talking to your grandmother in German, planning for us to cook together — ____ lifted her head and looked at me with a gentle expression

— Does that scare you? — she asked, and I shook my head

— No — I replied honestly — It calms me down. — she smiled contentedly and rested her forehead against my chest again

— Me too — I leaned in slightly to kiss her hair

— Then later we’ll make something simple, pasta maybe, or something that doesn’t involve setting the kitchen on fire

— Sounds good to me, but you promise not to make fun of me if I cut something wrong

— I don’t promise anything, but I can tease you affectionately — I replied with a crooked smile

— Felix...

— All right, all right — I relented — I’ll behave myself — We parted ways when we heard a louder noise in the hallway; Rhea appeared, her hair a bit messy, holding a pillow and looking suspicious

— Why do I feel like I walked into a scene that’s way too sweet for this house? — she remarked. ____ blushed a little, but didn’t pull away from me.

— Good morning — she said politely.

— Good morning — Rhea replied. — Did I interrupt something?

— Always — I replied, and Rhea rolled her eyes.

— I’m going to pretend I didn’t see anything — she said as she headed toward the coffee maker. — But if you plan on cooking, let me know; I don’t want to die from food poisoning.

— We will — ____ replied with a friendly smile. Rhea looked at her for a second and then at me.

— Make sure she doesn’t cut herself — she told me matter-of-factly, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. I nodded. When Rhea left, ____ looked at me amusedly

— It seems like everyone’s giving you instructions today

— Yeah, and I don’t mind obeying — I replied. She laughed and took my hand

— So… shall we have breakfast first?

— Definitely. Cooking on an empty stomach is a bad idea.

We walked together toward the table without letting go, as if it were already natural for us to move like that, and as I sat down across from her, I thought that maybe I didn’t know how to cook everything… but there were things that, without realizing it, I was learning very well.

Breakfast in the apartment was never quiet, not because we talked a lot, but because there was always some strange background noise: the coffee maker gurgling as if it were about to die, Donatello dragging his shell with almost offensive patience, or Rhea tapping the table with her spoon when her coffee got cold. That morning was no exception.

____ was sitting across from me with a cup in her hands, still in her pajamas and her hair pulled back in anything but a neat style. I couldn’t stop looking at her, not in a blatant way, well, maybe a little, but there was something reassuring about seeing her like that, so comfortable, so much a part of the place, as if she had always belonged at that table.

— I’m seriously thinking about finding a mate for Donatello — Rhea said suddenly, stirring her coffee — Nesting season is coming up, and I’ve held him back quite a bit — I looked up from my cup

— What’s that? — I asked, confused. Rhea sighed as if she’d been waiting for that question ever since she’d met me

— Nesting season — she repeated. — It’s when the turtles… you know — she murmured, but I didn’t know. I looked at Donatello, who was standing still near the wall, watching us with his perpetually judgmental face.

— Is he moving? Or going on a spiritual journey? — I asked. She let out a small laugh and set her cup down on the table.

— No, it’s when they try to reproduce — she replied

— Oh — I murmured, nodding slowly — So, when they have sex — Rhea shot me a murderous look

— Don’t put it like that — she growled, and I shrugged

— What? It’s biology — ____ laughed again, shaking her head

— It's a little more than that; nesting is when they prepare a place for the eggs — I processed that last part half a second too late, because my brain decided to take a very dangerous shortcut

— So... — I began, leaning back in my chair with a sly smile — Are you saying it's like a special stage? — ____ looked at me curiously, and Rhea already knew something bad was coming — Aha — I continued — A specific season for reproduction... — I made a sweeping gesture with my hand, looking at ____ — Hey, pretty girl, maybe we should have a nesting season too

The silence that followed was spectacular. Rhea looked at me as if I’d just said the stupidest thing she’d ever heard in her entire life. I’m not exaggerating. It was a mix of disgust, exhaustion, and the urge to throw a cup at my head.

— You're... — she began, but stopped — No, I'm not going to waste my breath — ____, on the other hand, froze for a second... and then blushed immediately

— Felix, that's not it — she whispered, embarrassed

— No? — I asked, genuinely confused — You said reproduce

— Yes, but... — she cleared her throat — Nesting implies offspring, babies — that word clicked, the smile faded from my face just a little, enough for my brain to finally catch up with my mouth

— Ah — I said again, this time more slowly. I looked at Rhea, looked at ____, then looked back at Donatello, who was still standing there, completely oblivious to the conceptual crisis he’d caused. — Okay, now I get it.

— Thank goodness — Rhea murmured.

— So no... definitely not the same — ____ looked at me with a mixture of relief and restrained embarrassment

— Exactly

— I mean — I continued because I didn’t know how to stay quiet — I’m not saying I wouldn’t... but no... not at a breakfast table with a turtle in the middle

— Felix! — Rhea exclaimed

— What? I’m just clarifying — I defended myself. ____ brought a hand to her face, laughing softly.

— You have no filter — she murmured.

— I never have. It’s part of my charm — I replied. Rhea shook her head.

— I'm going to move Donatello before this guy explains something to you that you don't need to hear — she crouched down carefully and picked up the turtle — You and I are going to pretend this conversation never happened — she said to Donatello

— Hey, I was just joking — I protested

— Right, and Donatello is a cat — when Rhea left the kitchen, ____ gave me a sidelong glance

— Sometimes I don’t know if you do it on purpose

— I always do it on purpose; it’s just that sometimes I don’t think through the consequences — I replied, and she sighed, but smiled

— Promise me something

— It depends

— That you’ll never use the word “nesting” in reference to us again… it’s embarrassing and weird

— I won’t promise anything, but I can try — I replied, and ____ gave me a light tap on the arm

I rested my elbow on the table and watched her eat breakfast, thinking that despite my stupid jokes and my big mouth, there was something very serious about all of this, and for the first time, that idea didn’t scare me at all.

-----------------------------

Heyyyy, watch your mouth, Felix. If you spit upward, it’ll land right in your face 👊

Fun fact: Liora’s grandmother’s dialogue has different versions, but they all include the line “…take good care of your heart…blah blah blah.”

Anyway, I hope you liked it. Don’t forget to give it a heart, comment, and follow me for more updates. Thanks so much for reading. See you next Sunday ( ‘･･)ﾉ(._.’)

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[autorapan]

𝐀 𝐁𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭 - 𝟕.𝟓.- 𝐅𝐥𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐀𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐖𝐚𝐲 (part 7.5/?)

𝐋𝐢𝐨𝐫𝐚

I was clinging to Felix as if the world had shrunk to just his back and the constant roar of the motorcycle; the wind seeped in from every direction, tangling itself in my hair and barely lifting the skirt I’d chosen so carefully. It still seemed absurd to me that I’d dressed so formally only to end up like this, riding what Felix unabashedly called “his second girlfriend", the motorcycle, his beloved motorcycle.

My arms were wrapped firmly around his waist, not just for balance, but because there, pressed against him, my nervousness seemed to ease a little. Felix was driving as usual, safe and confident with that ease that made me feel nothing could go wrong as long as I was back there; even so, my head wouldn’t stop spinning.

I didn’t know exactly why I’d been invited; I only knew we were going to lunch at Rhea’s mother’s house, Mrs. Susan’s. That name sounded both familiar and distant to me. I’d seen her a few times at the conservatory, sitting in the audience, always effortlessly elegant, chatting with Charlotte before or after a performance. Charlotte and I were friends, very close friends, but Susan and I had never exchanged more than a distant greeting or a polite smile from afar, nothing formal, nothing real... and now I was going to meet her.

I’d imagined the trip differently; I thought the three of us would take the subway, or maybe the train. I thought there’d be time to catch my breath, to calm my nerves. That’s why I dressed like this, why I chose that blouse, that skirt, those shoes, which right now seemed like a bad idea on a motorcycle. Felix had shown up to pick me up without warning, helmet under his arm and a crooked smile.

— Let's go — he had said as if it were the most natural thing in the world, and now here we were

When he finally stopped and turned off the engine, it took me a second to let go; my hands were still clinging to his jacket as if doing so were the only thing keeping me steady. I got off carefully, adjusting my skirt immediately, conscious of every movement, of every possible glance, even though no one was watching.

The house in front of me wasn’t what I’d imagined; it was…friendly. That was the first word that came to mind. It wasn’t big or ostentatious; it didn’t feel imposing. It was a little house with flowers in the garden, soft colors, and a gravel path that crunched underfoot, and a door that looked like it had been opened and closed thousands of times, full of life, of visitors, of stories.

I stood there staring at it for a second too long. Felix came over and untied the jacket he’d tied around my waist to protect me from the wind during the trip. He took off my helmet and smoothed my hair.

— Don’t get nervous — he said, leaning down just enough to kiss me on the cheek. — Susan is kind, really.

I nodded, though I wasn’t sure I fully believed him, not because I doubted him, but because I always doubted myself in these situations; mothers were… a delicate matter, even more so when it came to someone so important to Felix and Rhea. I took a deep breath.

— It's okay, — I replied, more to convince myself than to reassure him. — I'm fine.

Felix glanced at me as if he knew I was lying a little, but he didn't say anything. He simply held out his hand, and I took it without thinking. We walked together along the path, the sound of the pebbles marking each step like a silent count; every step made me think more.

About Charlotte, about how much I loved her, about how she always spoke of her mother with a mix of respect and affection, about how Rhea referred to that house as home even now that she no longer lived there, about what it meant to be invited into that space. Felix raised his hand to ring the doorbell, but before he could, the door opened and Mrs. Susan was there.

She was shorter than I remembered, with her hair pulled back simply and a smile that appeared before I could even say anything; her eyes darted from Felix to me quickly, with curiosity and something else I couldn’t quite identify right away.

— So you must be ____ — she said in a warm voice that caught me off guard; I straightened up immediately.

— Yes, Mrs. Susan, nice to meet you — I replied; she shook her head instantly.

— No need to call me Mrs. Susan, just Susan is fine — she said, smiling even more; I relaxed just enough to return her smile.

— Nice to meet you, Susan

Felix let out a small sigh beside me as if something inside him had settled upon hearing that. Susan gave him a quick hug, one of those that need no explanation, and then turned back to look at me.

— Come in, please. Lunch is almost ready.

I stepped inside carefully, taking it all in. The interior of the house was just as cozy as the exterior, with photographs on the walls, plants in the corners, and a table already set with dishes that didn’t look like they were for a special occasion, but rather for everyday use. It made me think that this was a place where the family really ate together. I took off my shoes instinctively, even though no one asked me to. Susan noticed and smiled.

— You can leave them there — he said. — Charlotte and Rhea aren’t here yet, but they shouldn’t be long.

I nodded as I put my things away, suddenly feeling very self-conscious about every movement. Felix moved with ease, as if the space belonged to him as much as his own apartment; I, on the other hand, walked carefully, as if I were afraid of breaking something invisible.

Susan watched me from time to time without making me uncomfortable, like someone trying to understand a new person without intruding, and I wondered for the first time since I’d accepted the invitation if maybe it hadn’t been a mistake to come. But when Felix took my hand again, gently yet firmly, as if to say, “I’m here with you,” I knew that at least for today, I could try to stay and keep moving forward.

I don’t know exactly when I stopped looking at the house and started looking at Susan, but it was inevitable. Felix was talking to her with that ease he only has with people he’s known forever, leaning back in his chair and gesturing with one hand while holding a cup in the other. I stayed a little on the sidelines, sitting properly with my hands clasped in my lap, as if my body remembered on its own how to behave when it wants to make a good impression.

Susan was laughing at something Felix said, tilting her head back just a little; that simple gesture pierced me without warning. My mother laughed the same way, not loudly, not exaggeratedly, but with a gentleness that seemed like an invitation to come closer, as if the world were a little less heavy for a few seconds. I blinked, surprised by the familiarity of the thought.

It wasn’t sadness I felt, nor that dense knot that sometimes appears when I remember her; it was something different and warm, like when an old song plays on someone else’s radio and yet, you know the lyrics exactly. Susan stood up to greet Rhea and Charlotte when they arrived and hugged them in that enveloping, protective way, running one hand down their back and the other through their hair. My mother used to do that with me after every performance, even when I felt I hadn’t been up to the task; she’d tell me that the body learns, that the heart already knows. I realized I was smiling without meaning to.

— ____ — Susan called out suddenly, turning toward me — Can I ask you a question? — I nodded immediately, sitting up a little straighter

— Sure — I replied; her tone wasn’t inquisitive or solemn, it was curious and genuine

— How long have you been doing ballet?

The question was simple; I’d answered it many times before in brief interviews, on forms, in quick conversations with people who didn’t really expect an answer, but here at that table, surrounded by the aroma of home-cooked food and soft laughter, the question felt different.

— Since I was a little girl — I replied — I formally started at eight at the conservatory, but before that... — I hesitated for a second, not out of pain, but out of respect for the memory — My mom was a ballet dancer; she taught me from as far back as I can remember — Susan nodded slowly, as if that information fit perfectly with something she’d already sensed

— You can tell; there’s a special way of moving when ballet isn’t just a discipline, but a language learned at home — she commented. I felt my chest tighten, not with sadness, but with recognition. — Your mom must have been incredible — Susan added with the same naturalness with which one states that the sky is blue.

There was no awkward pause, no heavy silence that usually follows when someone mentions someone who is no longer here. She didn’t say it with sorrow, nor with excessive caution; she said it as an obvious truth. My heart shrank, but in a gentle way, as if settling into a smaller, safer space.

— Yes — I replied, smiling — she was.

And as I said it, I didn’t feel like she was trying to convince me; I knew it, I remembered it clearly: my mother turning in front of the mirror in the small studio we had at home, correcting my posture with firm, warm hands, telling me not to dance to be perfect, but to be honest.

The conversation continued to flow with an ease that surprised me. Susan asked about the conservatory, about Charlotte, about the long rehearsals and the performances that seemed to last forever from the outside, but that for us passed in the blink of an eye. I answered without feeling that usual knot in my stomach, without the feeling of taking an exam.

At some point, Felix looked at me from across the table with a calm, almost proud expression. He didn’t say anything, didn’t make any comments; he just held my gaze a second longer than necessary, as if to say, “Everything is fine” and it was.

Rhea and Charlotte were chatting among themselves, comparing schedules, complaining about demanding professors, and celebrating small achievements. Susan was coming and going from the kitchen, serving dishes, asking if anyone wanted more, making sure everyone was comfortable. The scene was so domestic, so simple, that it struck me as almost strange, not because it was foreign, but because it felt so close.

For a moment, I felt as if I were thirteen again, not before a competition, not before a loss, but on just another afternoon with the promise of a delicious dinner and a quiet evening, that age when the future doesn’t weigh heavily yet, when Susan sat back down and gave me a gentle smile.

— I'm glad you're here, ____. Felix talks about you a lot — Felix let out a protesting sound from where he was sitting

— Hey... — Susan ignored him completely

— And I like the way he looks at you — she added without malice, just with that calm intuition some mothers have. I felt my cheeks grow warm, but I didn't look away

— Thank you, I’m glad to be here too, — I replied, and I meant it.

As the conversation continued and the afternoon wore on, I understood something I hadn’t been able to put into words until that moment: I wasn’t replacing anything or anyone; I wasn’t betraying memories; I was simply allowing myself to feel that warmth again without guilt. My mother would have wanted that.

I knew it with a quiet certainty as I listened to Susan’s laughter mingle with the voices of everyone at the table, and I thought that perhaps some spaces aren’t filled to forget, but to remember in a different way.

It was already night when I said goodbye to Susan; the warm light from inside the house contrasted with the cool air seeping in from the garden, and for a second I had the strange feeling that time had stretched out inside, as if the hours had been kinder. Susan wrapped me in a warm embrace, the kind that isn’t rushed or awkward; her perfume was soft and clean, and it reminded me once again of something I didn’t know I was looking for.

— I'm so glad to have met you, ____, and if you'd like, we'd love for you to spend Thanksgiving with us — she said. I blinked in surprise, but nodded almost immediately

— I'd love to, thank you so much — I replied. Susan smiled contentedly and then lowered her voice slightly, as if sharing a secret

— And I’m glad Felix has such a nice girl as his girlfriend — she added, glancing at him out of the corner of her eye. — If he ever makes you angry… let me know, okay? I’ll take care of scolding that boy.

— Hey! — Felix protested instantly. — Whose side are you on? — I couldn’t help but laugh, a light, sincere laugh.

— I'll keep that in mind — I said, still smiling

Felix shook his head, feigning indignation, and Susan waved goodbye as I walked toward the motorcycle. I tied my jacket around my waist again to protect my skirt from the wind, and before putting on my helmet, I turned around without meaning to and saw Susan hugging Felix again. he exaggerated the gesture, cringing as if it were torture, but he didn’t pull away; there was something very tender about that scene, something that stayed with me, Felix finally came over and carefully placed the helmet on my head, adjusting it snugly under my chin.

— Ready — he whispered. Before we got on, Rhea poked her head through the door

— Remember rule three! — she shouted, leaving Susan confused. Felix gave a thumbs-up with a smile... and then slowly lowered it with a mischievous grin. I gave him a little tap on the arm

— Behave yourself — I murmured. I did give him a thumbs-up.

— Traitor — he whispered, getting on the motorcycle.

I settled in behind him, wrapping my arms around him, and soon the sound of the engine blended into the quiet night. Felix’s apartment was silent when we walked in. As soon as I crossed the threshold, I took off my shoes and collapsed onto the couch with a long sigh.

— I ate too much — I murmured without moving

— I told you not to take that third plate — Felix teased, sitting down next to me as he turned on the TV — Now don’t complain — Donatello walked slowly across the floor, watching us as if evaluating our life choices

— I think he’s judging us — I remarked

— He always does — he replied — It’s his favorite pastime — he settled in more comfortably and, after a few seconds, glanced at me out of the corner of his eye — Did you like it? — I nodded, resting my head against the back of the couch

— Yeah, it was fun, and Mrs. Susan is really nice

— She is; she saved me from a lot of trouble when I was younger — he remarked

— I can imagine

I moved a little closer and rested my head on his shoulder, letting fatigue overcome me while the TV played in the background. Felix slipped an arm around my shoulders without squeezing, just being there. After a while, he spoke again.

— Hey… you’ve barely told me anything about your mom — he said carefully — I know she was German and that she also danced ballet, but not much else — I settled more comfortably in his arms; I didn’t feel uncomfortable with the question, just sincere curiosity

— She was very disciplined — I began — but also very sweet. She had a little music box... she’d play it every morning before practice or when I was sick.

— Do you still have it? — The question came out softly, but something in my chest tightened; I felt my eyes well up before I could stop it.

— No — I replied softly — When she died... after she got sick, that little box was all I had left — Felix didn’t say anything, and I was grateful for that — I was eighteen... — I continued — One day I got really angry, I don’t remember exactly why, I guess it was just everything, and... I threw it on the floor of my room — tears began to fall silently, without warning — I regret it… so much. It was the only thing I had left of her — I confessed. Felix hugged me tighter, a firm hand on my back stroking me slowly, as if trying to calm not just my crying, but something deeper

— It wasn’t your fault... — he whispered. I closed my eyes, taking a deep breath, letting him hold me. I didn’t say anything else; there was no need. The silence wasn’t awkward; it was safe, as if, for the first time in a long time, I could rest without fear that the weight of memories would crush me

The silence that followed my words wasn’t awkward; it was... thick, but in a strangely gentle way. Felix didn’t say anything right away, and I thanked him silently. His arms remained firmly around me, as if he had no intention of letting go even if the world tilted a little. I rested my cheek against his chest and closed my eyes, listening to his steady, calm breathing. I thought how I wished my mind could learn that rhythm and stop racing.

I hadn’t lied to him entirely, that’s what I kept telling myself so I wouldn’t feel that lump in my throat grow again. My mother had died, yes, I had broken the music box, too; all of that was true, but there was a bigger, heavier truth that had gotten stuck behind my teeth like a forbidden word, one that, if I said it out loud, I felt could change the way Felix looked at me, or worse, the way I saw myself.

If he knew the whole truth...

The thought appeared on its own without me calling it; I stayed still as if even thinking too hard might give me away. I pressed my fingers against the fabric of his T-shirt ever so slightly, a minimal, almost imperceptible gesture, but one that said more than I dared to say. Felix responded without words; his hand slowly moved up my back and stayed there, warm and present. He didn’t ask for explanations; he didn’t try to fill the space with pretty phrases. He just was there, and that somehow hurt and comforted me at the same time.

I thought of the music box, of how the tiny ballerina spun when I was a child, of how the sound mingled with my mother’s voice gently correcting my posture without harshness, “Relax your shoulders, ____, breathe.” I remembered my hands trembling that day, the pent-up rage I didn’t know where to put, the sharp thud when the box hit the floor, the exact moment I knew there was no turning back. I didn’t break it just out of anger. I broke it because I didn’t know what to do with so much sadness that had nowhere to go.

I swallowed hard; my eyes burned, but I didn’t let the tears fall, not because Felix couldn’t see them, but because those tears belonged to another version of me, a younger, more broken one who wasn’t ready to come to the surface yet—not here, and not now. Someday, I promised myself silently, someday I’d tell him. I didn’t know when or how; I just knew that day couldn’t be today.

Felix shifted his body slightly, settling more comfortably on the sofa, and I let myself drift with him; my back pressed against his side, and for a moment I thought about how easy it was to be like this, how deceptively simple it felt to share a silence without fear that the other would grow tired. I wondered if my mother had had someone like this in her final days, someone who knew how to stay. I didn’t want to keep thinking about it.

— You don’t have to tell me everything — Felix said suddenly, his voice low as if he feared breaking something fragile — Not now

I opened my eyes; I didn’t look at him, but I felt the weight of his words settle gently inside me. It wasn’t a demand or a condition; it was a door left open without pushing me to walk through it.

— I know — I replied, almost in a whisper.

And I really did know it. I knew it because Felix wasn’t demanding the truth like someone collecting a debt; he was offering time and patience, something I hadn’t allowed myself for years. I settled a little deeper into his arms; his T-shirt smelled of detergent and of him, a combination that was already starting to feel familiar. I thought about how strange it was to let someone occupy that space; I thought about how easy it would have been to shut myself off, joke around, and change the subject, but I didn’t do it—that was already a small act of courage.

— My mom… — I began and stopped. Felix didn’t react right away; he didn’t rush me or finish the sentence for me. — She liked her tea with too much sugar — I continued, choosing a safe truth. — She said life was already bitter enough. — I felt him smile, not mockingly, but gently.

— She sounds like an interesting person — he said. She was; she still is, even now.

Exhaustion began to weigh on my eyelids; it wasn’t just physical, it was emotional, as if having brushed against that memory had left me drained. I closed my eyes again and took a deep breath; Felix’s chest rose and fell calmly beneath my cheek. I let myself be carried away by that rhythm. Maybe I couldn’t tell him everything yet; maybe there were truths that needed time to mature before they could be spoken, but in that moment, wrapped in his arms, I knew something clearly: I wasn’t running away; I was waiting. And for the first time in a long time, that waiting didn’t feel lonely.

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Heyyy, how’s it going? I love writing chapters that are the calm before the storm :)

Fact: It’s already 2 a.m. At least I’ve got everything scheduled and transferred a ton of stuff to Doc, the real work. + What do you think was the lie among everything Liora said?

Anyway, I hope you liked it. Don’t forget to hit the heart, comment, and follow me for more updates. Thank you so much for reading. Good night, see you on Wednesday (✿◠‿◠.).

[Previous] | [Start] | [Next] <- this will be edited with the next update <3

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[autorapan]

𝐀 𝐁𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭 - 𝟕.𝟒.- 𝐁𝐞𝐭𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐏𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐨𝐰𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐒𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐬 (part 7.4/?)

⚠️CW: Explicit content [NSFW] 18+, viewer discretion advised. Enjoy 😏✨⚠️

𝐉𝐚𝐱

There was a sort of unspoken routine between us; most of the time, ____ would end up at my apartment, saying she was “just passing by,” that she was only stopping by to say hi to Rhea, that she didn’t plan on staying long… and in the end she’d run late, take off her shoes, claim the couch, and end up sleeping in my bed as if it had always been hers; Rhea adored her, and ____ let herself be loved with a naturalness that disarmed me; they’d chat on the balcony, argue over silly things, laugh at me as if I were part of the furniture.

But there were other, less frequent and quieter times when I was the one crossing the streets on my motorcycle to stay at ____’s apartment… and it was different.

From the moment you walked in, you could tell that place wasn’t mine, everything was in its place; there were no clothes thrown over a chair or forgotten cups on the table. The air smelled clean, or neutral, with a soft undertone of something floral I could never quite identify. The windows let in plenty of light, even at dusk, and the light-colored walls effortlessly reflected that glow. It was a beautiful apartment, too beautiful, just what you’d expect for the daughter of a businessman, anyone would say.

I had my own little space in his closet, a couple of T-shirts, two pairs of pants, a jacket folded neatly. The first time I saw it, I stared at it longer than necessary, as if that small detail meant more than I was willing to admit. ____ said it as if it were nothing, shrugging as if it were the most natural thing in the world for me to have a place there.

— That way you don’t have to bring things when you stay — she explained to me, “When you stay,” not “If you stay.”

Even so, she insisted that her apartment was cold, not because of the temperature, but because of something harder to define. She said it lacked noise, clutter, life, which is why she preferred mine. I never knew how to respond to that, perhaps because deep down I felt that “coldness” had more to do with the absence of people than with the space itself.

That night we were on her couch; the movie had been playing for quite a while, but I had no idea what it was about. There were lights, sounds, and dialogue passing before me without leaving a trace, ____ instead, she was completely absorbed, her legs tucked up on the couch and a light blanket half-covering us; her eyes followed the screen intently, reacting to every scene as if she truly cared about what was happening there.

I held her in my arms, not in a clumsy or awkward way; she fit so perfectly, her back against my chest, her head resting near my shoulder. One of my hands rested on her waist, absentmindedly tracing the curve beneath the fabric of her clothes; the other played with her hair, separating strands and twirling them between my fingers only to let them fall again.

She didn’t protest; sometimes she shifted a little closer, as if seeking to be even nearer. I tilted my head and kissed her neck just below her ear. It was a slow, almost absent-minded gesture, but I felt her breathing change ever so slightly. I smiled against her skin and did it again, leaving small kisses that sought nothing more than to mark my presence.

— Felix — she murmured without taking her eyes off the screen

— Yes? — I replied, my lips still close to her neck

— You're distracting me — he said, though his tone held no real complaint.

I didn't stop. I slid my hand down his arm, tracing soft lines, moving up and down gently. I kissed his neck again, a little higher up this time, and then I stayed there, breathing him in.

I liked how she reacted to such simple things, how she relaxed, how she trusted me, and at the same time something inside me tensed up, an uncomfortable, possessive feeling I didn’t want to name but that was there, lurking.

I found myself thinking of all the people who shared her space when I wasn’t there, her classmates at the conservatory, friends, people who saw her laugh, who listened to her talk about what she was passionate about. I didn’t like the idea at all; my fingers tightened a little more around her waist before I could stop myself. ____ shifted slightly and placed a hand over mine, as if she’d noticed the change.

— Is everything okay? — she asked, turning her head just enough to glance at me out of the corner of her eye. I nodded and loosened my grip, forcing myself to relax.

— Yeah, everything’s fine.

She didn’t press the issue; she went back to watching the movie and left her hand on mine, as if anchoring me there. That simple gesture hit me harder than it should have. I kissed her neck once more, this time more gently, almost like an apology, then rested my chin on her head and stayed still, listening to her breathing and the sound of the TV.

It was strange; in such a tidy, bright place, I felt out of place, and at the same time completely unable to leave, as if my place wasn’t the apartment itself, but the exact spot I occupied next to her on that sofa. ____ sighed contentedly and snuggled a little closer to me; the movie kept playing, I still wasn’t watching it, and for the first time in a long time, I thought that maybe that “Cold” she was talking about wasn’t in her apartment, maybe it was in me.

____’s bed was as tidy as the rest of her apartment, with light-colored sheets, pillows lined up, not a single unnecessary wrinkle. I was already lying there on my side, watching her as she moved around the room with that calmness of hers that seemed rehearsed, as if even the simplest gestures were choreographed.

She was the last to get in; first she sat on the edge of the bed and rubbed lotion into her hands. The soft scent filled the air instantly. I watched her rub her palms together carefully, interlace her fingers, massage her knuckles as if that little ritual were indispensable before sleeping. There was always something about the way she took care of herself that left me speechless.

When she finally settled under the sheets, I didn’t give her time for anything else; I moved closer and wrapped both arms around her, pulling her toward me with an instinctive, almost urgent movement. I kissed her mouth immediately without thinking too much, ____ She responded to the kiss as easily as she breathed, smiling ever so slightly against my lips before returning it and resting a hand on my neck; the world shrank to that touch, to her warmth, to the way we fit together effortlessly. We parted only when we began to run out of air; she looked at me with a gentle smile, the kind that seeks nothing more than to linger there for just a second longer.

— Good night, honey — she whispered

The word fell between us like something too big for the space we occupied. I felt my body tense, not from physical discomfort, but from something deeper. “Honey”, she had never called me like that before, no one ever had, with that naturalness, as if it were obvious, as if there were no risk at all in saying it. I opened my mouth and didn’t know what to do with that.

— No... — I began, frowning — Don’t say that

— That? — she blinked, confused

— Yeah — I replied too quickly — It’s... cheesy and... ridiculous. Don’t be that kind of girlfriend

The words came out worse than they sounded in my head, harsher, more definitive. ____ made a small grimace, not dramatic or exaggerated, just a brief, almost imperceptible gesture, as if something had shifted inside her, then she nodded sympathetically as always.

— Okay — she agreed softly — I’m sorry.

The knot in my stomach appeared too late, when there was nothing left to fix. She shifted again, pulling the covers up to her neck, just enough for me to notice if I was paying attention. She no longer looked at me directly; she rested her head on the pillow and closed her eyes, taking a deep breath once before relaxing.

— Good night, Felix — she whispered, using my name as if she’d never thought of calling me anything else

— Good night — I replied, feeling as though something had slipped through my fingers

I turned off the light and the room fell into semi-darkness, illuminated only by the glow of the city seeping through the window. I lay still, staring at the ceiling, listening to the rhythm of her breathing slow to a steady pace. ____ fell asleep quickly; she always did. I didn’t...

Every time I thought about the way she’d said “Honey”, something tightened in my chest, not because I didn’t want to hear it, on the contrary, because I’d wanted it too much, because it had scared me how easy it had been for her to say it and how impossible it felt for me to accept it, “Don’t be that kind of girlfriend.”

What the hell did that mean? I turned just enough to look at her; she was sleeping on her side, with her back to me and a hand near her face. She looked calm, too calm for someone I’d just set a limit on that she hadn’t asked for. The full weight of the screw-up hit me. Careful not to wake her, I reached out and grabbed my phone from the nightstand, I turned the brightness down to the lowest setting and typed the one name I knew wouldn’t soften the blow at all

Me:

I think I screwed up

The reply came quickly.

Mrs. Rhea 🐢:

Wow, that’s nothing new :)

I sighed, closing my eyes for a second before continuing.

Me:

____ called me “Honey”...

Ms. Rhea 🐢:

And?

Me:

I told her not to be cheesy, not to be that kind of girlfriend

There was a longer pause this time... too long.

Mrs. Rhea 🐢:

...

You’re an idiot, I-D-I-O-T

I couldn’t help but let out a dry, humorless laugh.

Me:

Thanks, seems to be my greatest quality

Mrs. Rhea 🐢:

No, seriously, do you know how hard it is for some people to say that?

I looked at ____ again; she was still asleep, oblivious to the conversation.

Me:

I didn’t know what to do :/

Mrs. Rhea 🐢:

Then don’t do anything, but don’t screw it up

Silence fell again. I locked the phone and left it where it was. I approached ____ carefully once more, wrapping my arms around her from behind. I hesitated for a second before doing so, but finally rested my forehead between her shoulders and took a deep breath. She didn’t wake up; she just shifted slightly, accepting the embrace even in her sleep.

There in the darkness, I realized something I didn’t like at all. It didn’t bother me that it was cheesy; what terrified me was what it meant that she was being that way with me, and that said a lot more about me than it did about her.

🔥💋🔥💋🔥💋🔥

I was lying on my back in bed with one leg hanging off the mattress and my phone resting on my chest, swiping my finger across the screen to check my schedule for the week, doing mental calculations that always seemed more complicated than they were: long shifts, split schedules, tips that went up and down depending on people’s moods and the day of the month.

If this month went well for me, if it really went well, maybe I could invite ____ to eat at that place I’d seen near the conservatory. It wasn’t anything extravagant, but it was definitely better than ordering takeout or ending up at the same old spot, or maybe buying her a little something, nothing flashy, something that could say “I was thinking of you” without making her feel uncomfortable.

Because ____ always said it wasn’t necessary, that I shouldn’t spend money, that just being together was enough, and I’d nod, but I’d still do the math, I still wanted to do it. The irony was that she had way more money than I did, “born with a golden spoon” as Rhea would say without a shred of guilt, and yet ____ never let it show, never brought it up, never offered to pay for anything expensive, and when she did, I’d refuse without a second thought. It was a silent war in which neither of us wanted to back down.

— This is a mess — ____ murmured from the floor

I looked up from my phone and saw her kneeling in front of my wide-open closet; most of my clothes were spread out around her, and she was folding, sorting, and frowning every time she found something that clearly didn’t belong in the same universe as the rest.

— My mess — I corrected. — You don’t have t_

— Shh — she interrupted me without looking at me — I’m on a mission

I smiled. She was wearing one of her loose, soft nightgowns that barely reached her knees when she moved, her hair tied back carelessly with a few loose strands falling down her neck. She looked way too comfortable in my space, as if she’d always belonged there.

— If I don’t survive — I added — Tell Rhea I won’t leave her my records

— Rhea already knows you’re a lost cause — she replied — I’m looking for Donatello’s costume… I swear it was here

From the other side of the apartment, Rhea was also searching her room, muttering something about turtles and laundry. I took advantage of the scene; it would be a waste not to.

— You know — I said casually — Looking like that should be illegal — ____ snorted without turning around

— Really?

— Really — I affirmed — Kneeling in my room, organizing my stuff... — I sat up a little — You’re teasing me, ____ — without warning, she grabbed a shirt and threw it right at my face

— Shut up — I laughed, brushing the fabric off my face

— Domestic violence — I muttered — And here I was trying to be romantic

When I looked at her again, she wasn’t standing in front of the closet anymore; she was on top of me. She had crept up silently and straddled my legs with a daring smile that took my breath away for a second. She rested her hands on each of my shoulders, leaning in just enough for me to feel her warmth.

— Did you say something? — she asked

The cell phone was left forgotten on the bed; my hands moved on their own, gripping her hips to confirm it wasn’t an illusion. ____ let out a low, satisfied laugh and began kissing my neck slowly and provocatively, as if she knew exactly what she was doing.

— You’re cruel — I murmured

— I learned from the best — she whispered against my skin

Her fingers reached the buttons of my shirt; she undid one, then another, each movement deliberately slow, as if she wanted to torture me. She lowered her lips a little further with each button, leaving me fully aware of every second, and stopped right in the middle.

— Do you want me to keep going? — she asked in that innocent voice that fooled no one

Heat coursed through my entire body; I nodded without thinking, biting my lip to keep from saying something even more desperate than what I was already thinking. She smiled with satisfaction and finished unbuttoning my shirt; her hands traced my chest, moving down my abdomen slowly and exploratively... and stopped right at the edge of my undershirt.

— ____ — I whispered, almost pleadingly.

— Yes?

— Please — I whispered again, and she flashed that smile... damn it.

She brought her hands to the hem of her nightgown and lifted it calmly, slipping it off as if there were no hurry at all. She stood there in her bra, looking me up and down, clearly enjoying my reaction.

I was already on the verge of losing all self-control when she started moving again, her hands sliding down, her intentions clear; my fingers clamped down on her hips, ready to switch roles, to take her as I always did...

— I found it! — Rhea shouted from across the room — The costume was in my drawer! Come help me put it on!

Reality hit me like a bucket of cold water. ____ stood still for a second, then began to laugh softly. She rose from my lap with cruel ease, picked up her nightgown, and put it back on as if nothing had happened.

— They're calling me — she murmured with a look full of malice — Don't move

— ____... — I managed to say

She leaned down, gave me a quick kiss on the lips, and left the room, leaving me alone with ragged breathing and a completely uncooperative body. I let myself fall back onto the pillows, running a hand over my frustrated face with a single clear image in my head: ____ on top of me, laughing and winning.

Minutes later, when I was still trying to gather my thoughts...and my breath, the bedroom door swung open again without warning. Rhea walked in carrying Donatello with absurd solemnity, as if she were introducing an important member of royalty. The turtle was wearing his famous formal suit, a sort of ridiculously tight-fitting mini-jacket for his size.

— Look at him — she announced proudly — Isn’t he perfect?

Behind her, ____ peeked in, leaning lightly against the doorframe with a smile that was anything but innocent. I could only think one thing: “If I throw Donatello out the window, how many years in prison would that be?”

— Felix — said Rhea, looking me up and down — Can you button up your shirt? We’re not at the beach.

I looked down; my shirt was still open with the buttons askew, as if I’d completely forgotten the outside world existed. I grumbled under my breath and began buttoning it up one by one while Rhea kept talking about fabrics, colors, and how “elegant” Donatello looked. ____ looked at me out of the corner of her eye, and then she winked at me. It was a quick gesture, almost imperceptible, but she accompanied it with a barely audible murmur

— Indecent

I had to bite the inside of my cheek to keep from smiling like an idiot, because I knew perfectly well that she was faking it, that this “good girl” act was just a performance, and I also knew that as soon as she was alone with me, I was going to make her pay for every second of that teasing. Oblivious to it all, Rhea lifted Donatello to bring him closer.

— I’m going to take some photos of him before he gets tired — she announced — Don’t move

— We never do — I replied; she shot me a withering look

— Especially you

She left the room with the turtle, talking to herself about angles and natural light; the silence she left behind was thick and heavy. ____ came back in completely and returned to her task as if nothing had happened; she knelt down again in front of the closet, folding T-shirts, sorting by color, completely focused… or so she pretended. I stood still for a few seconds, watching her.

There was something dangerously calm about the scene, in the way she moved, in how her hair fell down her back, in how she seemed to be ignoring me on purpose; it was a different kind of provocation, slower, more deliberate. I sat on the edge of the bed, resting my elbows on my knees without taking my eyes off her. “Predator,” I thought, and she undoubtedly knew it.

— You're making more of a mess than you're cleaning up — I finally said

— That's a lie — she replied without looking at me — Your closet is a crime against humanity

— You like my closet.

— No, I like you; it’s different. — That made me stand up. I took a couple of slow, deliberately loud steps. ____ tensed up slightly, just enough for me to notice, but she didn’t turn around. She kept folding clothes as if her life depended on it.

— You like to drive me crazy — I murmured.

— I don’t know what you’re talking about — she replied, focused on one of the T-shirts. I stopped right behind her, leaned in slightly, and rested a hand on the closet wall, trapping her without quite touching her

— Of course you know — I whispered close to her ear. ____ swallowed; I saw it in the subtle movement of her neck

— Rhea’s in the living room, she whispered

— And Donatello too, I added — We’re a very close-knit family — she let out a nervous laugh

— Felix...

— Yes?

— Don’t start something you can’t finish, I smiled

— That's never been a problem for me — she finally turned her face to look at me; her eyes shone with that dangerous mix of defiance and anticipation. She held my gaze without flinching, as if challenging me to cross an invisible line

— You're indecent — she repeated

— And you enjoy every second of it — I replied, and she didn't deny it

I leaned in a little closer, just enough for my shadow to cover her completely. I thought about how easy it would be to pull her against the bed, how quickly I could make her forget the world, the closet, the turtle in a suit. I thought about her hands clutching the sheets, her laughter fading into a sigh. “Make her bite the pillow,” I told myself, but I didn’t, not yet. I straightened up suddenly and took a step back. ____ frowned, confused.

— Was that it? — she asked.

— No — I replied. — That was a promise. — she looked at me silently for a few seconds, then shook her head, amused.

— Dummy

— Indecent — I retorted, and as she went back to tidying my closet as if nothing had happened, I knew one thing with absolute clarity: that later, when there were no witnesses, when the apartment was silent, ____ would pay for every wink, every smile, every tease, and she knew it from the way she smiled

That evening, Rhea announced she was going out to buy dinner with the nonchalance of someone who has no idea she’s about to leave an unsecured bomb inside the apartment.

— Are you coming, Felix? — she asked from the doorway, keys already in hand

I looked over her shoulder toward the hallway leading to my room; ____ was still in there, crouched in front of the closet, completely focused on a pile of clothes that, ironically, no longer belonged entirely to me since she’d decided to bring order to my life.

— No, I have to finish organizing the closet — I replied without thinking too much about it. Rhea watched me for a few seconds, clearly assessing the scene.

— You? — she raised an eyebrow.

— Me — I affirmed with a conviction bordering on the absurd. She just shrugged.

— I guess miracles like that don’t happen every day

And she left the apartment without noticing that ____ was the only one who had done absolutely all the work. The sound of the door closing was soft and definitive, leaving everything in silence, that kind of silence that isn’t empty, but heavy, as if the air itself knew something was about to happen. I stood still for a second, listening.

The apartment seemed to be holding its breath with me. Then I walked slowly toward my room. ____ was finishing folding the last T-shirt with a neatness that was almost offensive to someone like me; her hair fell forward, hiding part of her face. She was already wearing her pajamas, but there was something about the way she moved that made it impossible for me not to look at her. I leaned my shoulder against the doorframe.

— Rhea's already left — I said

— Aha, I heard her go — she replied without looking at me

— We have time — I added

That made her stop. ____ looked up slowly, as if she already knew exactly what I meant. Her eyes met mine, and there it was again, that spark—the one that had nothing to do with innocence.

— Time for what? — she asked, and that made me smile.

— To finish what you started — I replied. She snorted with amusement.

— Felix, I was just organizing your closet, and I’m already done.

— No — I corrected, taking a step forward. — You were teasing me.

— That’s a very creative… and mistaken interpretation.

— I’m creative when I want to be… like in bed, for example — ____ stood up, crossing her arms.

— Don’t start, Felix.

— Too late — I said, closing the door. ____ watched me do it and swallowed hard.

— Cheeky — she muttered, but her voice no longer had the same firmness.

— We already established that, but you also said I was indecent — I replied

— Because you are

— And I’ve never heard you complain

She didn’t answer; her eyes dropped for a second and then returned to me. I moved closer slowly without touching her yet; I liked to prolong that moment, to make her wait, to see how her body reacted before her words.

— Do you know what happens when you look at me like that? — I asked with a crooked smile

— No — she replied — What happens?

— I start to think that all of this... — I made a vague gesture around us — Is a really bad idea

— Then back off — she challenged, and I smiled even more

— You never said you didn’t like bad ideas

— Rhea could be back any minute — she whispered.

— I know.

— Then...

— Then let’s hurry up — this time she was the one who laughed, a low, nervous laugh that confirmed to me I was exactly where I wanted to be

— You’re unbearable — she repeated

— And you were organizing my closet as if it were yours — that threw her off a little; I saw it in her expression, in how her posture relaxed just a bit

— Someone has to do it; otherwise, you’d be living among wrinkled clothes — she said

— I could get used to it... — I replied — To other things, too

I raised a hand and finally touched her, barely brushing her wrist with two fingers, but it was enough to make her breathing quicken.

— Felix...

— Shh — I took another step; she took one back until she bumped gently against the bed. I didn’t push her; there was no need. She sat down automatically. — I told you you’d pay for this — I murmured.

— Pay for what?

— Every wink, every smile, every time you pretended you didn’t know what you were doing — her lips parted slightly, but she didn’t answer; I leaned a little closer to her, resting a hand on the mattress near her hip without touching her directly — Relax — I whispered — I’m not going to bite you.

— That doesn’t sound reassuring coming from you — she replied, and I smiled.

— Trust me, ____

She hesitated for a second, just one, then nodded, and in that small gesture I knew that my revenge had nothing to do with haste or force; it had to do with making her feel it, with reminding her that she belonged to me as much as I belonged to her, even in those moments when we pretended we were just organizing a closet; the rest... could wait, at least until Rhea came back with dinner.

I looked at her in silence for a few more seconds, savoring that moment when ____ was still pretending she didn’t know exactly what was happening. I raised my hand slowly and caressed her cheek with the back of my fingers, carefully, as if I might break her if I pressed too hard. her skin was warm, familiar, and mine; I slid my thumb to her lower lip and left it there, barely touching, marking the line between what I was thinking and what I wasn’t going to say out loud just yet.

— You’re dangerous when you do that — I murmured with a crooked smile — You tease and then play innocent

____swallowed, her eyelashes lowered slightly, as if suddenly the floor were much more interesting than looking me in the eyes. I tilted my head a little, leaning in just enough so my voice was meant only for her.

— So your punishment...— I left the sentence hanging, savoring how her breathing changed — Is to use that pretty mouth of yours for something useful

I didn’t need to explain it, not to her; she understood instantly. I saw it in the blush that rose to her cheeks, in how she looked away with a mix of embarrassment and something else that made me clench my jaw. She didn’t say a word, she never did when she was like that. I smiled with satisfaction, removing my finger from her lips just to rest my forehead against hers.

— Look at me — I whispered. ____ obeyed, still blushing, and in her eyes I saw exactly what I wanted to see: nerves, trust, and that dangerous spark that always made me forget everything else. And in that moment, I knew there was no sweeter revenge than that.

The world shrinks to breaths when ____ kneels before me. I shouldn’t look at her like this; I shouldn’t let her look at me like this, but she does, and I let it happen, because I’ve long understood that denying what arouses me only makes the desire wilder. There’s something in the way she tilts her head, in how her hands rest on my thighs with a mix of shyness and determination that pierces me like a slow electric shock.

— Look at me — I command her in a voice lower than I intended; she raises her clear, attentive, and enchanting eyes. ____ has always been like this, pretending to be docile, but deep down she is fire waiting for permission to burn, and I... I am the one who decides when

When her lips enveloped my member, there was no rush; it’s a caress that doesn’t seek to end anything, but to begin something far more dangerous. The sensation isn’t just physical; it’s a pressure in my chest, a wave that rises up my spine and forces me to close my eyes for a second. I clench my jaw and have no intention of losing control so quickly.

— Like that... — I murmur — Exactly like that

My fingers glide through her hair gently, too gently for the firmness with which I hold it afterwards, not to hurt her, never for that, but to set a rhythm and assert my presence, to remind her that I’m there, that I feel her, that I don’t intend to let her go.

____ responds with a low, almost imperceptible sound that turns me on more than any open moan; that little gesture of hers, that way of accepting without disappearing, is what makes me possessive. I don’t want anyone else to see this; I don’t want anyone else to look at her like that. “Mine”, the thought surges without permission, raw and honest.

— Good girl — I say with a crooked smile she can’t see, but senses in my tone — Don’t stop

Time feels strange; every second stretches and compresses. I feel my breathing change, how my body reacts before my mind does. It’s not just pleasure; it’s… vulnerability. It’s letting her get this close, letting her affect me this way, and that… that’s what scares me the most. That’s why I speak, to maintain control.

— Do you know what I like about you, ____? — I ask without expecting an answer as I continue to set the rhythm of her head — That you never do things halfway, that when you decide to stay... you stay completely

My fingers tug just enough on her hair to lift her face; her lips are parted, her breathing is uneven, and in her eyes there is something that isn’t submission, but contained defiance.

— Felix... — she whispers; that single sound is enough to break what remained of the distance between us

— Felix... — she whispers; that single sound is enough to break down what little distance remained between us

I take her by the arm and pull her up with a firm motion; she lets me guide her, but when our bodies are level, she doesn’t wait—her hands wrap around my neck and she kisses me as if to show me this isn’t a one-sided game, and there it is, the other side of ____.

The kiss is deep and slow at first, laden with everything we didn’t say while I looked down at her; her mouth doesn’t ask for permission now, it just takes and demands, and I let her do it for a couple of seconds… just a couple.

Then it’s me who gently pushes her back until the bed catches her; I lay her down without breaking the kiss, leaning over her, trapping her between my body and the sheets. My hands rest on either side of her head, and when I pull back just a little, my forehead rests against hers.

— See what you’re making me do? — I murmur with a half-laugh laced with tension — You’re making me selfish — she smiles, that small, dangerous smile

— I’m not forcing you to do anything — she replies, her voice still trembling, but firm

My lips trace her jawline, marking my territory without the need for words; when I look at her again, my eyes must say everything I have no intention of softening.

— No — I admit — But I don’t plan on sharing you either.

The kiss that follows isn’t tender; it’s intense, a clash of wills that recognize each other as equals. ____ returns the pressure, barely biting my lower lip near my piercing, and I smile against her mouth. I like it when she doesn’t pull back; I like it when she stands up to me even as she lets herself be guided.

My hands trace her arms, her waist, not with urgency, but with intention; I want her to feel every movement, to understand that this moment belongs only to us, that here and now, no one else exists.

— Stay with me — I say softly, not as a command, but as a truth

She doesn’t answer with words; she kisses me again, this time more slowly, and in that gesture I realize something that shakes me more than any physical sensation: I’m not the only one afraid of losing control, and yet neither of us stops.

The world shrinks to just her when she ends up on top of me again during one of my moments of carelessness. There is no noise, no time, no orderly thoughts, only ____, her weight on me, her breath mingling with mine, and that dangerous smile she gives me when she thinks... no, when she knows she’s in control. I growl involuntarily, a warning that scares no one, least of all her.

— Does this amuse you? — I murmur, my voice deeper than I expected.

____ tilts her head slightly as if considering the question; her hair falls in a soft curtain around her face, and for a second she looks innocent, then she smiles slowly and maliciously.

 — Very much — she whispers.

Damn it, my hands rise of their own accord to her hips in a firm, possessive grip, as if I need to remind her and myself that this is still a game for two, that even though she’s on top of me now, it doesn’t mean she’s won. Her muscles tense ever so slightly beneath my fingers, a minimal reaction, but I feel it—I always feel it. Our clothes scatter across the room without a care in the world

She leans in a little closer, just enough to invade my space, so her shadow covers my face. Her closeness is a silent provocation; she doesn’t need to say a word. ____ has always been like this; she doesn’t need words to challenge me.

— You’re cheating, — I say with a crooked smile that hides nothing

— No — she replies — I’m learning from you

That hits me harder than it should, because it’s true, because every gesture of hers is a reflection of mine, a refined, dangerous, and deliciously self-aware version of what provokes me. ____ doesn’t pretend to be dominant; ____ tells me she is, and that… that disarms me.

My thumbs move slowly, tracing barely perceptible circles on her skin; it’s not an attempt to stop her, it’s an invitation, a “I see you,” a “I know what you’re doing.” She understands, because she shivers, doesn’t pull away, and doesn’t back down.

— Felix... — she says my name as if it were a warning

— ____ — I respond in kind, returning the challenge

Our lips meet in a collision that’s anything but gentle. It’s hunger, it’s defiance, it’s the accumulation of everything we didn’t say before. She kisses me as if she wants to steal my breath, and I return the gesture as if I refuse to lose it. There’s no winner, only fire. I feel her smile against my mouth, and that makes me laugh in the middle of the kiss.

— You like to tease me — I say against her lips

— And you like it when I do — she replies without hesitation. I don’t deny it; I never would.

She moves barely, just enough to make my breathing less controlled. My hands grip her hips a little tighter—not to stop her, but to anchor myself, so I don’t lose myself entirely in that sensation coursing through my body like electricity. I watch her, really watch her.

The way she bites her lower lip when I enter her, the way her eyes sparkle with that mix of nervousness and boldness, the way her chest rises and falls a little faster than usual. ____ isn’t faking it; she never does with me, and that makes her infinitely more dangerous.

— Don't play with me if you're not willing to accept the consequences — I murmur; she leans in until her forehead touches mine

— And you? — she asks in a low voice — Are you willing to lose control?

For a second I don’t answer, because the truth is I’m already losing it; my hands trace her back, marking every inch as if I wanted to memorize her. There’s no rush; the moment stretches thick, heavy with unspoken promises. She closes her eyes when I pull her gently against me, and that gesture… that damn gesture pierces my chest.

— Don't get the wrong idea — I finally say with a crooked smile. — Just because I let you win a round doesn't mean I gave up. — ____ opens her eyes and smiles triumphantly.

— Then don't give up... prove it to me — she whispers

My response is to wrap myself completely around her, reversing the movement with such ease that she lets out a small, surprised laugh. Now I’m the one on top, holding her and looking down at her; her hands cling to my shoulders, not to push me away, but to stay there. Our roles shift, but the tension doesn’t go away, it just transforms.

— Cheeky — she murmurs without any real anger

— All yours — I correct without thinking

She stays still for a second, as if that phrase had taken her by surprise, then she nods and rests her head on the sheets. The moment I decide to take back control isn’t born of haste; it’s born of certainty, of that exact point where her breathing changes, where her body reacts before her mind does, ____ thinks she’s still in control, that she can keep teasing me with that dangerous smile and the slow sway of her body; she thinks she can torture me a little longer—poor delusion.

My hands grip her hips more firmly, not to stop her, but to mark my territory, so she can feel without words that I’ve already figured out the game... and that now it’s my turn. ____ lets out a sigh, not loud, not exaggerated, it’s that treacherous sigh that escapes her when something changes, when the air no longer reaches her the same way; I feel it more than I hear it, giving her away completely and making me smile.

— Ah... — I murmur, tilting my head — Was that a sigh, or are you already giving in?

She tries to hold my gaze, but she’s struggling; her eyelashes tremble slightly, her mouth parts slightly without her realizing it. She tries to pull herself together, tries to remain in control, but her body won’t cooperate... perfect.

I move with more intent, setting the rhythm with a confidence that needs no permission; it’s not rough, it’s firm, slow at first like a warning. ____ lets out another sigh, this time longer, and bites her lip as if that might help her hold back.

— Don't do that, — I say in a low voice, amused — Don't bite your lip... or I'm going to think you're doing it on purpose

Her hands cling to my shoulders, not to stop me... never for that; it's more like an anchor, as if she needs something to hold onto while her control begins to crack.

— Felix... — she says my name softly and restrainedly, as if it were a warning she doesn’t know how to finish

— Look at me — I order without raising my voice, ____ obeys, and there it is, that look that kills me every time, bright and full of that dangerous mix of desire and defiance; she’s even smiling now, even when she knows I’m gaining ground — You like it when I’m in charge — I say, moving close enough for her to feel me completely — But you love it when I shatter the illusion that you can escape

She swallows, I move a little faster, more confidently, and her attempt to stay quiet goes to hell; it’s not an exaggerated sound, but it’s real, torn from her without asking permission. ____ closes her eyes for a second, as if that could protect her from herself.

— No — I murmur close to her ear — No hiding

My hands guide her, forcing her to stay right there, present and aware of every second. ____ nods without realizing it; her smile reappears... but now there’s something else beneath it... surrender.

— You always do this — she whispers, taking a deep breath — You disarm me and then act like it’s not your fault.

— Because it isn’t — I reply, smiling — You started it.

I set the pace more clearly, leaving her no room to think too much; her breathing becomes irregular, her body responds before she does, and each of her reactions is a small victory I savor calmly.

— Come on, hold on a little longer, I know you can — she lets out a low, nervous, broken laugh.

— You’re… — she begins, but doesn’t finish the sentence.

— An Indecent? — I interrupt her — Yeah, we already know that.

I lean in just a little, just enough so she feels there’s no distance between us, no place to hide. ____ sighs again, deeper this time, and no longer tries to be quiet; she just smiles, resigned, accepting the game for what it is.

— Don't be so loud — I say teasingly in a low voice — Or do you want the whole building to hear you? — She shakes her head, but the smile doesn't leave her face

— You're cruel — she murmurs

— No — I correct her, keeping the rhythm precisely — I just know exactly what to do with you

And when ____ lets out another sigh, long, honest, and without trying to hide it, I know that control is no longer in question, not because I’m forcing her, but because deep down, she never wanted to take it away from me entirely.

____ tries to move again; I sense it before I see it, that slight shift in her body, that clear intention to regain ground, to turn the tables in her favor as she’s done before. It brings an immediate smile to my face—not today.

I take her decisively and turn her over in a firm, confident motion without losing the rhythm of my thrusts; I guide her against the pillows, and she understands instantly that I’m not going to give her an inch.

— No, not now — I clarify

____ lets out a muffled sound as her face sinks into the softness of the pillow; she tries to adjust herself and regain her composure, but I don’t slow down. On the contrary, I maintain the same steady, deliberate rhythm, as if to remind her exactly who is calling the shots every second.

I feel her tense up and smile, because ____ can feign surprise, she can play the offended party, but her body always betrays her first; her hands search for something to hold onto, her fingers cling to the sheets as if they were an anchor, and her breathing begins to give her away.

— Shh... — I whisper with gentle mockery — Weren’t you trying not to make a sound?

She shakes her head slightly as if to deny it, as if refusing to admit I’m right even now; the pillow muffles any sound trying to escape her, but not enough, I hear them anyway. I lean a little closer to her, leaving her no space, not letting her turn away again.

— How considerate — I add, amused — So polite... even when you’re struggling to breathe.

____ lets out a stifled laugh that mixes with an involuntary sigh; she tries to hold back, she really tries, and that’s what amuses me the most. Her shoulders rise and fall irregularly, and I can feel how hard she’s trying to maintain the control she no longer has.

— Felix... — she murmurs my name into the pillow in a muffled, vulnerable tone

— Yes, say it again, but this time without hiding

I don’t let up, I don’t change the rhythm, I don’t give her enough of a break to pull herself together. I know exactly how much she can take before losing her composure, and I stay right there, stretching out the moment. ____ tries to lift her head a little, but I guide it back toward the pillow firmly. I don’t need much force, just intention.

— Relax, no one’s listening… except me — that makes her sigh again, less controlled this time

— Liar — she replies with that smile I can hear even without seeing her

— Always — I admit — But it seems you like it when I do

I keep the rhythm steady as if time had shrunk down to just this moment. ____ gradually stops trying to be quiet, and by the time she realizes it, it’s already too late; her reactions are more honest, more open, and each one confirms that I was right not to give in.

— See? — I murmur — It wasn’t that easy to shut you up

She snorts in defeat and lets her forehead fall against the pillow, finally accepting that she won’t win this time; her fingers relax, her body stops fighting the inevitable, and that small gesture is worth more than any loud victory. I lean in to speak close to her ear

— When you want to try to be in charge — I whisper softly — Let me know beforehand — ____ smiles against the pillow, tired, yet still provocative

— Next time — she replies, and I smile, because we both know that even if she tries, she loves losing this way

For a second, I decide to slow down; I do it on purpose. I feel the immediate change in her, how her body reacts even before her mind processes it. ____ squirming restlessly and confused, as if she doesn’t know whether to thank me or scold me, and then I hear it.

— Felix... — my name comes out differently, softer, almost pleading — No... don’t stop — there it is, my smile forms on its own

— Oh, no? — I ask with feigned innocence — I thought you wanted some peace

She shakes her head against the pillow, clearly desperate now, her hands searching for the sheets as if they could convince me of something I’ve already decided to ignore.

— Please... — she adds, unaware of just how much she’s provoking me

I play with her for another second, keeping up that deceptive, slow, almost cruel rhythm. I can feel her skin prickle, how the anticipation makes her more sensitive, more vulnerable, and then I stop pretending. I suddenly pick up the pace without warning, without giving her time to prepare, and ____ reacts with a sound that was definitely louder and more honest than she’d planned.

— ____...you said you were going to try not to be loud — I tease, amused

She tries to cover her mouth with one hand, but it’s useless; she lost that battle a long time ago. Her attempts to control herself only give her away more, and that does nothing but push me to keep going.

— Felix... — she protests between a moan and a sigh — I-it’s not fair

— I never said it was — I reply calmly — And lower your voice... or the neighbors are going to get the wrong idea — that only makes her react even worse

— You’re indecent — she says, but her voice betrays her

— Look at yourself… and tell me which one of us is the indecent one now

I place a hand on her head and guide her back toward the pillows, firmly, with that confidence that makes it clear to her I’m still in charge. I press her down enough to muffle the sounds, though we both know it won’t work entirely.

— This is better — I murmur — Be a good girl, ____... at least try

For a moment, while I maintain control, a doubt crosses my mind: “Am I going too far?” I know her; I know where it comes from; I know how fragile she can be at times, but then I feel her smile again, not a tense smile, not a forced one.

A wide, brazen smile, enjoying every second of the game she herself agreed to from the start. Her body doesn’t pull away, doesn’t close up; on the contrary, it responds, follows me, even teases me now, and that dispels any doubt.

— Look at you — I say, chuckling softly. — You love playing the part of the one who complains.

She turns her head just enough to glance at me out of the corner of her eye with that mischievous expression that always disarms me.

— Shut up — she replies. — And keep going... — The laughter escapes me before I can stop it.

— When you beg like that, you’re not helping your cause much — I say as I lean over her again, maintaining that rhythm that already has her on the edge, knowing exactly how much more she can take before losing all pretense of discretion — Seriously, the neighbors are going to think I’m a problem

____ She lets out a sound that’s meant to be a complaint, but it falls short; she doesn’t even bother to hide it anymore.

— It's your fault — she says without conviction

— It always is — I reply — But now you're part of the problem — my hand on her head relaxes a little, just enough so she can breathe better, so she doesn't feel trapped, but supported; control isn't the same as harm, and ____ knows it — Relax — I whisper — No one is judging you

She nods, defeated, and stops fighting the noise, the moment, me—and feeling that, I can’t help but laugh with satisfaction again, because it’s not about winning; it’s about her trusting me enough to lose with me.

She says nothing, and that, curiously, is what disarms me the most. ____ no longer tries to answer me, or protest, or pretend she’s in control of anything; her words have surrendered completely, replaced by sounds she didn’t plan to make and by that huge, open, almost cheeky smile that appears every time she thinks I’m not looking at her.

But I’m watching her the whole time; there’s something hypnotic about seeing her like this, so different from the ____ who argues, who negotiates, who measures every step as if the world were a chessboard. Here she doesn’t calculate; here she feels, and it shows in every gesture, in every ragged breath, in the way her body responds even before I do anything new.

— Look at yourself... — I murmur, more to myself than to her

Her smile widens even more, as if she knows exactly what I’m thinking, as if she enjoys knowing it; that triggers a dangerous, hot surge of pride that pushes me not to let up, but rather to ramp it up—not out of necessity, but because I can, because she lets me, because she trusts me.

My movements become more confident, more decisive, and the reaction is immediate; ____ arches her back almost without realizing it, as if her body were asking for more before her mind could even formulate the thought. The sound she lets out isn’t restrained or elegant; it’s honest, and I love that.

— Shh... — I say with a crooked smile — You were going to behave yourself, remember?

She shakes her head, still smiling, as if the idea of “behaving” had ceased to exist long ago; she no longer tries to silence herself, no longer tries to feign composure, she’s just there, present, alive, and enjoying herself without guilt, and I… I enjoy watching her like this.

There’s something deeply intoxicating about knowing that I’m the one who provokes that reaction, that I’m the one who brings her to that point where words are unnecessary, where she doesn’t need to ask or explain anything, because her body does it for her.

— That’s how I like you — I admit in a low voice — When you don’t overthink things so much

I run a hand down her back, not to hold her back, but to feel her, to remind myself that this isn’t a fantasy, that it’s real, that it’s ____ with her easy laugh and her intelligent gaze, giving herself to the moment without reservation.

Her eyes sparkle when she manages to look at me, and in that gaze there is no fear or doubt, only complicity, only desire, and only that silent trust that carries more weight than any words.

I let myself fall beside her when everything finally quiets down; there’s no rush, no need to say anything right away. The world seems to shrink to that tiny space between us, to the way ____ still breathes, her breath ragged, to how her legs tremble slightly before seeking me out almost by reflex.

She settles onto my chest with a long, weary sigh, as if she can finally release the breath she’s been holding for a while; her forehead rests just below my chin and her cheek against my skin. I can feel her breathing gradually finding its rhythm, her body relaxing inch by inch.

I slowly and carefully raise my hand and take hers; it’s warm and still a little shaky, but I kiss it anyway, first once, then again and again, not in a hurry, not with hunger, but with something that feels more like gratitude than desire.

My fingers slide toward her hair, gently tangling themselves among the strands, caressing her scalp in that way I know calms her. ____ responds almost immediately, settling herself more comfortably against me, as if that gesture were a sign that everything is okay.

— Hey... — she murmurs, her low voice still heavy with exhaustion — I think you broke me — she jokes; I can’t help but chuckle softly so as not to pull her out of the moment

— You’re in one piece — I reply — Dramatic, but in one piece

She smiles against my chest; I know because I can feel it, because her breathing barely changes, because her body shakes with a silent laugh.

— Liar, I can’t feel my legs

— That’ll pass — I reply, kissing her knuckles again — I promise they’ll be back in five minutes

— Five? — she lifts her head slightly to look at me — What if they don’t?

— Then I’ll carry you, — I reply without thinking — It wouldn’t be the first time

____ watches me for a few seconds in silence; her eyes are bright, soft, and completely different from that provocative look from a moment ago. This is the calm ____, the one who lets her guard down, the one who doesn’t need to prove anything. She sighs against my chest again, creating a comfortable silence between us.

— I like it when you’re like this — she admits — when you don’t talk so much.

— Hey — I protest, though half-heartedly — That hurts my feelings.

— Liar — she replies immediately — You don’t have that many.

— I have enough for you — ____ laughs softly again and presses her hand against mine; her fingers intertwine with mine, as if she’s already regained her strength.

— Thank you — she says suddenly, almost in a whisper

— Why? — I ask, and she pauses to think for a few seconds

— For taking care of me afterward — she replies — I’ve been told not everyone does — the words hit me harder than I expected; I don’t say anything right away, I just bring my lips to her hand again, leaving them there a little longer

— Always — I finally reply. — I wouldn’t know how to do it any other way. — ____ lifts her head just enough to look at me; her eyes meet mine, serious but calm.

— Promise?

— Promise — I say without hesitation. She nods contentedly and settles back against me, wrapping an arm around my torso; her thumb traces slow, lazy circles on my skin.

— Felix...

— Mm?

— Next time — she says with a smile I can’t see but can feel — ...Don’t play the bad guy...you look like a mobster — that made me snort with amusement, and I stroked her hair once more

— I’m not promising anything

— I knew it...you’re indecent — she murmurs

— I know — I reply, kissing the top of her head; she says nothing more

She just lies there breathing with me, as if the world could wait a little longer. I feel invincible, and that’s no exaggeration. Being there with that absurd sense of absolute triumph, as if I’d just won a war that exists only in my head. The world is calm, the door is locked, the messy bed is proof enough that everything went exactly as I wanted, and ____... ____ is practically dead.

She’s lying on her back with one arm hanging off the bed and the other on her stomach; her eyes are closed and she’s breathing slowly, as if she’d decided to shut down without warning. Her hair is a lovely mess, and her expression is so peaceful that for a second I wonder if she’s actually fallen asleep.

— Hey — I murmur, still with a stupid smile — Don’t fall asleep — no response — ____...— nothing. I frown and move a little closer, resting a hand near her shoulder — Ho_... — I stop mid-word and clear my throat — ____ — she makes a low sound, something between a groan and an incomprehensible murmur, barely turning her head toward the pillow

— Five minutes... just... five — she murmurs, and that’s when panic hits me, because right at that moment I hear the apartment’s front door, the unmistakable sound of someone coming in... Rhea

— Shit — I whisper, bringing a hand to my face. My brain makes an immediate, traumatic, and very clear connection: “Rhea + us caught off guard = cold water.” I’ll never get over that — ____ — I say, now faster, lowering my voice — We have to get dressed — she doesn’t move — ____, please

— I’m tired — she replies, her eyes still closed — Really tired

— Rhea’s back — I add, leaning toward her — And if she finds us like this, I swear she’ll spray us again — That gets through to her; ____ furrows her brow slightly, as if the information is taking a moment to process

— She’s not going to do it again... — she says, half-asleep

— Yes, she is — I reply without hesitation — She hates me and enjoys spraying me like I’m a dog

— You’re exaggerating...

— No, I’m not exaggerating — I say, already nervous, glancing at the door — She has a spray bottle ready, I’m sure of it — ____ opens one eye just a crack and looks at me slowly, heavily, and exhausted

— Felix... I can’t move

— Yes, you can

— I don’t want to

— Please — she sighs deeply, defeated, and closes her eyes again

— Then you dress me — she says, making a gesture with her hand

— What? — I blink, confused

— You did this — she speaks with the calmest tone imaginable — Now fix it — I stare at her in disbelief for two seconds, until I hear Rhea’s voice from the living room

— Felix, ____! Are you in your room?

— Yes! — I answer too quickly — We’re still tidying up! — great. . . very believable — Five minutes — I mutter to ____ — Just five

She doesn’t answer; she’s literally already half asleep. I huff in resignation and start with myself. I pull on my pants as best I can, almost getting tangled up in the process. I find a clean T-shirt and put it on backwards without realizing it. It doesn’t matter if we have to survive; then I go back to bed.

— This isn’t fair — I murmur as I take one of her arms to help her sit up

— Don’t be dramatic — she replies softly — I just want to rest

— Rest later, and preferably with clothes on — I help her sit up; ____ rests her forehead on my shoulder, completely exhausted

— You’re so loud — she complains

— Excuse me?

— You talk a lot — she adds, yawning.

— And you don’t move at all — I defend myself, feeling around for her clothes, trying not to make a sound, and I start helping her get dressed while she cooperates minimally, lifting one arm when I ask her to, then the other, and as soon as she can, she leans against me again.

— Felix...

— What?

— This counts as full service; you should be proud — she says very seriously; I can’t help but chuckle softly

— I am, very much so — I reply, and just as I finish helping her get settled, she sits back down on the bed; we hear footsteps approaching down the hall

— I’m coming in! — Rhea calls from outside

— NO! — I blurt out without thinking — I mean... wait — everything goes silent; ____ opens her eyes and looks at me with a small, tired smile

— Don’t worry, we’re already dressed — she whispers

— Yeah... that was close — I reply. Rhea knocks on the door once and then opens it just a crack

— Is everything okay? — she asks, looking at us suspiciously

— Perfect — I reply, standing in front of her like a human shield. She watches us for another second, frowns... and leaves. When the door closes, I let out the breath I didn’t realize I’d been holding — Never again... — I murmur — Never again under my roof — ____ slumps back, settling onto her side

— Stop it, you survived — she says softly. I lean in and gently smooth her hair

— Sleep, I’ll keep watch — I say. She smiles with her eyes already closed and brings a hand to her forehead.

— Oh, my traumatized hero — she jokes.

And against all odds, I smile like an idiot again. I settle in without asking permission and rest my head on her abdomen. ____ makes a soft, tired sound, but she doesn’t complain. Her legs are warm beneath my hands, and I begin to stroke them gently, moving my hands up and down slowly, enjoying how relaxed she is.

— Look at you — I murmur with a smile that slips out on its own — I left you exhausted — ____ doesn’t even open her eyes; she just raises a hand and gives me a gentle tap on the head, more of a lazy warning than a complaint

— Felix... — she whispers in a voice thick with sleep — Quiet, please

— Hey, don’t hit me — I chuckle — It’s just a technical comment, an objective observation — she shifts her legs slightly, trying to get more comfortable, and I take the opportunity to give her a playful squeeze on the hips — Confirmed — I add — Totally exhausted

— I want to sleep — she replies, a little more firmly this time, though she still sounds sweet — Really

— Five minutes — I say, though we both know it’s a lie — Let me enjoy my masterpiece — this time the tap on the head is a little more forceful

— You’re such a chatterbox... and you’re heavy

— That hurts, my ego just took a hit — I complain, feigning drama

Even so, I don’t move; I stay there listening to her slow breathing and feeling her body relax more and more. I like seeing her so calm, so secure… mine. I’m about to close my eyes too when the door bursts open.

— Come on down for dinner! — Rhea calls from the doorway in that tone of hers that brooks no argument. I react as if I’ve been electrocuted, pulling away from ____ immediately and falling to the floor.

— Shit! — I blurt out without thinking as I get up. ____ barely moves; she just frowns a little and rolls onto her side, hugging the pillow.

— A little longer? — she asks, half-asleep. Rhea crosses her arms and looks at us with a “Don’t lie to me” expression.

— Not even five minutes; lunch is already served — she replies

— We’re coming — I say quickly, trying to sound normal. Rhea watches us for another second, as if assessing the scene, then shakes her head

— Seriously, you two… — she mutters before leaving. The door closes, and I exhale, running a hand over my face

— I almost died — I say under my breath. ____ lets out a small, tired laugh and smiles slightly before trying to go back to sleep, and yeah... I definitely wore her out.

-----------------------

Heyyy, another long chapter full of hormonal stuff, this is the last time I’m writing something like this [On top of that, I got a little poetic in the GOGOGO HAHAHA].

Fact: This chapter has over 10,000 words, and yeah, most of it was pure hot stuff [I woke up crazy]

Anyway, I hope you liked it. Don’t forget to give it a heart, comment, and follow me for more updates. Thank you so much for reading. See you on Sunday (❁‘◡’❁)

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[autorapan]

𝐀 𝐁𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭 - 𝟕.𝟑.- 𝐌𝐢𝐬𝐬 ____ (part 7.3/?)

𝐋𝐢𝐨𝐫𝐚

I always believed that elegance was something you were born with, not something you had to learn. I grew up watching women who never doubted their appearance, who walked with confidence because wealth had taught them that everything belonged to them, but my mother taught me to see life differently... sometimes I forget what her voice sounded like back then...

It takes me ten minutes to decide between two pairs of earrings, pearls or diamonds, and another five wondering if the blue dress is too formal or too much of a “I want to impress you, Dad.” I don’t want to seem desperate for approval… but I know that deep down, I am.

— Just breathe, ____ — I murmur to myself as I smooth out the form-fitting skirt; my laptop vibrates at that moment, I turn and notice the Skype notification.

— Are you getting ready already? — I hear Felix’s voice as I answer

I never get used to the contrast between him and my world: Felix in his old T-shirt lying on his bed, and me surrounded by designer handbags, expensive perfumes, and a dress that’s worth more than his entire wardrobe combined.

— Yeah, almost — I reply, sitting down in the chair in front of my vanity as I put on a necklace. I wish he were here telling me I look good, that I don’t look like a little girl playing at being an adult, but he’s in his room, probably with Rhea screaming about something in the background. — Last chance — I tell him. — Are you sure you don’t want to come with me? — You could meet my dad. It’s… the right thing to do. You know, we’re boyfriend and girlfriend. — There’s a silence for about three seconds, and to me, those seconds feel like minutes.

— ____ — he replies with that awkward laugh. — That stuff is boring…

I stop in front of the mirror; I look flawless. The dress hugs my figure with the precision of someone who learned to read fabrics and cuts from a young age… maybe Felix will never understand that.

— It's not boring… most of the time — I correct him gently. — It's connections; it's part of my life.

— I know — he replies. — But it's not my thing.

I bite my lip; it shouldn’t hurt, but it does. I go back to the closet, put on my heels, and touch up my perfume as I walk over to the laptop. I turn on my camera; Felix already has his on, and as soon as I appear, his smile changes. His eyes scan my dress, not with my father’s technical gaze, but with desire and sincere surprise.

— Wow — he says — You look... damn, ____ — I laugh nervously; his reaction calms me more than all the mirrors in the apartment

— Thanks — I whisper. I want to ask him again, I want to beg him: “Come on, walk with me, make an effort.” But I remember how I sometimes push him too hard, how his eyes tense up when I talk to him about my family. — Look at me, okay? — I ask him. — And tell me I look good.

— You look perfect — he replies without hesitation — And... yeah, you’re way out of my league

— Dummy — I smile, though something inside me shrinks — You should come over so you can show me off

— Another time — he replies, but I know there won’t be another time, not like this, but I don’t say it. I look at his screen, his tousled hair, his simple room; the mess behind him is a world apart from mine, and yet… I keep choosing him

— The taxi must be arriving soon — I say, glancing at my watch. — I’ll call you when I get back, okay?

— Sure, have fun — I blow him a kiss and he catches it, pretending to tuck it into his pocket; it almost makes me forget the twinge in my chest

— I’ll text you once I get there — I tell him so he won’t worry later

— I’ll be waiting

I close the laptop and the silence of the apartment greets me; no one wishes me luck in person, no one takes my arm to walk me out. It’s absurd that I miss the company of someone who refuses to enter this world with me. I walk down the building’s hallway with my heels echoing; the doorman opens the door for me with a “Miss ____, as always, a pleasure to see you.” I smile because that’s what I’ve learned to do.

The night air greets me with a gentle chill. The taxi is there; the driver opens the door for me, another automatic gesture of courtesy, another reminder that I belong to a world where I’m expected to be treated as something valuable, yet I’ve never felt so alone in one.

During the ride, I watch lights flash by in the window; a message from my father arrives shortly after: “Don’t be late, Mr. Marlow is there.” Always punctual… always proper, but I’m not cold like he wants me to be. I’m just someone who told a boy on a motorcycle, “I love you”… and didn’t get a reply.

I clench my jaw; I won’t cry over that, not today. The taxi stops in front of the gallery; through the windows I see photographers, guests in designer suits, glasses of white wine on trays. I take a deep breath as I step out of the taxi. this is my world, though sometimes I wish Felix would want to see it with me. The taxi drives away while I take another deep breath and adjust my dress; as I cross the illuminated entrance, a host smiles at me.

— Welcome, Miss ____ — I nod politely, though inside a little voice keeps repeating, “I wish he were here.”

The murmur of the room is soft but constant, like a polite swarm of bees moving among glasses and polished marble. I walk along the edge of the paintings without really looking at them; most are disconcerting abstractions or cold landscapes. I’m more focused on finding my father’s tall figure than on the brushstrokes suspended before me.

A married couple stops him and chats with him, so I wait at a distance, smiling and nodding when someone greets me. It’s always the same comments: “Miss ____,” “You’ve grown so much,” “Your father must be proud of your future.”

My response is always the same: a subtle, discreet smile and a polite thank you. The formalities are exhausting. I try to grab a bite from the tray, a mini vol-au-vent with caviar, because my stomach has been in knots since I got out of the taxi, but just as I’m about to take it, a hand snatches it away.

— Not so fast, “Miss ____” — I stop and blink, turning my head as I recognize him immediately

— Adam? — I ask in surprise. He gives a thumbs-up while bringing the vol-au-vent to his mouth with his other hand

— I thought you’d already forgotten me — he says dramatically

— Of course not — I reply, smiling with genuine relief — I helped you convince Chloe to go out with you, remember? You owe me eternal gratitude — I remark; he laughs with an exaggerated bow

— I’m still with her, by the way — he confesses, making me smile at the memory

— I’m glad — I say sincerely as I take another bite without him snatching it away this time — You two make a good couple

We start wandering aimlessly through the gallery; people stare at us, some curious to see the daughter of a powerful man accompanied by someone who seems more rebellious than aristocratic. Adam stops to look at a painting where a black line cuts across a white canvas.

— I bet ten dollars the artist painted this five minutes before the opening — he whispers

— I'd say someone tripped over the brush — I add, and we both stifle a laugh

It’s ridiculous that a simple sarcastic comment makes me feel so… carefree. Here, I always have to be impeccable, but with Adam, I can allow myself to be a less scripted version of myself… one I only let Rhea and Felix see

— I never saw you dating anyone in school — he says suddenly, looking at another piece that looks like a broken plate glued to the canvas — You were the model student everyone admired but no one dared to ask out — I keep my gaze on the painting, remembering that time; the only thing that mattered to me was that my father would speak to me again, but I decided to joke

— Maybe I had secret admirers — I reply, shrugging

— If you did, they went unnoticed — he laughs — So tell me... Do you have a boyfriend?

My smile softens involuntarily; I think of Felix with his fingers on the handlebars of his beloved motorcycle and the way he looked at my dress through the camera as if it were a miracle.

— Yeah, I have a boyfriend — I reply, still smiling; Adam nods as if he’s put a missing piece into place

— Good, it’s about time, “Miss ____”

— Thanks for your approval; I really appreciate your social blessing — I say with that elegance they taught me

— You’re welcome; it’s a public service — he replies with feigned seriousness. We pass in front of a metal sculpture that looks like a deformed bird — This clearly symbolizes the despair of an existentialist penguin trapped in an office — he comments humorously; Adam snaps his fingers

— That’s exactly what I thought — we both laugh again

I’m surprised at how easy it is; I don’t have to pretend to be the perfect daughter, or worry about my father’s business partners’ opinions, just walk, chat about silly things, and feel… young.

We keep walking through the room while he tells me about his last semester, internships, colleges, family pressure—we’re not as different as we thought.

— Where’s your dad? — he asks, tilting his head slightly to hear me better

— In the VIP area, talking to Mr. Marlow. They sent me here to “observe” and look available to say hello

— That sounds awful — he mumbles, grimacing.

— It is — I reply with a small, resigned laugh. Adam looks around.

— Well, at least you’re not alone — he comments, and he’s right; for the first time since I walked in, I don’t feel like I’m carrying the full weight of the family name.

— Thanks — I say, almost in a soft whisper. He looks at me, surprised, perhaps expecting sarcasm, but there isn’t any.

— You’re welcome… by the way, Chloe’s coming later — he says, gesturing with his hands. — We can make an awkward trio of former classmates.

— Perfect — I reply. — That way, no one forces me to talk to tax experts.

Adam laughs out loud, drawing stares from some adults who disapprove of the youthful noise. I laugh too, and that sparks another wave of stares. I don’t care at all; I feel… human.

As we look at another piece consisting of a red rectangle on a blue background, Adam looks at me again as if he wants to read my mind completely.

— Didn't your boyfriend want to come? — he asked. I didn't look him in the eye as I cleared my throat softly.

— It's not his kind of scene, he likes. . . other things

— What kind of things? — he asks, and I pause to think of what to say. The only thing on my mind is “Motorcycles, trouble, kisses that leave marks… me speaking to him in German while we have sex even though he doesn’t understand a word,” but I respond diplomatically.

— Simplicity — Adam nods.

— Then I hope he appreciates you. Sometimes you don’t know what you’ve got until you see it surrounded by sharks.

I don’t know if he’s speaking from experience or intuition, but his words cut deeper than I care to admit.

— He does — I reply like a mantra

We walk a little longer; he makes more jokes about “art a two-year-old could make,” I counter by inventing deep meanings, he laughs just like I do, and I think something absurd but comforting.

At least I have someone to laugh with without having to measure every gesture at this kind of event.

A short while later, Chloe appears, radiant in a dress that screams, “I’m confident in myself, and Adam still can’t get over how beautiful I am,” and I can assure you he wasn’t denying it, so now I’m sandwiched between the two of them, turning this elegant art exhibition into a fun outing.

Adam walks ahead of us with his hands in his pockets, pretending to be an art critic as he grimaces in front of an abstract painting, red lines, black smudges, and a peeling blue circle.

— This is clearly... — he whispers dramatically — Someone who spilled wine and said, “Oops, it’s art.”

I almost spit out my glass of water; Chloe and I look at each other before bursting into laughter.

— Please — I murmur — Don't insult the artist's emotional tragedy; that blue represents the loneliness of the human soul, and that circle... is probably the rupture of a lost identity.

Chloe lowers her head, giggling softly, while Adam watches me, feigning deep admiration.

— Wow — he says — And I thought it was just a creative hangover. You're brilliant, ____

— I was born for this — I reply with feigned solemnity before turning toward another painting. The truth is, I have no idea about abstract art, but pretending I do is way too much fun.

We make our way through sculptures and paintings, mixing serious comments with nonsense. I’m surprised by how much I appreciate having them here, even though I didn’t even invite them. I just happened to find them at the right moment.

Because let’s be honest, events like this aren’t really a place for young people; they’re for adults with healthy bank accounts, prominent last names, and conversations steeped in formality. I can play that game… but it’s much more exhausting when you’re alone.

In the distance, I spot my father talking to two business partners I know by name but never by face. My instinct is to watch him with the same mix of affection, pride… and a little silent resentment.

— Wow, look at that. My dear father never misses a friend’s exhibition, but when I have events, he magically has meetings he can’t cancel — I comment in a low voice, with a light tone but a hidden edge. Adam chokes on his drink.

— ____! — he whispers, gently slapping my arm — Do you want me to leave you the companies, or disinherit you right here and now?

Chloe turns around as if my father had heard, only to start laughing.

— Well — she adds — honesty is emotional catharsis.

— It’s not catharsis if it gets me in trouble — Adam mutters. I just smile and shrug.

— Relax, he’s too busy talking about percentages and mergers to hear me.

But of course... life has a very cruel sense of timing. Five minutes later, I see my father approaching. I straighten my posture instinctively, as if I were born to be pretty decoration at business events.

— ____ — he says with feigned paternal surprise — I didn’t know you’d already arrived.

“Liar,” I think. I sent him a message half an hour ago.

— Of course, Dad — I reply with a flawless smile — I saw you were busy; I didn’t want to interrupt

— You can always come over, sweetheart — he says, though his gaze drifts toward the colleagues waiting for him — But I’ll free you up for a second; I wanted to say hello first.

His hand rests on mine for just a moment, a beautiful, fleeting gesture. Behind him, I see Adam and Chloe making ridiculous faces, trying not to laugh, as if they’re mocking the formal tone I’m supposed to use when speaking to my own father, and I try not to laugh.

— I’m fine — I say. — Having a really great time, actually

My father looks at me for another second, sizing me up, taking in my dress, my hairstyle, my posture, and nods with satisfaction.

 — Keep enjoying yourself; I want to introduce you to someone later — after saying that, he returns to his social circle, and I… breathe a sigh of relief. Adam quickly comes over

— You survived. I thought they’d arrest you for defaming your father — he says dramatically

— It wasn’t that bad — I clarify, giving him a friendly nudge

— No, but you were “this” close — Chloe says, holding up two fingers almost touching; I shake my head, keeping my smile

We keep walking, laughing, critiquing paintings that are probably worth more than my entire apartment, but it doesn’t matter, because with them I don’t have to put on a show; I can be sarcastic, creative, impulsive.

I can forget that Felix didn’t want to come, that my father only sees me when it fits his schedule, that in this environment I’m always “the daughter of.” The impromptu group we’ve formed feels strange but comfortable, like a temporary social refuge, and honestly… I’m having a good time.

As we make our way to one of the side rooms where there are sculptures illuminated by dramatic lighting, I realize I’m not checking my watch or waiting for a message from Felix, nor am I counting down the minutes until I can leave.

I’m laughing with two people who remembered who I was in the very place where I was supposed to be invisible; maybe the night isn’t so bad after all. And as I watch the flashes of light on the carved marble with Chloe, trying to figure out if the human figure is actually human or a depressed fish, I smile. This wasn’t what I expected; it’s better, and I’m letting myself enjoy it for now.

The lighthearted fun with Adam and Chloe ended abruptly when I saw my father coming toward me accompanied by an older man and a boy my age, both impeccably dressed and radiating European elegance; my social radar went off instantly like an alarm set too early.

— ____ — my father says in that corporate tone he uses even with me — I’d like to introduce you to Étienne Durand, the exhibition’s host — the man smiles at me politely

— C’est un plaisir de enfin vous rencontrer, mademoiselle ___ (It’s a pleasure to finally meet you, Miss ____) — his French accent is too soft for my taste

I nod, returning the greeting with automatic elegance, then the son steps forward; he has light eyes, the perfect suit, and that confidence only those raised with privilege develop. He takes my hand without asking and kisses my knuckles.

— Enchanté, mademoiselle (Pleased to meet you, Miss)

An uncomfortable shiver runs down my spine. I don’t hate formalities, but that gesture makes me feel like an object on display. Still, I smile out of courtesy... the worst part is that I know exactly where this is going.

My father, the business partner, both of them watching, assessing compatibility, calculating alliances. I know my father would be capable of selling my hand to whomever he wants, and I think of Felix.

Of his mischievous smile, his motorcycle, how he refused to come because “it looks boring,” and here I am, holding the hand of a Frenchman with 18th-century manners.

We step a few paces away to “talk better,” because clearly our parents want us to talk. The boy, Lucien, as his father introduced him, lets out a sigh as soon as we’re out of earshot.

— Je peux pas rester ici (I can’t stay here)— he says, hiding his desperation. I chuckle under my breath.

— Believe me, I understand

— Can you do me a favor? — he asks, leaning slightly toward me and exaggerating his American accent — Could you ruin my suit? Spill wine on me, so I can make a run for it — he suggests. I blink, confused. Did this guy just ask me to commit social vandalism?

— If I stain you, my father will find out — I reply — And he’ll judge me until the day of my funeral — Lucien raises an eyebrow

— But if you spill on me, I can run away

— If I spill on you — I reply — You could spill on me to even things out, so we both leave — I explain. Lucien looks at me as if I’d just revolutionized all of France

— Brilliant — he whispers, a smile forming on his lips

We move further away among the columns, pretending to look at sculptures. A couple of clumsy gestures and the all-too-“accidental” movement of our glasses, and there we go: wine on my skirt, a dramatic drop on his jacket.

We both let out stifled laughter. When we reappear in front of the adults, Mr. Étienne puts on a face of exaggerated pity.

— Oh la la, what a disaster — Lucien sighs theatrically, and so do I; my father nods resignedly but doesn’t stop me

— Go change — he orders — We’ll see later — “I don’t think so,” I think

— Sure — I reply with a polite smile.

I raise my hand to wave from afar at Adam and Chloe; they look confused but blow me ridiculous kisses, which makes me smile as I walk toward the exit.

Outside, the air is cold, the noise muffled; cars pass by like shadows with lights. I breathe a sigh of relief, but then I hear an engine braking hard.

I turn around and almost forget how to breathe. Felix gets off his motorcycle, his body tense, his helmet still on, and his chest heaving as if he’d just run across the city.

— Felix, what are you doing here? — I ask, genuinely surprised. He takes a step forward, but before he can answer, I hear a voice behind me

— ____, you forgot your bag — says Lucien, holding it up as if it were a diplomatic gift — Merci encore (Thanks again) , for helping me escape — I thank him, nodding somewhat sheepishly; he takes my hand again and, of course, kisses my knuckles once more

I feel my stomach churn; I pull my hand away immediately, but it’s too late. Felix is here in two strides, his helmet off now, revealing his dark eyes.

— What the hell do you think you’re doing? — he growls, shoving Lucien hard; the Frenchman staggers, taken aback

— Felix — I grab his arm — No! — I exclaim. Lucien raises his hands.

— Je ne savais pas qu’elle avait un boyfriend (I didn’t know she had a boyfriend). — Felix neither hears nor understands him; his face is set to strike.

My heart races. This, here, right before the event, with my father, the French partner, and maybe the press.

— Felix! — I order firmly — You’re not going to do that.

He stands motionless, muscles tense. After a few seconds, he lowers his fist, but the murderous glare remains. I turn toward Lucien and bow my head slightly in embarrassment.

— I’m sorry, young Lucien, it was… a bad moment. Good evening.

I grab Felix by the arm, more to stop him from striking again than out of affection, and drag him toward the motorcycle. He climbs on immediately, as if expecting me to follow him and as if this were his territory by right. He makes a sharp gesture, slapping the back seat with his hand. “Get on.” I frown, turning away and turning my back on him.

— You're not going to order me around — I say, and his hand closes firmly and frustratedly around my wrist.

— ____, get on.

And before I can answer, he pulls me lightly but decisively toward him. I lose my balance and end up sitting there, clinging to him by reflex just as the motorcycle starts up.

The wind cuts through the silence; my fingers grip his jacket; my words get caught between anger, adrenaline... and all the unspoken questions.

Why did he come? Why now? Why did he care so much? But the engine roars and the city turns into blurry lights, and all I can do is hold on.

I don’t remember the ride; seriously, I don’t know when we went from the museum entrance, to the roar of the motorcycle, to the cold wind burning my legs, to this… to his apartment.

The soft sound of the door closing behind us was a belated jolt of reality, and now I’m sitting here on the couch, the very couch that’s off-limits, with Rhea sleeping in her room while Felix stands in front of me, leaning down slightly, calling my name.

— ____, ____, look at me — I blink, my mind snapping back as if I’d been traveling to another dimension

— What...? — I murmur, frowning — How...? — Felix makes a face that’s somewhere between amused and nervous

— Don’t look at me like that — he says in a low voice; that expression of his, mixing arrogance with guilt, irritates me and softens my heart at the same time, which is unfair

— Why did you go? — I finally ask. He straightens up, resting his hands on his knees.

— Why did that idiot approach you? — he asks without blinking.

His logic leaves me breathless. Is he seriously turning my question into an accusation against someone else? I look at him in disbelief.

— Because he’s the son of one of my father’s business partners  — I reply with forced patience. — We were talking. It’s a formal event, Felix. That’s what people do — he opens his mouth, ready to retort, but I raise my hand to cut him off. — You shoved Lucien — I scold him. — You could have gotten me into a scandal. Do you have any idea what that would have meant with my father there? — Felix tenses, his eyes narrowing

— Are you ashamed of me? — I freeze. Seriously? My frown deepens

— I invited you — I reply slowly, letting each word fall like a stone — Several times, actually. I asked if you wanted to come with me. If I were ashamed of you, do you think I would have asked you to come with me in the first place? You’re the one who refused to go

His lips tighten, the room falls silent. He takes a deep breath, moving closer, taking my hands with that dominant yet almost clumsy gesture of his when it comes to admitting something. It disarms me more than it should.

He doesn’t say “I’m sorry”, Felix never says “I’m sorry”, but he squeezes my hands, lowers his head for a second, and then kisses them, one by one, slowly.

— I screwed up — he finally murmurs, his eyes looking up as my heartbeat goes haywire — I just... — his voice drops, turning rough — It’s just that I like you a lot.

“I like you,” not “I love you,” but coming from him, that’s huge; it’s his way of opening up, of letting me in, even just a little.

My chest settles, my hands slide up to his face, caressing his cheek and the bridge of his nose.

— Don't do that again, please — I ask him slowly — I don't want things to end badly over something like this

He nods, doesn't say a word, just tilts his head in agreement, and stands up, coming closer, his shadow falling over me.

— Come here — he whispers before leaning in

His lips meet mine with a tenderness that’s a far cry from twenty minutes ago, when he nearly hit someone. This is the Felix that only I see, the one who doesn’t know how to apologize but makes up for it with gestures, with silence, with kisses.

My hands move up to his neck in response, and for a moment the world shrinks to this: his mouth against mine, his breath mingling with mine, the echo of his words still burning in my chest.

I want you.

I don’t know how long the kiss lasted; it could have been a second or an eternity. When he pulls away, his hands still hold my cheeks, his forehead resting against mine.

— Don't make me act civilized when I see you with someone else — he murmurs in a hoarse voice — I'm not cut out to be the trusting boyfriend of other men — I smile faintly

— Then learn — he lets out a short, frustrated laugh, but follows it with another fleeting kiss; my fingers grip his jacket

— Felix...

— I know — he interrupts me — I won’t do it again

And for the first time tonight, I believe him, because he’s Felix. Maybe he’s not a prince or a gentleman; he’s just someone who bites his tongue trying to be better for me without knowing how to say it, and that’s enough for me for now...

-------------------------------------------

... :) ...

Fact: Yes, Jax saw a photo, and that’s why he went looking for Liora...

Anyway, I hope you liked it. Don’t forget to hit the heart, comment on what you thought, and follow me for more updates. Remember that this fanfic has an official playlist [Here]. See you on Wednesday (:

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[autorapan]

𝐀 𝐁𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭 - 𝟕.𝟐.- 𝐋𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐮𝐚𝐠𝐞𝐬 𝐈 𝐝𝐢𝐝𝐧'𝐭 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰 (part 7.2/?)

𝐉𝐚𝐱

Saturdays in the apartment always had a special feel to them; they smelled of relaxation, of loose clothes, of Rhea yelling at us to wash the dishes... and of ____ sitting on the floor with her legs crossed as if she were the most innocent girl in the universe... until we started playing Monopoly, at which point she turned into a shark.

— Felix, you owe rent — she said in her sweet little voice, holding out her hand without mercy

— How much? — I asked, already fearing the worst. ____ checked her cards with a little smile that didn’t bode well

— Six hundred — she replied

— SIX HUNDRED?! When did you buy ALL THIS?!

— When you weren’t paying attention — she replied very calmly. Rhea burst out laughing, leaning back.

— It’s your fault, Felix. She’s studying business administration; she knows all the tricks of capitalism.

— I... — I looked at my meager, pitiful stack of counterfeit bills — I just wanted to have some fun. — ____ smiled, leaned in, and gave me a little peck on the cheek.

— I’m enjoying it.

— Oh, sure, while you’re ruining me.

She stuck her tongue out at me and started negotiating with Rhea for another property as if she owned them all, and well... technically, someday she would be; her father owned companies I couldn’t even pronounce. Sometimes I forgot that, sometimes it intimidated me, but she was still sitting there on my rug with her student-like dark circles and her duck-print socks, as if her elegant world had never existed...

I lost... of course I lost. Rhea went bankrupt after me, and ____ ended up with all the cards as if she were the final boss of a video game.

— Well — Rhea said resignedly, getting up from the floor — Dinner time. Who’s cooking? — Both ____ and I looked at her. — What? No! I cooked yesterday — she complained. ____ raised a hand like a shy student.

— I... can help — she offered. Rhea stared at her as if she were looking at a bomb with a lit fuse.

— ____, honey... every time you “help” we lose a pan.

— That’s not true — she grumbled.

— Last time you burned water — I chimed in, ____ elbowed me in the ribs

— That was just once, and I was distracted — she excused herself

— How do you get distracted while boiling water? — Rhea asked, genuinely confused

— Thinking... — she replied halfway, then fell silent

— About what? — I asked, amused. ____ shrugged.

— My accounting test — she replied, lowering her voice. Rhea sighed like a tired grandmother.

— ____... How did you survive before you met us?

— I’d order food or eat instant soup — she replied, clasping her hands as if it were totally normal. I laughed.

— The real university student diet — I joked. Rhea put a hand to her forehead.

— And your family never taught you how to cook? — she asked. ____ lowered her gaze in a barely perceptible movement.

— No... — she murmured. — There was always someone who did it, or we’d eat at a restaurant.

That’s when it hit me how little I knew about her life before she had her own department, about how she really grew up, about what her days were like, her home, her meals, her people... and I also thought about her issue with food, about those days when I saw her eat so little, about those silences. I didn’t say anything; I just stood up and walked toward the kitchen.

— Well — I called out to both of them — I’m cooking today, spaghetti, okay? — ____ smiled instantly

— You always cook spaghetti — she murmured, starting to sort the counterfeit bills

— I know — I replied, shrugging — If Rhea made it, it’d be ruined; if you made it… we’d die, — I joked. Rhea patted ____ on the shoulder.

— The feeling’s mutual, ____

While the water boiled and I chopped onions, ____ decided to climb onto the countertop while watching me intently with those bright eyes. She sat there dangling her feet in the air, and I remembered what had happened there last week, how she’d clung to my shoulders, how we’d almost knocked over the dish rack. I gave her a crooked smile that she recognized immediately.

— Felix... — she murmured warningly, blushing

— Comfy up there? — I asked, winking at her

— Very comfy — she replied without taking her eyes off me

— Interesting, — I raised an eyebrow. ____, amused, brought her hand to her lips and blew me a kiss; my stomach did a silly little flip.

— I’m back, — Rhea fell silent as she entered the kitchen. — Why are you two flirting on the counter?

— Because we can — I replied

— Because it’s cute — ____ replied at the same time; Rhea sighed

— I’m going to find Donatello, and if I catch you two acting like you’re in one of those romantic comedies again, I swear I’m sleeping at my mom’s house.

____ climbed down from the counter to follow her, leaving me alone in the kitchen, and as I kept cooking, listening to them talk in the living room, I felt something strange for a second, peace, the good kind, the kind that makes you think that despite everything being broken, some things are still worth it.

A few minutes later, I served the spaghetti onto three plates, and the aroma filled the apartment as if it were a real home. I don’t know why, but when ____ eats my food, I always feel like I’m doing something right, even if it’s just a silly little thing. We sat down at the small dining table, with Rhea across from me and ____ to my right, always there as if that had been her spot ever since I’ve known her.

— It's really good — said ____ between bites, as if the dish were a divine revelation. Rhea raised her fork toward me solemnly

— Felix, you’re officially the only functional adult in this kitchen

— Thanks — I replied, puffing myself up — I try

— Not really — ____ muttered, giving me a gentle nudge with her shoulder. I shot her a look, feigning indignation

— Hey, you burned water — I reminded her. She rolled her eyes and made a face

— It was just once, get over it — she snorted. Rhea nodded exaggeratedly.

— Says the person who’s doomed to boil water for the rest of her life — she remarked. ____ stuck her tongue out at her like a little girl.

I just smiled; it was one of those moments I wanted to tuck away in a drawer forever. We finished dinner, but we stayed there leaning on the table, not wanting to move, the kind of comfortable silence that only happens when you know someone very well. Rhea took a sip of her soda before speaking

— Well, what should we do next week? You know, besides working, studying, and surviving — she asked, ____ tucked her hair behind her ear

— Maybe we could go to the park on Saturday — she suggested with a smile — It’s been a while since the three of us went out

— To do what? — I asked

— Go for a walk — she replied, shrugging as if it were obvious — Or get ice cream, or watch dogs… I like dogs

— You like all animals, don’t you? — Rhea chimed in with a crooked smile — If you see a stray cat, you want to adopt it

— It’s just that they’re cute — she replied, looking away; I leaned back in my chair

— We can go — I agreed — My shift is at night, so I’m free all day

____ smiled immediately, that kind of little smile… as if my presence really mattered, as if she’d been waiting for that “Yes.” It made me feel… vulnerable. Rhea slapped the table, bringing me back to reality.

— Perfect, so Saturday means the park, ice cream, and dogs

— Yes — ____ nodded excitedly — We can take pictures together

— No weird selfies — Rhea added, pointing her fork at me — Felix, you always look like you want to fight the camera

— That’s my normal face — I replied

— Well, change your face — she ordered casually. ____ laughed and rested her head on my shoulder. I tried not to look affected, but I failed miserably.

— And Sunday? — she asked me alone. — We could do something just the two of us, too.

— I don’t have a shift on Sunday — I replied, thinking it over — We could… I don’t know, watch a movie here? — I suggested. Rhea raised her eyebrows

— Here? In the apartment? Just the two of us? On the sofa? — she asked with an accusing look. ____ stepped back, narrowing her eyes and looking at me suspiciously. I smiled with deliberate innocence.

— Yes, Rhea, here, on the sofa — I replied calmly. Rhea narrowed her eyes.

— Felix... I trusted ____, but knowing you.... I swear by the moon that I’m going to record you two snoring and upload it to the internet to ruin your lives

— You’re exaggerating — I commented. ____ brought a hand to her face, trying to hide her smile

— We won’t do anything — she promised — We’ll just watch a quiet movie… okay? You can join us if you want — she invited, playing with her fork

— Yeah, just like before, dates with Rhea as the third wheel — I replied sarcastically; Rhea sighed like an exhausted mother

— Well, then, a movie on Sunday, but each of us on OUR own side of the sofa

— We'll see — I muttered. Rhea clicked her tongue at me, and ____ looked at me suspiciously because of what I said.

After clearing the table, the three of us stood in the kitchen. ____ ran her fingers along the rim of her glass, staring into space, perhaps lost in some pleasant thought.

— It'll be a good weekend — she said suddenly, as if trying to convince herself

— It will be — I replied without thinking

— We'll make it that way — Rhea added — Simple plans, nothing involving chaos, or fire, or any shenanigans on my beloved sofa — ____ let out a little “Rhea!” in offense

— I'm not promising anything — I said, throwing up my hands. Rhea tossed a napkin at me, and ____ grabbed my shirt, pulling gently as if she were a gangster

And for a second, just one, I thought that… this must be what home felt like, with the two of them, with spaghetti, with laughter, with little things that don’t hurt, with plans I really wanted to follow through on. Rhea said goodbye with a tired grunt before locking herself in her room; we heard her slam the door shut with that final thud she always makes when she’s had enough of the night.

— I think she’s angry — said ____ in a low voice, though with a guilty smile

— I think she was born angry — I replied

She let out a soft giggle, the kind I loved so much, that laugh that made me feel like the world was okay for a little while. We went into my room; it was small, messy, and totally unromantic, but ____ was already used to it. She had her own space in the closet, a drawer full of her things, and a blanket that only she used because I always slept hot.

I closed the door behind us. ____ stretched and yawned, then simply started taking off her clothes without a shred of embarrassment. After almost a year together, it still seemed unfair to me, even criminal.

— Don't just stand there staring — she said without looking at me, distracted as she slipped off her blouse with the grace of a ballerina and the clumsiness of someone falling asleep.

— How am I supposed NOT to look? — I replied, leaving my shirt on a chair — It’s scientifically impossible — she frowned amusedly and tossed the blouse she’d just taken off at me, and it landed right in my face — Hey — I complained, brushing it off — If you’re going to throw something at me, make it a bra, like in the movies; that makes more sense — ____ let out an indignant snort

— Silly… — she said, because, of course, “Miss Decent” hated saying bad words

— What? I’m cooperating. You told me not to look; I’m trying to survive this — I excused myself. She stuck her tongue out at me before unbuttoning her skirt. I froze for a second. It’s not that I hadn’t seen her naked hundreds of times, but whenever it happens, my brain decides to shut down for a moment

— Felix — she called me calmly without looking at me — Stop standing there, get changed already

— Yeah, yeah... — I mumbled, slipping one foot into my pajama pants and almost falling over because I was staring at her too much; she laughed softly

— You’re a mess

— But a sexy mess — I replied

— Sure, if you say so — she shrugged

When we were finally both in our pajamas, she in her shorts and a tank top and me in my old band T-shirt, we turned off the light and got into bed. ____ immediately settled down next to me, rolling toward me until her head was resting on my shoulder.

Her arm wrapped around my torso, her leg tangled with mine without thinking, as if by instinct. I slipped an arm under her, pulling her closer. The silence was soft and warm; ____’s heartbeat synced with mine as if we’d rehearsed it.

— Good night — she whispered, her nose barely brushing my collarbone

I looked down at her, though I couldn’t see her in the darkness. I could feel her calm, confident breathing. I loved her so much it hurt, but I didn’t say anything. I could never bring myself to say it; the words got stuck in my throat. So I did what I could: I gave her a soft kiss on the forehead, because if I kissed her on the lips... I wouldn’t be able to stop, I knew it, she knew it too, and Rhea would kick us out of the apartment for the noise.

Honestly, just in time, ____ murmured something that sounded like a happy “Mmh” she snuggled closer to me, I closed my eyes, took a deep breath, and let the day end there with her on my chest, because ____ was my home, my balance. ...and because it was “Her” the night remained peaceful, and as I drifted off to sleep, I thought of something I didn’t say out loud: that I want more nights like this, I want her to stay.

📞➿📞➿📞➿📞

Coming back with Rhea carrying the dinner bags was always a bit of organized chaos; she’d be talking about whatever, a class, an unbearable teacher, a meme she’d seen, while I tried not to forget that I was also carrying the drinks and couldn’t crush the bread. When we pushed the apartment door open with our shoulders, I realized that ____ wasn’t in the living room.

— She told me she’d set the table — Rhea said, as if reading my mind

I nodded and closed the door, leaving the key in the lock. That’s when I heard her. At first I didn’t understand a word. It wasn’t English… and it definitely wasn’t the broken Spanish I knew from old songs. It was a language that sounded firm and soft at the same time, with long words, rounded vowels, and a strange cadence that gave me goosebumps.

I stood still in the kitchen doorway. ____ had her back to me, arranging the cutlery with one hand and holding the phone with the other. Her voice was lower than usual and intimate, as if she didn’t want anyone else to hear her.

— Ja, Oma, ich esse genug.... wirklich (Yes, Grandma, I’m eating enough... really) — she said, and something in my chest ignited without my permission; I didn’t know why, I just felt heat, a strange heat concentrated in my stomach rising slowly up my chest. I leaned against the doorframe without making a sound, listening to her like an idiot while Rhea spoke to Donatello in her high-pitched voice — Nein, er ist in Kalifornien, ich bin immer noch in New York (No, he’s in California, I’m still in New York) — she continued. I just stood there quietly, watching her every gesture. ____ laughed softly, a laugh she almost never let out when there were other people around — Ich vermisse dich auch (I miss you too)

Something inside me tightened, not out of jealousy, but rather... a feeling of seeing a part of her life I had no access to, a closed room, a language I didn't know. When she hung up, she set her phone on the table and finished arranging the forks, and then I moved without thinking.

— Who were you talking to? — I asked, trying to make my voice sound normal. ____ gave a little jump and turned around in surprise, but immediately smiled.

— My grandmother — she replied calmly.

— Your grandmother? — I repeated stupidly as I set the dinner bag on the counter

— Yes, the one in Germany — she said it as if it were obvious, as if I already knew that. I scratched the back of my neck, searching for something else to say

— I didn’t know that... — I made a vague gesture with my hand — That you spoke in.

— German? — she asked, tilting her head. I nodded. — My mother’s family is German, Felix. I’ve told you that before — she said with a confused smile. I looked at her, trying to rewind my memory. Nothing. Just an uncomfortable void.

— I don’t remember — I admitted. Rhea walked into the kitchen with a huff.

— Of course not — she whispered as she took out the food boxes — You only hear half of what ____ says; the other half you fill in with nonsense

— Thanks — I muttered, annoyed. ____ shook her head, amused, and took the glasses to set them on the table. I followed her, still with that strange feeling in my chest — You never told me you knew German — I insisted, pouring water

— I did — she replied without looking at me — But it doesn’t matter anymore

— It does matter — I retorted, not knowing why it mattered so much to me — It’s… weird

— Weird? — she asked, raising an eyebrow

— Hearing you speak another language — I shrugged — I dunno, I didn’t know you sounded like that

— Dummkopf — she blurted out without warning, looking me straight in the eyes

— What did you say? — I asked, completely blank

— Nothing important — she replied with a smile that clearly said the opposite

— No, no, tell me — I insisted — What was that?

— Why? — she asked, crossing her arms — You don’t understand German

— That’s exactly why — Rhea slammed a plate down on the table

— I’m sure she called you an idiot — she said with a silly smile

— Hey! — I protested. ____ laughed, shaking her head

— You’re kind of close

— So it was something bad after all — I said, pointing at her

— Maybe — she replied, shrugging

— Do you only know German? — I asked in a low voice, leaning in slightly toward her

— No — she shook her head — I also know French; I think I told you that too...

— French? No — I shook my head, blinking in confusion, and Rhea shot me a dirty look from behind ____

— Yes, Felix

— Since when have you known more than one language?

— Since I was a kid — she replied as if she were talking about the weather — I learned it for business and stuff — that made me stop

— Business?

— My dad has a lot of European partners — she explained — Learning languages was...useful

“Useful”, that word hit me like an uncomfortable reminder. Sometimes I forgot where ____ came from, not because she rubbed it in my face, but because it didn’t fit the image I had of “rich people.” She didn’t talk about luxuries, she didn’t brag about anything, but suddenly there she was, talking to me about European business partners, a German grandmother, languages I didn’t understand. I sat there suddenly aware of my own life, my simple clothes, my mediocre jobs.

— I guess that makes you… more interesting — I said, trying to sound lighthearted. ____ looked at me intently, as if searching for something in my expression.

— It doesn’t make me anything, Felix — she replied, pursing her lips and making a gesture with her hand. — It’s just part of me, nothing more.

I nodded, but something in my chest still felt tight; it wasn’t anger, it wasn’t outright jealousy, it was that annoying feeling of not knowing her completely, of there always being layers that eluded me. Rhea finished serving the food, breaking the moment.

— Eat before it gets cold — she ordered. I picked up my cutlery, but before I started eating, I looked at ____ again.

— Next time — I began — teach me.

— To speak German? — she asked, surprised.

— To understand yo, — I replied. She held my gaze for a few seconds and then smiled.

— Maybe — she nodded, starting to eat

I didn’t know why, but that “Maybe” left me wanting more. Once we finished eating, I got up to wash the dishes. The sound of the water against the plates was constant, almost hypnotic. I rolled up my sleeves a little further and kept scrubbing, even though there hadn’t been anything really dirty left for a few seconds. It was more of an excuse, it always was. I liked having something to do with my hands when my head started filling up with strange thoughts. Laughter drifted in from the living room.

— ____, look at this! — Rhea exclaimed with almost childlike enthusiasm.

— No, no, that’s way too big — ____ replied, stifling a laugh — It fits him like a dress.

I turned just enough to see the scene reflected in the oven door. Donatello was lying completely still on the coffee table, covered by a tiny piece of fabric that I couldn’t quite make it out to be a shirt, a costume, or a crime against his dignity as a turtle. Rhea held her phone up, snapping photos nonstop, while ____ watched with a tenderness that made my chest tighten.

— Look at his little face — she whispered, leaning in a bit — He’s not even complaining

— Because he knows he’s a star — Rhea replied — Donatello, look at the camera

The turtle didn’t look at the camera; he didn’t look anywhere, but even so, Rhea squealed as if she’d just captured the photo of the year. I turned off the faucet and left the last dish in the drainer, dried my hands with the dishcloth, and sighed. It was late; tomorrow we all had things to do, though Rhea didn’t seem to care when she went into “Proud Turtle Mom” mode.

— Hey — I called out, leaning against the kitchen counter — It’s time for sleep — Rhea looked at me over her phone, offended

— These are the best photos I’ve taken of him in weeks

— You said that last time — I replied. ____ looked up at me and smiled as if asking for a little more time, but finally sighed, turning his gaze back to Rhea

— Maybe that’s enough for today — she said softly — Donatello must be tired

— Traitor — Rhea muttered, but she still put down her phone, picked up the turtle carefully as if it were made of glass, and held it to her chest — Good night, kids — she said dramatically — Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do

— That's not comforting — I replied. Rhea stuck her tongue out at me and walked toward her room; before closing the door, she turned around one last time

— Good night, ____

— Good night — she replied, waving her hand

The click of the door closing left the apartment in a different kind of silence, more intimate... more ours. ____ began gathering up the tiny clothes they’d worn with Donatello, folding them carefully before placing them on the table. I watched her for a few seconds without saying anything until she noticed.

— What? — she asked

— Nothing — I lied — Let’s go

We entered my room almost at the same time; ____ went straight to her side of the closet to get her pajamas, I did the same, though I took my time as if something inside me wanted to stretch out that moment. We changed without ceremony, she with her back to me and me sitting on the bed unbuttoning my pants. When I looked up, ____ was already wearing her long-sleeved shirt and fixing her hair.

— Hey — I said, leaning back on the bed — Say something else in German

— No — she replied immediately — That’s enough for today

— Come on, just one word — I insisted. She came closer to the bed and looked down at me, crossing her arms

— You’re so insistent — she gestured with both hands

— Curious — I corrected her. ____ shook her head and slipped under the sheets, turning her back to me.

— Good night, Felix — I smiled, turned toward her, and leaned in, wrapping my arm around her waist.

— Don’t be like that — I murmured close to her ear — I like how it sounds when you talk like that.

— But you don’t understand a thing — she replied

— That’s what makes it better — I assured her; she turned her face, planting a kiss on my forearm as a distraction, and I took the opportunity to move closer, brushing her cheek with my lips — Say anything — I whispered — I promise not to ask for a translation — I lied; ____ sighed as if she were struggling with herself

— Ich liebe dich sehr — she said softly, her eyes shining; the sound coursed through my whole body. I didn’t understand the words, but I felt the weight of them, the way she said it, the tenderness

— What does it mean? — I asked in a low voice. She turned just enough to look at me over her shoulder with a smile, but there was something else in her eyes, something I couldn’t quite put my finger on

— Go to sleep — she replied, amused

— ____...

— Felix... — she mimicked my tone, turning completely to face me. She kissed the tip of my chin and settled more comfortably under the sheets. — Good night.

I wanted to press her, I really did, but something in my chest told me not to, that there were things that couldn’t be forced, so I held her tighter, resting my forehead against her neck and breathing in her scent.

— Good night — I repeated, as sleep began to overtake us. I thought about that language I didn’t understand, about that part of her I still didn’t fully know, and yet I held on a little tighter, as if that were enough.

🏍️🩰🏍️🩰🏍️🩰🏍️

Morning found me in a good mood, probably too much so—the kind of good mood that shows on your face and gives you away without you saying a single word. I was in the kitchen, leaning against the counter with a silly smile as I poured coffee into my mug, which matched Rhea’s.

____ was sitting in a chair at the table, holding the hot cup between both hands. Her hair was a complete mess, as if she’d given up on combing it. The neckline of her nightgown rose high enough to hide almost everything… almost. There were barely visible, concealed marks, but I knew exactly where they were and how they’d gotten there, and I smiled even more.

— It looks good on you — I said, nodding toward the sweatshirt, ____ didn’t look up from her coffee

— It’s comfortable — she replied calmly, swinging her feet. I approached the table and rested my hands on the back of her chair, leaning slightly toward her

— German in the wee hours suits you too, — I added in a low voice. She tensed, lifted her cup, took a long sip, and shot me a quick, withering glance, her cheeks flushed red.

— Felix...

— What? — I shrugged. — I’m just saying.

— I'm going to ignore you for now — she muttered, refocusing on her coffee

I chuckled to myself; I loved it when she played the offended one, when she pretended I didn't exist while clearly watching my every move. I moved around the kitchen humming something nonsensical and making more coffee; the door to Rhea's room opened with a soft creak.

— Good morning... — she greeted, dragging out her words as she stepped out with tousled hair and half-closed eyes. ____ was the first to react; she set her cup on the table and stood up

— Good morning — she replied casually — Coffee? — she asked. Rhea nodded and slumped into the chair across from ____, resting her head on the table

— Please... — ____ moved calmly through the kitchen, as if she’d always lived there. She poured a cup of coffee for Rhea and then placed two pancakes on her plate, arranging them carefully

— Thank you, you’re a sweetheart — Rhea murmured, blinking as she looked up. — You look… awake. — ____ stood still for a second; I had to bite my lip to keep from laughing.

— I slept well — she said after clearing her throat.

— That's good, — Rhea replied, unsuspecting, and began to eat. I leaned against the counter, crossing my arms and watching the scene; it was... peaceful. I liked it more than I was willing to admit. — Hey, ____ — Rhea looked up — Are you staying over tonight too?

— No — she replied, shaking her head. — I have rehearsal at the conservatory in a little while, and then I’m going to college. — Rhea pouted visibly.

— You always leave during the week.

— You know I can only stay on the weekends — ____ replied softly.

— I know, I know — Rhea sighed. — But still…

I looked at her leaning against the table with that invisible backpack she always carried, thinking about how little time she had left, how quickly she had to leave, how the apartment felt different when she wasn’t there.

— I can give you a ride — I said before thinking it through, ____ looked up at me

— Really?

— Yeah — I replied — if you want. — She hesitated for just a second and then nodded.

— Okay — she finished her coffee, set the cup in the sink, and headed to my room to change. I watched her until she disappeared behind the door. Rhea watched me closely, too closely, actually.

— You're acting weird — she whispered

— Weird how? — I asked, playing dumb

— Smiling — she replied — Smiling too much for this early in the morning

— I slept well — I said, shrugging

— Uh-huh — she repeated, mimicking the tone I’d used earlier — What did you do to ____?

— Nothing she didn’t like — I replied without thinking; Rhea raised an eyebrow

— Felix...

— What? — I looked away toward Donatello, who was already wandering around the house

— Behave yourself; I don’t want to have to spray you like a dog — she said, though there was a small smile on her lips

____ came out of the room a few minutes later, already dressed for the day with her hair done and a much more composed expression. She glanced at me out of the corner of her eye as she walked past me, and I returned her gaze brazenly.

— Ready? — I asked.

— Ready — she replied. I grabbed the keys and the motorcycle helmets. Before we left, ____ said goodbye to Rhea with a quick hug.

— See you later — said Rhea. — Take care.

— You too. I’ll text you later — she replied.

We took the elevator down and left the building. The morning air was cool. ____ put on her helmet and climbed onto the bike, wrapping her arms around my waist. I felt her weight, her closeness, and for a moment, everything seemed to be exactly where it should be. I started the bike with a smile that wouldn’t leave my face.

My bike roared beneath us, that deep, familiar sound that had always given me a strange sense of control, of freedom. It was my pride and joy, my beloved bike. ____ was behind me, clinging carefully to my waist, resting her forehead against my back when the wind picked up. I could feel her hands even through my jacket.

Driving with her was different; it always had been. It wasn’t just about giving someone a ride; it was about giving “____” a ride. I adjusted my speed without thinking, took the curves more gently, and avoided any sudden maneuvers, not because she asked me to, but because the thought of something happening to her made my chest tighten in a way I couldn’t explain.

The ride to the conservatory felt short, as if the journey had compressed itself just to drop me off sooner than I wanted at that exact spot where I always left her, in front of the large, old building with tall doors and students coming and going with backpacks, rehearsal clothes, instrument cases, and water bottles.

I stopped the motorcycle and turned off the engine; the silence that followed was abrupt. ____ got off first, carefully removing her helmet; her hair fell over her shoulders, and she adjusted the strap of her bag. I took off mine, then rested it on the seat and looked at her—I always looked at her; I couldn’t help it.

— Thanks for bringing me — she said with a soft smile.

— You're welcome — I replied, playing with her fingers.

We stood there face to face for a second too long; the noise from the conservatory still surrounded us, but I barely registered it. ____ took a step toward me, and I did the same; it was automatic and natural. It was a short, not desperate, not intense kiss like the ones from the night before. It was... warm and intimate, the kind that seeks nothing more than to linger for a moment. When we pulled apart, she didn’t step back immediately; her cheeks were slightly flushed, her eyes shining. She swallowed as if gathering her courage.

— I love you, Felix... — she confessed

The world stopped. It wasn’t dramatic; there was no music or a sudden rush of sound in my head. It was worse; it was an absolute void, as if someone had suddenly turned everything inside me off. I looked at her, saw her lips still parted, the way she was breathing, the way she was watching me, waiting for something, waiting for my answer, maybe.

I wanted to say it, I swear, I wanted to say, “I love you too.” I wanted to return those words she’d just given me without reservation, but they didn’t come out; they got stuck somewhere between my chest and my throat, heavy and impossible. I felt heat, an uncomfortable, almost unbearable heat rising up my neck. I looked away without realizing it, as if that could hide my inability. ____ noticed it immediately; she always did.

— Was it... too soon? — she asked carefully. I didn’t look her in the eyes; I just nodded once, a minimal, cowardly gesture. — Sorry — she said quickly. — I didn’t mean to… I… I shouldn’t have said it like that — I shook my head, but I wasn’t able to correct her, I wasn’t able to say “That’s not it.” Because it was and it wasn’t; it was all of that together. She took a deep breath and forced a small, fragile smile. — Hey — she added, trying to change the subject — Can we go out one of these days? Even if just for a little while.

That question caught me still lost in thought, my mind elsewhere, repeating those two words over and over, “I love you.” As if they were too big for me.

— I don’t think so — I replied — I have to clean the apartment with Rhea — the lie came easily, too easily, ____ nodded without arguing

— Okay — she agreed — It’s fine, maybe another time, see you later

— Yeah — I replied

I watched her walk away toward the conservatory entrance, blend in with the crowd, and gradually disappear from my field of vision. She didn’t turn around, she didn’t hesitate, she just kept walking. I put my helmet back on and started the motorcycle; the engine roared, but it didn’t sound the same anymore. I rode off without looking back, and as I made my way down the street, a single thought hammered in my head: “I wanted to say it.” But I didn’t know how.

-------------------------------

Heyyy, and here, with just a single three-word sentence, is when the first crack opens up. We start off nice and then dive right in without warning :)

Fun fact: Felix/Jax is the best cook out of the three + Felix and Rhea’s matching mugs are from Breaking Bad [Rhea loves mugs with ridiculous messages]

Anyway, I hope you liked it. Don’t forget to hit the heart, comment on what you thought, and follow me for more updates. Remember that the playlist for this fanfic is on my profile. See you on Sunday (❁‘◡’❁.).

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[autorapan]

𝐀 𝐁𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭 - 𝟕.𝟏.- 𝐈𝐭’𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐨𝐟𝐚’𝐬 𝐟𝐚𝐮𝐥𝐭 (part 7.1/?)

⚠️CW: Explicit content [NSFW] 18+, viewer discretion advised. Enjoy 😏✨⚠️

𝐉𝐚𝐱

The sofa was nothing special, it was old, ugly, sagging on the right side, and had a blanket that Rhea insisted on washing because she said it smelled like “a heterosexual couple in heat”... she was exaggerating, though... well, maybe she had a point.

But there I was again with ____ sitting on my lap, her hands pulling up my shirt as if it were the first time in my life. She laughed softly against my mouth with that laugh that made me feel like everything made sense. It always happened with her: we’d start by watching a movie, we’d talk, she’d curl up against my chest as if it were my coat, and at some point… we’d end up like this.

My fingers tangled around her waist, she bit my lip, and I lost all trace of self-control... classic.

— Felix... — she whispered against my nose, playing with my hair — The movie...

— The movie can wait — I murmured and lifted her up a little to position her better on top of me, and just as my lips were on her neck...the best spot in the world, by the way, and my hands were already about to unzip her dress

CLACK

The apartment door burst open, and I knew... God, I already knew. Rhea walked in with two grocery bags, an ice cream melting in her hand, and the worst “Not again” expression I’ve ever seen on a human being. She froze in the doorway, I froze on the couch, ____ froze on top of me. I don’t know who froze whom, but the result was... ...embarrassingly familiar. Rhea took a deep breath, a very deep breath, an extra-deep breath.

— May I ask... — she began in a tone too calm to hide the violence — What the hell do you two have with my sofa? — she asked. I blinked. ____ slid down a little, but not too far. I held her so she wouldn’t fall; that would be even more humiliating for us

— It's not your sofa, — I replied, because I clearly wasn't thinking straight — It's our sofa

— NO! — she raised a bag as if it were a weapon — It’s my sofa because I bought it when you didn’t have thirty cents to your name and ____ was still too pretty and innocent before she met you to be involved in your… things, Felix — I looked at her in surprise, ____ hid her face in my shoulder, I wanted to laugh… I didn’t say I had to, but I wanted to

— Rhea — I tried — We were just…

— ELEVEN? — she interrupted us — ELEVEN, FELIX, I’VE CAUGHT YOU ELEVEN DAMN TIMES! — she held up a finger for each number; I thought she’d run out of hands before she finished counting, though she was still one finger short — What’s wrong with you two? Do you have a fetish for this sofa? Does this excite you? A self-control issue? Or is it some kind of ritual for your... — she made circles with her hands — Sexual dynamics? — she asked. ____ moaned softly against my neck, out of embarrassment, not the good kind; I, on the other hand, had to hold myself back from bursting out laughing.

— Rhea, we can explain it

— No, you can’t, because there’s no logical explanation that justifies why every time I step out for a bit, I come back in and find you two riding each other like rodeo horses on MY sofa — she looked at me, then at ____, then at the sofa, then back at me — If this sofa could talk, it’d be demanding labor rights

And with that, she turned on her heel, grabbed her ice cream, muttered “Kill me” and went into her room without closing the door all the way because, according to her, “I don’t want to be locked in here with your sexual energy floating in the air.” The door slammed shut a second later, and everything fell silent. I was still sitting there, ____ was still on top of me, my breathing was still ragged, she lifted her head very slowly with red cheeks, swollen lips, and that adorable “Let the earth swallow me” expression

— This is your fault, she said in a low voice

— Why mine? You were here too

— Because you started it! — she whispered loudly

— You think so? — I smiled, running a finger along her waist — I’m pretty sure it was you who sat on top of me ten minutes ago with that “Kiss me now” look on your face

____ covered her face with her hands and mumbled something incomprehensible that I think meant “We should be ashamed”, but not me, not as much as her. I stroked her back and she lowered her hands, giving me that look that always disarmed me, a mix of shyness and affection, something that made me feel that even though Rhea had interrupted us eleven times, I wouldn’t want to change a single thing about that moment.

— So... — I whispered softly, brushing my nose against hers — Do you want to continue on the sofa. — she opened her eyes wide

— Felix? — I smiled even wider, leaning down to her ear

— ...Or should we go to the bedroom? — ____ pushed me gently in the chest, her face red as a tomato, but she laughed, and that sound killed me as always

— Let's go — she murmured, hiding her face — To the bedroom, before Rhea kills us — I picked her up in my arms and carried her while she whispered my name between nervous giggles, and the sofa....well, it stayed there, probably traumatized, but always available

The next morning, I was probably grinning like an idiot as I drank my coffee, when Rhea walked into the living room holding a blue folder, looking as if she were at a funeral and radiating the same energy as a teacher fed up with idiotic students, ____ and I were having breakfast...

Well, “having breakfast”, ____ with a glass of grape juice and me finishing off a piece of bread that had been sitting there for three days and my coffee, Rhea stood in front of the couch, cleared her throat, and opened the folder as if she were a lawyer reading the charges in a trial.

— All right — she began with a calmness so fake it was scary — Due to certain recurring activities, I’ve decided to establish rules of coexistence for this apartment — she announced. ____ and I looked at each other; I knew exactly what she was referring to, so did she, so did the sofa, we all knew. Rhea held up a printed sheet of paper — Rule number one — she read — The couch is NOT an ACTIVIST center for human reproduction — ____ almost spit out her juice; I leaned back, smiling uncontrollably

— Rhea...

— Silence! — she held a finger up in front of my face — Felix, you shut up, ____, you too, sweetheart, I’m fed up. Do you know how many times I’ve had to sit on THIS thing wondering if you two were doing it right there...? — she shuddered — No, no more — Rhea tapped the sofa with the folder as if scolding a dog

— Poor sofa — I whispered. Rhea shot me a look that could have killed a dragon.

— Rule number two: If you need to... — she made a gesture with her hand that seemed to mix quotation marks and embarrassment — ...Do things, use your hormones, release tension, whatever... you go to ____’s apartment.

— What? — she complained, still flushed

— Yes! — Rhea nodded firmly — There you can destroy YOUR bed, YOUR sofa, YOUR table, YOUR floor, whatever you want, but NOT here. This is MY common area, and I want to be able to eat popcorn without thinking about you two panting on this couch

— We never pant that hard.... — I muttered, earning a withering glare from both of them

— Eleven times, Felix! — she shouted — Eleven! Eleven interruptions! ELEVEN! Do you want me to list them for you? Because I can, I've written them down — she pulled out another sheet of paper, I WASN'T KIDDING, SHE HAD A FUCKING LIST — First time: me arriving with sushi, second: ice cream, third: with my professor, fourth: with the TV cable technician, fifth: w_

— Okay, okay, we get it — ____ interrupted, burying her face in her hands — Please stop talking — Rhea sighed deeply...and continued reading

— Rule number three: The sofa will be considered a sacred zone, sacred like a temple, sacred like ballet to you, ____, sacred like your emotional stupidity to you, Felix

— Hey

— SHHH! I’m talking — I accepted my defeat; Rhea solemnly put away her papers as if she’d just issued a royal decree — Rule number four — she continued — If I ever see you two on the sofa again in circumstances involving skin, kisses, suspicious hands, or anatomically controversial positions... — she smiled maliciously — I’ll take away your blanket and burn it — ____’s eyes widened as if someone had threatened to kill a puppy

— Don’t burn the blanket... it’s soft

— I’LL BURN IT — Rhea repeated. ____ squeezed my arm; I let out a laugh. — And the final rule — Rhea raised the folder triumphantly — For everyone’s sake, for my sanity, and because I can’t afford therapy… go fuck yourselves in ____’s apartment, not mine, end of story — silence, categorical silence. Rhea closed the folder, tucked it under her arm, and turned toward her room… but she stopped and pointed at us — And if you don’t comply… I’ll kick you out and leave you this demonic sofa as an inheritance

Her bedroom door slammed shut. ____ was in shock. I ran my hand over my face, biting back a smile, and glanced at her out of the corner of my eye.

— Do you want to…? — I murmured, making an obscene gesture with my hands.

— NO — she said, completely serious.

— It was just a question…

— NOT ON THE SOFA, FELIX — she interrupted me, clearly scared.

I laughed a lot, too much actually. The sofa was still there as a witness, a victim, and a future urban legend, and the new apartment rule was officially written: “If you want sex → go to ____’s apartment.”

I’m not going to lie, the updated house rules that Rhea posted on the fridge door were so over-the-top they looked like they were written by a military drill sergeant with a serious patience deficit, and it was all the sofa’s fault.

“Rule #6: No using the sofa for non-recreational activities between 8 a.m. and 11 p.m.”

“Rule No. 7: No using the couch for non-recreational activities between 11 p.m. and 8 a.m.”

“Rule No. 8: Felix and ____ are absolutely forbidden from even LOOKING at the couch with ulterior motives”

Who makes a rule that forbids you from looking? Rhea, apparently, and I promised to respect them, I promised, I wanted... to try, to be a decent, stable, and mature person, to earn points as a responsible adult, but then ___ came to visit me, and she came in that skirt, and she smiled that way that curves her cheeks and bends my entire will.

So I was practically doomed from the moment I said hello; as soon as I walked into the apartment, Rhea came out with her giant thermos, and I heard the door slam and her usual shout.

— Rule number five, you losers! I’ve got you on camera! — she threatened. I knew it was a lie, but I always fall for it, and then we were alone, and the couch… well, the sofa was there watching us and playing dirty

— We shouldn’t — she said, but she was already biting her lip, and that never means “No”

— You're right — I replied as I took her by the waist and led her toward the sofa — Let's be responsible adults

— Sure — she whispered, but she was already laughing against my mouth

We let ourselves fall right there among the pillows that Rhea had arranged with love and that were now destined to die in battle; the adrenaline was part of the charm, that absurd danger that Rhea might open the door at any second. ____ was leaning against me, her breath mingling with mine and my hands moving up her hips, nothing scandalous yet, just… too obvious.

— This is ridiculous — she laughed softly as she unbuttoned my pants

— I know, but I love it — I replied, running my hands over her thighs

— Me too — she paused to tease me

 — Are you sure? — I asked, bringing my face close to hers

 — Mm… yes… just… don’t make a sound — she whispered as she knelt down on the floor between my legs

 — You’re the one — I ran my hand through her hair

— Felix, shut up — she interrupted me with a smile; my inner self was celebrating with my eyes

And yes, I was too caught up in the moment, too focused on how she unzipped my pants and then tied her hair into a bun, ____ pulled down my pants along with my boxers just enough for my “Not-So-Mini Felix” to pop out, a name that ____ hates that I use, but I didn’t say it out loud to kill the moment. ___ grabbed the base with one hand and brought her mouth to the tip; I held back a groan as soon as I felt the touch of her lips

When she wrapped her mouth around the tip, she made circular movements with her tongue, sending a shiver down my spine; her mouth sank deeper, taking it halfway in. My hand went to her head, guiding her movements, while my other hand was over my mouth, muffling my moans and grunts. She looked up at me, and I swear I almost came right then. I thought about saying something, but I heard the key and that fateful turn in the lock, causing us both to freeze.

— It can’t be… — ____ whispered nervously, pulling my member out of her mouth.

— It must be Rhea — I whispered, flustered — Chill, we can pretend that... that... I don’t know, that you’re giving me CPR — I said, my mind going blank

— And what kind of CPR is this?! — she asked, upset, wiping the saliva away with her forearm

— Uh. . . just improvise — I replied nervously. The door opened, and it wasn’t just Rhea who walked in, it was Rhea. . . and the neighbor from the package

The neighbor who had two kids, the neighbor who invited us to her birthday parties, the neighbor who asked us to pick up a package two days ago because she wouldn’t be in town. I almost had a heart attack right then and there.

— WHAT ARE YOU DOING? — Rhea asked, her eyes wider than ever

— Oh, my God! — the neighbor exclaimed, clutching her chest — But this is... this is... — she didn’t finish the sentence; she couldn’t, and neither could I

____ backed away from me, jumping up like a scared kitten; I tried to adjust my clothes without using my hands because it seemed that if I raised them high, maybe God would forgive me sooner.

— We weren’t_ — I tried to say.

— I don’t want any details! — Rhea shouted. — I don’t want any details, FELIX! Not one more mental image! I can’t stand another visual tragedy!

— My children. . . — said the neighbor in a calm but traumatized voice — I understand you’re young and....oh my God — she turned away in embarrassment; ____ was red, as red as a newborn tomato

— I'm so sorry, Mrs. Ames — she murmured, hiding her face in her hands

— Uh... yeah, me too — I murmured. Rhea closed her eyes, breathing as if she were trying not to commit a crime, and pointed toward my bedroom door

— Go to your room — she ordered

— But w—

— GO TO YOUR ROOM! — she interrupted me, furrowing her brow even more

— Yes, Mom — I nodded, lowering my gaze

— I’m not your mother, Felix — she murmured, raising an eyebrow in confusion

— Uh… yeah, Rhea — I grabbed ____’s hand, and we practically slipped into my room. The door closed, and we fell silent. ____ looked at me, covered her mouth, and burst out laughing. — It’s not funny — I said, but I was already laughing too, unable to help myself.

— Felix... — she said between laughs — Mrs. Ames’s... her face...

— The sofa is going to exorcise us — I ran my hand through my hair, trying to gather my thoughts

— We deserve it

— Okay, but... — I looked at her, still unable to stop smiling — Tell me it was worth it

— More than worth it — she replied, leaning in again — But next time...

— What?

— Let’s go to my apartment — she whispered

— Oh, you’re so boring... — I gave her a little nudge on the shoulder

— Felix — she warned me

— Okay, okay — I agreed, leaning in to kiss her; the sofa had lost that battle, but I’d won the day

A few minutes after Rhea had returned the package to Mrs. Ames, she made us leave, and ____ and I were now sitting on the sofa like two children caught stealing cookies, except that what we’d been doing had been… well, not cookies. Rhea was standing in front of us with her arms crossed, her brow furrowed, and the expression of someone who’d seen too much for a single lifetime.

— You two — she began, pointing at us as if she were a judge — You’re a couple of incorrigible horny bastards

— Hey, hey — I raised my hand indignantly — We’re not the only ones; half the world is horny

— HALF THE WORLD ISN’T MY PROBLEM, FELIX! — she shouted — My problem is you two, you. Two, right here! On MY sofa! In MY apartment!

— “My sofa”? “My apartment”? — I asked — I thought it belonged to both of us.

— Now it’s mine — she replied — You know why? Because you’ve spiritually desecrated it.

— It’s a sofa, Rhea, not a temple.

— TO YOU IT LOOKS LIKE AN ALTAR! — she exclaimed, agitated. ____ squeezed my fingers, trying to intervene with her sweet, diplomatic voice.

— Rhea... we’re really sorry, it was a mistake, we didn’t mean to— she tried to explain while I nodded at everything she said.

— Oh, no, no, no! You did want to — Rhea interrupted, pointing at us — You clearly wanted to

I would have kept arguing, but Rhea was so red she looked like she was about to explode, and something inside me said, “Yes, Felix… now is the perfect time to tease her some more.”

So I turned to ____, wrapped an arm around her waist, pulled her close, and kissed her on the cheek, then again, and again, and again, making exaggerated kissy noises like we were a cartoon couple. ____ started laughing instantly, trying to pull away.

— Felix... come on, stop it — she muttered, but she was clearly amused. Rhea looked at us with utter horror.

— STOP IT RIGHT NOW! NO! I CAN’T TAKE IT ANYMORE! I HATE YOU GUYS!

— See? — I said to ____, laughing — And they say I’m the one who overreacts

— FELIX! — I didn’t finish teasing him because a pillow flew straight at my face, and Rhea has great aim

POOF.

It hit me right on the temple, and ____ doubled over with laughter.

— YOU DESERVE IT! — Rhea shouted, already picking up another pillow as if she were ready for war

— Hey, domestic violence! — I protested as I placed the first pillow on my legs

— We’re not a family, Felix 

— You say that as if it weren’t sad to hear — I feigned drama, ____ took a deep breath, still clinging to my arm

— Rhea....we’re really sorry, seriously, it was silly, it won’t happen again — she promised. I looked at her, ____ looked at me, and gave my side a very subtle pinch....message received. Rhea finally let go of the pillow and exhaled as if her soul were in pain

— I can’t believe the two of you are reproducing in another universe — she said, lamenting

— Hey — I replied — I’m very fertile

— AND THAT’S EXACTLY WHY YOU NEED TO LEAVE THE SOFA ALONE! — she raised her hands, arching an eyebrow, ____ covered her face, laughing, I hugged my girlfriend tighter and rested my head on her shoulder

— But we’re so in love — I said, feigning innocence, Rhea shot me a death stare

— One more word, Felix, ONE, and I’ll make you sleep on the balcony — she threatened me

— ... — I stayed silent

— That’s what I thought — she whispered contentedly, just as Rhea headed out into the hallway muttering insults; I managed to give ____ another kiss on the neck, and another pillow flew at me from the doorway

⚠️🎞️⚠️🎞️⚠️🎞️⚠️

I don’t know at what point we stopped watching the movie and started looking at each other… well, that’s a lie, I do know, it was exactly when ____ settled more comfortably next to me on my bed, leaving her neck right there, a few inches from my mouth, as if she expected me to behave, as if she didn’t know perfectly well that I don’t behave.

The laptop was resting on her lap, illuminating us with that bluish glow, and the chase scene was already starting, but all I could notice was her soft perfume, her calm breathing, and that habit of hers of biting her lip when something on the screen stresses her out.

And of course... I took advantage of it, leaned in, and gave her a soft kiss on the neck, then another a little lower, and another one more, ____ let out a soft laugh, the kind that makes my fingers want to slip under her blouse just to hear it more.

— Felix... — she warned me between laughs — Focus, the gunfight scene is coming up — she told me; I never understood her fascination with the sound of bullets... just like with horror movies...

— I’m focusing — I murmured against her skin — On what interests me

She gave me a gentle nudge with her shoulder without taking her eyes off the screen, though I did see her cheeks turn pink. God, I never get tired of that. My fingers found the top button of her blouse; I fiddled with it for a second without unbuttoning it yet, just to see her eyelashes flutter.

— No — she said half-heartedly — We're watching the movie

— We can do two things at once — I whispered, slowly unbuttoning the first button

My mouth moved down right where that button had been, and ____ took a deep breath, that breath that gives her away because she’s trying to look serious and only ends up looking even more adorable. Another button, another kiss further down. The movie was still playing, but I had no idea who was fighting whom anymore.

— Felix... — she repeated, but it no longer sounded like a scolding, more like she was trying to remind herself that we were watching something important. I smiled against her skin because I know perfectly well when she’s losing that internal battle

— Calm down, dancer, if you want I’ll pause the movie — I joked, unbuttoning the third button; she let out a nervous laugh and gave me a gentle slap on the chest

— You’re not pausing anything

— Okay, okay... — I relented... though my fingers were already moving down to the next button — I just wanted to offer a solution

My mouth followed the path, leaving a warm, slow kiss right where I knew it would make her sigh, and there it was, the sigh—the one that escapes her without permission, the one that makes me want to shut down the laptop and forget everything else. ____ tilted her head slightly as if seeking more contact, but forced herself to look back at the screen.

— Felix... please...

— Please what? — I asked with a smile she surely felt on her skin

— Please... — she took a breath — Let me watch the fight — she asked. I chuckled softly because she herself didn’t know if she was asking me to stop or to keep going. I undid the next button

— Okay, watch it — I replied, sliding my lips just below her collarbone — I’m just… keeping myself entertained

— You’re impossible… — she whispered, but her hand was already on the back of my neck, caressing me and pulling me closer to her, and yes, the fight started, but neither of us watched it

The movie was still playing on the laptop, moving forward as if we really intended to watch it. ____ was, in theory, still focused, in theory, because every time I moved my hand down to play with the fabric of her skirt, her back would tense up just a little... and that was so damn adorable that my fingers did it again.

I slid my fingertips along the hem of her skirt, lifting it a few centimeters, nothing scandalous yet, just enough to see how she pressed her lips together, trying to stay serious.

— Felix... — she warned me

— Yeah, pretty girl? — I asked as if I were the most innocent person on the planet. I lifted the fabric up a little more; she gave my hand a gentle slap without taking her eyes off the screen, making me laugh and giving her a little nibble on her neck

— Behave yourself — she murmured, though her tone said anything but that. I smiled. Good heavens, that woman drives me completely crazy.

I leaned in and kissed her, not a soft kiss like before, no, this time a deep, intense one, the kind that makes her arch her back and forget the world. She let out a little sound against my mouth, and that was my undoing.

As I kissed her, my fingers finished unbuttoning the last buttons of her blouse. I didn’t even bother to hide it, nor was there any need to. She was busy holding onto my shirt as if she wanted me to stay there forever. I parted my lips for just a second to look at the dark lace of her bra.

— Wow... — I said with a cheeky smile — I love this one. You should’ve warned me you were wearing it.... pure cruelty, ____

— Felix... — she tried to protest, but I had already kissed her again

Every time she tried to say something, my mouth found hers again, and she gave in, she always gave in, not because she was weak, no, because we know each other too well, because her breath trembled just before she surrendered, because her hands tangled in my hair begging for more even though she didn’t say a word.

— You’re... — she tried again between kisses — Impossible...

— I know — I whispered against her lips as my hands slipped under her skirt, removing her underwear

My hands returned to her waist, her skirt, her warm skin; ____ looked at me as if she wanted to push me away... but her eyes were too bright, too soft to be believable. I kissed her again, slower, deeper; her hands slid down to my neck, traced my chest until they reached the waistband of my pants. I smiled between kisses.

— Desperate — I whispered, pulling down my sweatshirt along with my boxers

— You’re the desperate one — she replied, but covered her mouth to stifle a moan when I slid two fingers inside her and began to move them; she arched her back and crumpled the sheets with her free hand

— Wow... you told me to behave, but you’re already so wet — I teased — I don’t think we even need foreplay anymore. Do you want me to put it in now? — I asked with a crooked smile. She nodded several times. I pulled my fingers out, making ____ let out another gasp. Instinctively, I brought those fingers to my mouth, savoring her taste

— D-don't do t-that — she whispered, pulling my arm. I smiled even wider and kissed her hand. A sound like an explosion came from the movie, and... yeah, that poor movie didn't stand a chance anymore

— Mmmm, finger-licking good — I joked. She let out a little giggle. I moved closer, aligning my member at her entrance. I leaned in to kiss her as I entered her. She moaned between my lips, clinging to my arms

I barely moved, just a slight adjustment of position on the mattress... but enough for ____ to let out a broken sigh against my mouth. Oh, perfect, that sound—that damn sound always destroys me. I felt my skin prickle and my hands instinctively seek her waist, pulling her closer to me. My lips curved into a smile against hers.

— Don't do that... you're squeezing me so tight — I murmured between kisses, my voice now lower, deeper — You're going to drive me crazy

____ took a deep breath, trying to keep her composure, but when I kept moving, she let out that soft sigh again which, honestly, was the best fuel I could give my brain at that moment.

— F-Felix, — she murmured, clutching my shirt; I laughed, my mouth brushing her neck.

— God… ____, you’re irresistible — I whispered, planting a slow kiss just below her collarbone. — Do you know what you do to me when you sound like that?

Her back arched involuntarily when I slid my fingers along the hem of her skirt again, and her breath caught. I kissed that reaction as if it were my own.

— But... — I added, not stopping my movements against her as I held her hips — You have to try not to be so loud — I left another slow, wet kiss on her collarbone — Rhea can hear us... — I continued with a cheeky smile because the truth is, I loved provoking that mix of embarrassment and desire in her — And she’s already got her sights set on us

She pressed her lips together as if to hold back another sigh, but she failed; that sound escaped softly, trembling, and  perfect. I laughed softly in triumph, picking up the pace, feeling her body move with each thrust as her moans grew louder.

— ____...you’re not helping me keep us in “Silent Mode” like that... — I whispered, gently biting the edge of her jaw before kissing her again with more intensity, moving a little more as I felt her body respond to mine — But I’m not going to complain either

I shifted slightly, just a different angle, turning her onto her side while lifting her right leg up to my shoulder, but enough for ____ to let out a little muffled moan that she tried to bury against her arm; her other hand clung to my shirt as if she depended on it to keep from melting completely. I pulled her blouse off completely and looked down at her slightly lifted skirt, smiling like an idiot who was in love and turned on at the same time.

— God... I love your skirts — I murmured against her mouth, moving deeper inside her again — They make you look so beautiful... and so tempting at the same time — she trembled beneath me, her lips brushing against mine in a desperate sigh

— F-Felix... more... — she asked, barely audible, as if saying it broke her a little and turned her on at the same time, and I lost all trace of self-control

I kissed her hard, hungrily, with that urgency only she could bring out in me. My hand slid down her thigh, guiding the movement as I picked up the pace, feeling her breathing quicken, her body moving in sync with mine almost as if she already knew exactly what to do.

— Like this.... — I whispered over her mouth, panting against her lips as I moved faster again, more forcefully — That’s it, ____.... with me — she moaned again, this time a little louder, and I had to bite back a laugh — Shhh... — I said, kissing her again as I wrapped my arms around her waist, pulling her closer — I want you like this... but they’re going to kick us out of here

____ tried to reply, but her voice broke as I moved again, more intensely, more confidently. I returned her to her starting position, and she wrapped her legs around my torso while her fingers dug into the back of my neck. I leaned close to her ear, breathing against her warm skin.

— Next time... — I murmured in a low, raspy voice from the effort and from how much I wanted her — Put on pantyhose — she shuddered so hard it almost made me lose my rhythm; I smiled at the sight of her slightly glazed eyes and her half-open mouth — They look great on you... — I added, kissing her neck and pressing a little harder against her — Too good....

____ She let out a small gasp that she tried desperately to hold back, and I grabbed her waist, guiding her movements with mine.

— Lower, pretty one. . . — I whispered before kissing her again without stopping — I don't want to stop, and neither do you

We’d been there for quite a while now, lost in that rhythm that only she and I knew so well. My breath was ragged and hot against her neck; every time I moved faster, ____ arched her back as if she couldn’t help it… and I loved it, I loved it too much.

I squeezed her waist tighter and sped up roughly, just the way she liked it. Her skirt was a mess; her blouse and bra were scattered about. My fingers left marks on her skin, our bodies colliding to the frantic rhythm we both needed. ____ stammered my name between ragged sighs, completely surrendered, completely mine in that moment.

— Felix... Fe-Felix... — she gasped, barely able to keep her eyes open. I leaned in and devoured her mouth in a hungry kiss, one that stole her breath and mine too. I smiled against her lips, fascinated by every sound she made

— God... look at you... — I murmured in a broken voice, kissing her again as I kept moving — I love your expressions when we’re like this

____ nodded, trembling, biting her lower lip so she wouldn’t be so loud, though she still let out those soft little moans that were driving me wild.

— Don't do that... — I whispered, trapping her lip with mine, taking a deep breath so I wouldn't lose control too soon — If you bite yourself like that... I won't be able to stop

She let out a louder sigh, and I felt her body react, how she tensed up, how she held me tighter. I held her closer in my arms, closing the distance between us as I kept setting a deeper, faster rhythm, leading us straight to that point where neither of us could feign calm.

— __-____.... — I gasped, resting my forehead against hers when I felt her breath falter — Almost there...

She moaned my name, clinging to me as if she were sinking, and came first; it was quick, intense, and she ended up trembling completely beneath my hands. That tremor dragged me with her in a matter of seconds; I let out a muffled growl against her neck when I reached my limit, pressing her against me, but pulling out of her just in time, and I felt my whole body shudder as I held her up so she wouldn’t collapse.

____ collapsed, breathing desperately, and I wrapped her in a warm embrace, still unable to catch my breath completely. I covered her face with slow, gentle kisses, as if to soothe the tremor still running through her body—it was something that had started to become a habit with her.

— Beautiful... — I whispered against her cheek, stroking her hair — So fucking beautiful... — she closed her eyes, still gasping, sinking deeper into my chest, and I... I just wanted to keep holding her there, like that, as if that moment were a little eternity all our own

I could still feel ____’s warmth against me as I leaned down to button her blouse; her trembling hands rested on my arms, and I gave her a quick kiss on the cheek, one of those gestures that said nothing and yet said everything. then I adjusted her skirt, making sure it was sitting right, though in reality I didn’t care so much about the appearance as the fact that she was watching me with those big, slightly shy eyes.

— That's it — I said in a low voice, as if we didn't want to break the silence that had settled in after... what we had just done

____ She didn't answer; she just looked at me with a strange gleam in her eyes that mixed embarrassment with something deeper, something that always disarmed me, I shrugged and smoothed out my pants, pretending everything was perfectly normal, as if what we’d just done hadn’t happened. The movie on the laptop we’d left on the corner of the bed was already rolling the credits; the sound of applause and the final music filled the room with an almost ironic sense of normalcy after what we’d just experienced.

We settled under the blanket, barely covered, and I let my arm rest on ____’s shoulders as she curled up next to me. I could feel every breath, every little tremor of her body, and suddenly everything else disappeared. The room was silent, except for the murmur of the movie and our own exhaustion. That’s when the door burst open. Rhea walked in without knocking, with that direct, abrupt manner she always had.

— Are you done with the movie yet? — she asked curiously. I glanced at ____ out of the corner of my eye before answering

— Yeah, it’s over — I replied, pretending everything was normal. ____ gave me a gentle nudge, blushing with embarrassment, and I smiled without taking my eyes off Rhea

— So, how was it? — Rhea insisted, crossing her arms, clearly wanting to know if it was worth her watching it later

— Intense and rough — I replied as casually as if I were talking about anything else. ____ gripped my waist tightly, somewhere between surprise and embarrassment, while I kept talking to Rhea, taking advantage of the fact that she didn’t suspect a thing.

— Intense and rough? — she repeated, raising an eyebrow, but without realizing what it really meant.

— Yeah, you know... — I continued playing with the ambiguity while keeping my hand on ____’s waist — The usual

____ sighed, hiding her face a little against my shoulder while I squeezed her waist just a little tighter, almost instinctively enjoying the closeness and the controlled awkwardness that always accompanied her after these things.

— Well... — Rhea finally said, as if simply accepting my answer — Dinner will be ready in a little while

— Perfect — I replied, loosening my grip on ____ slightly and straightening up

— Yeah... I hope you’re hungry, ____, because Felix is always hungry — Rhea commented, looking at ____ with an intention I didn’t quite understand; ____ gave a thumbs-up

— Yes, ____, I’m always hungry — I joked. She rolled her eyes but smiled, and I could see how her discomfort mingled with amusement. That little gesture, the way she looked at me even when she was embarrassed, made me want to hug her again and tell her that everything was fine, that none of this mattered as long as we were together

Rhea left the room with a slight nod, not without first casting a glance that, to anyone more perceptive, would have been suspicious, but we stayed there under the blanket, still feeling the warmth of our recent contact, still feeling the tension of what we’d shared just a few minutes ago.

— Are you okay? — I whispered, leaning in to brush my forehead against hers. She nodded, still blushing, and I made sure our blanket wouldn’t leave her shivering or exposed, wrapping my arm a little tighter around her.

— Yes… I’m okay — she replied in barely a whisper, but filled with all the sincerity I needed to hear.

I looked at her for a moment, trying to commit that moment to memory, her breathing still ragged, her hands trembling, and that mix of embarrassment and calm that only appeared after we’d been together like that.

— We’ll eat in a little while — I reminded her, more to break the tension than out of necessity. — And don’t worry, I won’t let Rhea suspect a thing.

____ laughed softly, and I smiled too. Despite everything, despite what had happened before and what would likely happen later, those moments when we were alone, when I could protect her from everything, were the ones that truly mattered to me.

— Promise me you’ll always hold me like this — she whispered, resting her head against my chest

— Always — I promised, pressing a kiss to the top of her head, right between her hair and her forehead

And as I looked at her under the blanket with the room silent and Rhea preparing dinner a few feet away, for a moment everything seemed right, everything seemed simple and ours, and nothing else mattered, just us, our blanket, and the peace of mind knowing that for now, it was still just ____ and me.

---------------------------

God, how embarrassing... these two’s first s3xu4l interaction, and it’s oral s3x HAHAHAHA [So embarrassing]

Facts: Yeah, it’s a fetish.... + This is the first time I’ve posted a chapter a day early [That’s also why I wasn’t satisfied with it and rewrote it, I apologize] + ____ likes Felix’s hair, way too much I’d say

Anyway, I hope you liked it. Don’t forget to hit the heart, comment, and follow me for more updates. Thank you so much for reading. See you on Wednesday ✍️(◔◡◔.).

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[autorapan]

𝐀 𝐁𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭 - 𝟕.- 𝐁𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐡 𝐄𝐩𝐢𝐬𝐨𝐝𝐞 (part 7/?)

𝐉𝐚𝐱

I don’t know if it’s day or night… there are no windows in my room, so time becomes an abstract concept, something you can only feel in your body, and my body feels heavy and tired, as if I’d been crying for hours… because that’s exactly what happened.

I’m still lying here looking at the stars hanging from the ceiling; they’re small and imperfect, but symbolic since Ribbit brought them. Others are misaligned, but I’ve always liked them that way. I remember them clearly; I placed them one by one when Jax had already been trapped in the circus for a few hours, I was up on a ladder, stretching to reach the ceiling, and he was just watching me, sitting in one of the chairs in silence with that expression of his that I never quite knew how to decipher.

I let out a slow sigh and finally sit up. My porcelain feet touch the floor with a soft, almost hollow sound; my little heels are there, firm and immovable, part of me like everything else. Here we can’t take off our clothes, or our shoes; nothing changes, nothing comes off. Sometimes I feel that even the pain remains stuck to the body, as if it were also part of the costume.

I stand up slowly, and as I look up, something doesn’t add up… the mirror, my practice mirror. I frown immediately; my heart skips a beat. That mirror shouldn’t be there. I broke it myself. I remember the sound of the glass shattering, the reflection shattering along with me. I remember crouching down, trembling, to pick up the pieces from the floor.

I jump to my feet and crouch down to look under the bed, but there was nothing there, no glass shards, no stacked photos, no sharp edges or traces of that night. I slowly straighten up, feeling a cold shiver run down my spine, and then I see them.

The photographs are there, perfectly aligned on the wall, as if someone had placed them there carefully, all intact and real... from every daydream, from every adventure. I approach with slow, almost fearful steps.

There I am with Ribbit, dressed as pirates, striking exaggerated dramatic poses while a crooked flag flutters behind us. In another, the cabin in the snowy mountains, the white sky, the ground covered in fake ice, but beautiful all the same—absurd adventures, moments that, even within this circus, felt alive.

My fingers tremble as I pick up a particular photograph; only Ribbit appears in it. She has an amused smile and is wearing a cowboy hat clearly too big for her head—she stole it from an NPC during a Western adventure. I remember laughing so hard I ended up sitting on the ground, gasping for air. I stare at her for long seconds.

— Ribbit... — I murmur without realizing it... and then I hear her, not Ribbit's voice, but someone I thought I'd lost years ago

— Liora... — my body tenses instantly; it wasn't a loud voice, it was a soft whisper, too close. I swallow and glance sideways at the mirror and see her, my mother is reflected in one of the corners of the room, standing there staring at me intently; her eyes are the same ones I remember, the same ones that looked at me when I was a child, when I was thirteen and still believed the world had a logical order. — Liora... — she whispered again.

The air catches in my throat; I jerk my head toward the corner of the room, but there’s nothing there. I start breathing fast, too fast; my chest rises and falls irregularly as I keep staring at that fixed point, waiting… fearing she’ll appear again. My mother died years ago, long before the circus, long before all of this

— No... — I whisper — You’re not here

The knock on the door makes me jump so hard that the photograph almost falls from my hands.

— Liora? — I recognize Pomni’s voice outside my room

I force myself to move, carefully placing Ribbit’s photo back on the wall as if it were fragile in a different way. I walk to the door, my heart still racing, and open it just a little. Ragatha is there, and behind her, Pomni cautiously pokes her head in.

— Have you seen Caine? — Ragatha asks, leaning forward slightly. I block their view of my room with my body and look at her, still disoriented.

— Why would I know where that toothy-headed guy is? — I reply, frowning. Pomni blinks, and a giggle escapes her when she hears my nickname for Caine.

— We haven’t seen him anywhere — says Pomni, covering her mouth with her hand.

— And… you always spend time alone with him — adds Ragatha. Confusion immediately spreads across my face.

— What? No, I-I don’t — I trail off mid-sentence. “I never spend time alone with Caine”, that’s true. At most, I give him suggestions, ideas for adventures, offhand comments, but never… never do I stay and talk to him alone. I open my mouth to say it, but exhaustion washes over me like a wave, I run a hand over my face, dragging my fingers across my porcelain cheeks. — I'm... going through a breakup — I finally murmur. — So... if neither of you has any miraculous advice to make it hurt less, I'd prefer if you left me alone for a few days, until I get over it... or until Caine proposes one of his silly adventures.

I’m about to close the door when Pomni steps forward and stops it with her hand.

— You could help us look for Zooble — she says — Maybe it’ll distract you a little

I take a deep breath, look back toward my room, toward the stars on the ceiling, toward the intact mirror, toward the photographs that shouldn’t be there… but they are. I nod silently.

— Okay — I agree, stepping out of the room and closing the door behind me. Outside, Gangle is there too; she greets me with a shy gesture, and I return the greeting with a slight nod of my head.

I don’t know if this will help me forget, I don’t know if distracting myself will be enough, but for now, walking is better than being alone with my thoughts… and with the ghosts that seem to want to talk to me when I close my eyes.

We spent several minutes at Zooble’s, and sure enough, Caine wasn’t anywhere to be found. It was strange; he… one way or another, he was always around. Finally, Pomni approached a toy box that didn’t quite fit in that spot, and when she opened it, she smiled a little as she removed the lid completely.

— Oh, is the adventure over already? — Zooble’s voice came from inside.

— No, actually, the adventure hasn’t even started yet, — Pomni replied, turning to look at us as we approached her

— Oh, in that case, close the box and find yourself a hiding spot... — Zooble’s arm reached out to close her box, but Pomni stopped her by flinging it open.

— It’s not that. It’s just that none of us has seen Caine all day — Pomni explained, sounding puzzled.

— Hallelujah — I joked without humor; seeing that neither Ragatha nor Gangle laughed, I just sighed deeply

— Oh, and Gangle was looking for you — Pomni added, pointing at Gangle as she stepped aside; Gangle approached with a smile

— Hi, Zooble! — she greeted, pulling Zooble’s head out of the box. I smiled seeing them together; I was glad that Gangle now had Zooble as a friend

— Watch — Ragatha’s voice caught my attention — What’s this? — she asked, picking up a sheet of paper that was stuck to a giant green block

— Hello, my little rubber baby buggy bumpers! Today I’ve decided to go to the store to buy the essential ingredients for my famous “Milk and cigarette casserole” — Caine’s voice sounded as if he were present… and indeed he was — He loves you very much, Mr.   Caine — he concluded, freezing in place and raising a finger upward

— Great, can I go to sleep now, please? — Zooble asked disinterestedly

— So, what’s the adventure, Caine? — Ragatha asked. Both Zooble and I looked at her in confusion; I don’t want an adventure right now.

— Oh, I didn’t prepare any adventure today, so you can do whatever you want — he replied, shrugging his shoulders and waving both hands in a dismissive gesture. Zooble’s body sprang up, and her head flew off.

— Mmm, I love it — she admitted. I nodded in agreement with her. Caine floated over, lying back with his hands on his chin while eyelashes fluttered from his eyes.

— And wouldn’t you like to ask me what to do today, Zooble? — he asked, clasping his hands and batting his eyelashes at Zooble.

— Eh, nooo — they replied, narrowing their eyes.

— What would you suggest we do? — Gangle asked, raising her hands slightly.

— Gan-Gangle! Ahh — Zooble tried to stop her, but there was no turning back.

— Oh, whoops, sorry — she replied nervously, clasping her hands together.

— Great question, Gangle! — exclaimed Caine as his head grew larger right before our eyes — I suggest we ask... The Chinese Room! — he pointed dramatically at a Chinese door; Zooble sighed in resignation

— Let's see what we get — they muttered, frowning

— Can I go now? — I asked, but no one answered

Caine pulled three sheets of paper with Chinese characters from his pocket, looked at them closely, and slid them carefully under the door. He stood up, freezing in place once again

— And I don’t get why it’s in Chinese. Is this some kind of absurd joke? — Zooble asked, irritated

— It’s just that behind this door there’s a mystery — he said, as if telling us a secret — But I’m confident it's a fluent Chinese speaker who will give me advice    

— Can I ask why? I mean, what for? — Zooble asked, but was interrupted by Caine's hand

— Shut! If you interrupt the joke, you’ll ruin it — three sheets of paper with Chinese characters fell out of the door, and Caine grabbed them to read them; he laughed maniacally, opening his mouth wide, and Zooble sighed again

— And what did it say? — asked bored

— I don't know! I don't understand Chinese! — he replied, tossing the sheets into the air

— Are you serious? — I asked incredulously, but Kinger's laughter caught my attention

— Hilarious — Zooble said, rolling his eyes.

— I don’t know, go have fun at the digital lake, — Caine suggested. — Those locations are always available if you want to go; I don’t understand why you never do — he explained. I ran a hand over the back of my neck, feeling the strain from our last adventure.

—I don't know, the last time I went, I sank into the water — I confessed, glancing sideways at Zooble. They nodded, remembering it too.

— Let's have a fffffffffffffffreaking beach party! — Bubble suggested, appearing out of nowhere.

— Good boy! — Caine's hand grew larger, patting Bubble as if they were a little dog.

— Ooh, that's such a great idea! — Ragatha said excitedly. I grimaced; the only thing I liked about that place was the fishing area, but being in the water...

— Plus, there are lots of special NPCs there that you've never interacted with before — he added, raising a finger and stepping closer

— Are those NPCs dumber? — Zooble asked

— Not a single brain cell, totally dumb... and well, what are you waiting for? — he replied, then raised his hands and vanished in little clouds

☀️🏖️☀️🏖️☀️🏖️☀️

— Wow, what a nice day! Wow! — the sun exclaimed from above

— Hi, Sun! — I greeted, but the sun completely ignored me — Rude... — I whispered, furrowing my brow slightly, and walked over to the others

— All right, so who wants to go into Caine’s magical dressing tent first? — they asked, pointing to the red-and-white striped tent, a pretty color if you ask me

— I guess… I could go — Pomni replied, approaching somewhat hesitantly. Once she stepped into the dressing tent, it moved in a cartoonish way and spat Pomni out onto the sand wearing an outfit consisting of a light blue top with white stripes and light blue shorts

— Wow, you look mediocre! — said the sun. I glared at her and surreptitiously flipped her off… though it was censored. — If you want to get sunburn, just let me know!

— But I don’t want to get a sunburn — Pomni replied, looking at the sun, confused and uncomfortable.

— You should’ve thought it through before I decided I hate you — she confessed with a big smile.

— I repeat... rude — I muttered more to myself than to the others

— Ah, don’t worry about the sun; it likes being that way — Ragatha consoled Pomni, crossing her arms and then shaking her head in disapproval. Everyone jumped in and was spat out wearing swimsuits

I was the last to get in, and once I hit the sand, I noticed my swimsuit. It was a red one-piece with white stripes… classic, too flashy for my taste when most people were wearing light blue, but I had no choice. Here, you don’t really get to choose anything

— Wow, Lio, that’s cute — Ragatha complimented me; I smiled, a little embarrassed.

— Yeah, thanks, but I think the red was a bit much — I replied as I turned around a bit so she could see it better. I sighed and turned to look at Ragatha again, but she looked at me in surprise. — Is something wrong? — I asked curiously. Ragatha pointed to my arm, and I knew what she meant. She didn’t know about it; only I and… Jax did. — Oh, that was a while ago, Ragys, — I replied, downplaying it. I didn’t remember much, but I was sure it happened the day Ribbit abstract

— Is there one on your chest too? — Zooble asked. I tensed, looking where she was pointing, and sure enough, there was a new crack right in the middle of my chest

— Liora… you’ve got one on the back of your neck too — Gangle pointed out. I ran my hands through my hair and realized it was tied up in a bun

— Uh… just ignore that — I waved my hands dismissively — I’m sure Caine will fix it

Pomni looked at me, not entirely convinced, but they decided to let it go. I sighed in relief, though I still didn’t understand why I was cracking if I was supposed to be made of porcelain as strong as Caine’s eyes.

Everyone started having fun and relaxing. I tried to smile, and I even pretended to enjoy myself when Gangle offered me a digital drink that smelled like coconut, but just looking at the horizon was enough to wipe the smile off my face.

The sea stretched out before us, undulating with that deceptive calm that had always terrified me; just seeing it made my legs tense up, my stomach clench, my breath come in short gasps. It wasn’t just fear, it was panic. The idea of sinking, of being swallowed whole, was too much.

And yet, something was missing... I wasn’t aware of it at first; it was more of an uneasy feeling, like when you know you’ve forgotten something important but can’t remember what. My eyes scanned the beach once more, taking in the others, the chairs, the digital towels... and then I saw him.

Jax was standing apart from the group, almost at the opposite end of where most people were gathered. He was sitting in a slightly tilted beach chair, staring at the water without really looking at it. He hadn’t changed; he was still wearing his pink overalls, as if the very idea of putting on a swimsuit hadn’t crossed his mind… or as if he didn’t want to be part of this at all.

My chest tightened. I shouldn’t care, I told myself that right away. We were over; I’d said it myself. I’d shut that door with words that still burned in my throat, and yet, seeing him there alone, something inside me stirred without permission, a silent, treacherous worry. I wondered if he was okay, if he felt as out of place as I did, if the sound of the water bothered him too, even if for different reasons.

I quickly looked away, annoyed with myself. No, I couldn’t keep doing this. I looked at the lake again, trying to force myself to focus on something else. The reflection of the sky gave me a dizzying sensation; I couldn’t see the depths, I never could. I felt that if I got too close, something might pull me in and swallow me whole without effort. I knew it was irrational, that nothing here worked like in the real world, but my body couldn’t distinguish between a real threat and an imagined one.

I took a deep breath once, then a second time. When I looked up again, Jax was still there, motionless and alone. Then I understood something that hurt to admit, no matter how much I wanted to forget it, no matter how much I knew that walking away was the right thing to do... I still loved him, not in a clean or simple way; I loved him the way you love a wound that no longer bleeds but still hurts when it’s brushed against, the way you love something that broke you but also held you up when everything else was falling apart.

I didn’t get up right away; I stayed seated for a few more seconds, wrestling with myself. I knew that approaching him didn’t mean going back, it didn’t mean promises or reconciliation, it was just… being there, sharing the same silence, and even so, the simple gesture seemed dangerous to me.

Finally, I gave in. I stood up slowly, shaking the sand off my legs a little. I avoided looking at the water as I walked; each step toward Jax felt heavier than the last, as if I were moving against an invisible current. No one seemed to notice; no one said anything… not even him.

I stopped beside him for a moment, undecided. Jax didn’t lift his head; his hands rested on his legs, but there was something about his posture that I recognized all too well, that tense stillness of someone who’s thinking too much. I sat down in the sand right next to his beach chair.

I didn’t look at him right away; I just stared at my hands resting on the sand, feeling its strangely warm texture. The sound of the water was still there, but from that angle it felt a little less threatening, maybe because I wasn’t alone.

— You didn’t change — I said finally, breaking the silence with a softer voice than I’d expected. Jax barely turned his head toward me; he didn’t smile, he didn’t make a sarcastic comment, he just looked at me as if he wasn’t sure whether I was real or not.

— I didn’t want to — he replied. I nodded slowly, as if that answer explained more than what he’d said out loud.

We fell silent again. It wasn’t awkward; it was… heavy, laden with things that had already been said and many more that would never be said. The digital wind gently ruffled my hair; the water kept lapping in and out, always the same, always different.

— I don’t like the sea — I admitted suddenly without looking at him — I’ve never liked it — Jax didn’t respond right away

— I know — he said after a few seconds — You told me — I let out a small sigh, almost a humorless laugh

— It scares me — I added — No matter how many times they tell me there’s nothing down there, I feel like… if I get too close, I’m going to disappear — Jax looked down at the sand

— Sometimes — he whispered — Disappearing sounds tempting. — I didn’t know how to respond to that.

I looked at the lake from our safe distance; from here it seemed less dangerous. It was still big, yes, but it wasn’t screaming at me, it wasn’t calling to me, maybe because I was sitting next to someone who understood at least a little what it felt like to be afraid of things that others considered harmless.

— I didn’t come for you — I clarified in a low voice, though I wasn’t sure who I was saying it to

— I know — she replied without looking at me — Still… thanks for sitting down…

I nodded; my fingers sank a little into the sand. I realized my breathing had become more even since we’d reached the digital lake. The water was still there, the fear was still there, the love too, all coexisting in an uncomfortable, imperfect way… but real.

I didn’t know what would happen next; I didn’t know if this silence was an ending or just a pause, but for now, sitting on the sand next to Jax, far from the group and far from the water, I knew I wasn’t ready to face the lake… or my feelings, and yet, I stayed.

— You have a crack — he said suddenly.

I blinked and looked down at my porcelain chest; the crack ran down the middle of my chest and crossed over to where my heart was supposed to be. It was like a delicate yet obvious line, impossible to hide once someone noticed it. I ran my fingers over it, not to cover it, but out of habit.

— It appeared on the day of the Best Character Awards — I replied flatly. Jax frowned slightly.

— Was that… before or after you...

— After — I cut him off gently, but with no desire to drag out the conversation. He nodded slowly, didn’t press the issue. I was grateful for that.

A digital breeze blew between us; the beach chair creaked slightly as Jax shifted his weight. I kept staring straight ahead, avoiding the water, avoiding his reflection, avoiding thinking about how many things had broken before we got to this place.

— Do you remember that time we went to the beach with...? — he began. My body tensed immediately; he didn’t say the name, he didn’t need to.

I felt it just the same, like a sharp punch to the stomach, as if the air had suddenly grown thicker; my fingers tightened slightly on the sand, and it took me a few seconds to respond, searching for a way to do so without my voice trembling.

— Yeah — I said at last — It ended badly. — Jax fell silent. — I panicked. That wave... it hit harder than I expected. I couldn’t breathe. I felt it dragging me under, like I wouldn’t be able to get out. — My chest tightened just remembering it. — You pulled me out in time...

I didn’t look at him, but I knew he was listening; he didn’t interrupt, he didn’t make jokes, he didn’t try to downplay it, which made it worse… and better at the same time. We stayed silent for a while.

The lake was still there, indifferent to everything it had taken before we even knew this circus existed. I thought that silence would be the end, that we wouldn’t say anything important again.

— Do you regret anything… before getting trapped here? — Jax spoke again; the question hit me like a ton of bricks.

My first response was immediate, brutal, clear: “Yes.” My biggest mistake had been loving him, but I didn’t say it. I looked up and met his gaze for the first time since we’d sat down there. Jax was still staring at the lake, but his expression was still, open, and vulnerable in a way I’d rarely seen before. I didn’t need to say it out loud; I think he understood the moment our eyes met.

— Loving me — he said softly, without a trace of mockery — Right? — I felt something tighten in my throat; I didn’t deny it, I didn’t nod, that was enough

— We were so young — I managed to say finally, looking away — Too young... — I swallowed — I was still twenty and you were twenty-two when I got pregnant — the words came out slowly, as if each one weighed more than the last — We thought we knew what we were doing — I continued — That love was enough, that we could handle anything — I let out a brief, bitter laugh — We were like children in many ways… and we didn’t see it, and we lost her — I said in a whisper

I didn’t need to explain further; Jax said nothing, his shoulders tensed slightly, his hands clenched on his legs, he stared at the sea as if some answer were written there that he would never find. I thought that would be it, that after that there would be nothing more to say, that this memory was too heavy for the two of us to bear without breaking something again, but Jax spoke.

— Sometimes I dream with her — he confessed. I turned my head slowly toward him; his gaze was still fixed on the lake, but his eyes shone differently. — She runs toward me — he continued. — She laughs; she moves just like you do... and that sparkle in your eyes... I always try to catch up to her, but I never get to touch her — his voice broke on the last word. I felt something inside me give way; I didn’t cry, not yet, but the pain spread like a new crack, parallel to the one I already had in my chest. — And I wake up, — he added. — I always wake up before

The silence that followed wasn’t awkward; it was sacred and painful, filled with everything we couldn’t be. I didn’t know what to say to him; there was no possible comfort for that. I just moved a little closer without touching him, sharing the same space, the same grief that never ended.

The lake was still there, the crack too, and Sylvia… existed in that fragile place where dreams that could never come true live. We both remained silent. I noticed Jax was about to speak again, but a great stream of water fell on him and a little on me, sending a chill down my spine. Jax let out a sigh as Zooble moved closer.

— What was that? — he asked, his voice devoid of humor

— Ah, let’s see… for example, that time you ran me over with a steamroller, when you pushed Gangle into a pool full of piranhas, when you set me on fire, mailed me a pipe bomb, threw me into an active volcano… — they began to list, and I laughed a little at that last one, but I pretended to cough to hide it — And I could go on — they leaned forward slightly, narrowing their eyes, and Jax sighed wearily again

— Aren't you supposed to be miserable about your ability to choose your own body, or something? — he asked sarcastically

— And aren't you supposed to be insufferable, like always? — Zooble retorted, crossing their arms, and now it was my turn to sigh wearily

— Can you… please be quiet? — I asked, running my hands over my face, my mind still reeling from Jax’s confession. Zooble looked at me for a few seconds while Jax averted his gaze to the opposite side where Zooble and I were standing

— A while ago, I started seeing stability as a good thing, that it’s okay to change. You don’t have to be the same every day — they said, looking at their hand, which resembled Jax’s glove. I smiled a little, happy for them

— How about that... — Jax replied, hugging himself. Zooble looked at him in silence for a second.

— And if one day I were to have a problem, I’d talk about it... with those I trust — they continued, gesturing toward the others. Jax sighed heavily again, stood up, and slipped back into his usual mask.

— Good thing I don’t have any problems, right? — he says, turning to leave. I jump to my feet too, because it was clear our conversation wasn’t over.

— Where are you going? — Zooble asked, raising an eyebrow.

— Somewhere no one can rip my ears off with their nonsense — he replied, forcing a smile before continuing on his way, walking away from the lake, from the sand… from me

My body reacted before my mind did; I leaned forward, ready to move, to go after him. We weren’t done, not after Sylvia, not after everything he’d just said.

— Are you really going behind him? — Zooble’s voice stopped me. I turned slowly; Zooble was looking at me with crossed arms, their expression hard and protective in a way he only showed toward Gangle. — After everything he did to you — they continued — After how he treated you out there… Do you really plan to keep following him?

I felt a weight on my chest. I remembered that Zooble knew. I’d told him everything—the fights, the broken promises, the times I cried in silence while he pretended not to notice, the emotional neglect, the constant fear of not being enough...

— It’s not that, I replied in a low voice.

— Then what is it? — Zooble asked. — Habit ? Dependence? Or do you still think he’s going to change?

— No — I replied, shaking my head — I don’t believe that anymore

— Then tell me something, Liora — their tone softened slightly as they looked at me intently — Do you still love him? — the question pierced me; I didn’t have to think about it, I didn’t have to justify it

— Yes — I whispered, holding his gaze; saying it out loud hurt more than I expected. Zooble closed their eyes for a moment and sighed

— You’re incredibly stubborn — they murmured, narrowing their eyes — And also incredibly brave… or incredibly foolish; I haven’t decided yet — I didn’t answer; I was already taking two steps forward

— I have to talk to him, not to go back, not to fix anything — I clarified

— Then? — they asked, raising an eyebrow

— To finish a conversation we left unfinished — I replied. Zooble watched me for a few more seconds, then nodded and took a step back

— Go — they said — But don’t break yourself any more than you already are

I didn’t promise anything; I started walking after Jax, my steps firm on the sand, the sound of the lake fading behind me. I didn’t know what I was going to say to him, I didn’t know if he’d listen to me, I only knew one thing: my conversation with Jax wasn’t over yet, and even if it hurt… we had to put an end to the whole Sylvia thing

I stopped dead in my tracks halfway there. The breeze brushed against my skin, and it was only then that I looked down and realized: the red swimsuit with white stripes, the sand clinging to my legs, the lake behind me, and me running after him like that.

— Perfect, Liora... — I muttered through clenched teeth

I turned immediately and practically ran into Caine’s dressing tent; I didn’t think too much about it, I needed to get out of there, I needed to go after Jax without feeling exposed, without feeling like the whole world could see me breaking down, I burst out two seconds later in my usual outfit, the white dress, delicate, almost fragile, with the red ribbon cinched at my waist, like those porcelain angel figurines that adorn Christmas tree, pretty, still, intact on the outside, even though inside they’re full of cracks.

I started running again; I knew where I was going. Jax always went there when he needed to hide... the rooms, the hallway stretched out before me, long and silent. I saw him immediately from behind, with one hand already on the doorknob.

— Jax! — I called out breathlessly. He tensed up and turned his face just enough for me to see his profile. For a second, I thought he was going to stop, that he was going to wait for me, but he didn’t. He went inside and closed the door; the sound was sharp. I stood still, my chest burning. — Of course… — I murmured, letting out a frustrated sigh.

I wasn’t going to knock on his door; I wasn’t going to beg him to come out. I’d already done enough of that in another life. I turned around and walked toward my own room, each step heavier than the last. When I entered, everything was just as it had been that morning.

The soft lights, the strange, indefinable smell, and the Polaroid photos covering the wall. My fingers brushed against one of them without my noticing as I walked past. Adventures, smiles, frozen moments that seemed to belong to another version of me, one who wasn’t tired, one who still believed that pain always led somewhere.

I sighed and let myself fall onto my back on the bed; the mattress gave way under my weight with a soft creak. I turned my head to the left; my reflection stared back at me from the mirror...

My breathing quickened. In the corner of the room, just as it had happened before, I saw her again... my mother. She was there, motionless, watching me with that expression I could never quite decipher. She wasn’t smiling, she wasn’t frowning, she was just... there. My whole body tensed.

— Mom... — I whispered, barely audible. I blinked; when I looked again, she was gone. In her place, in the exact corner where she had been, there was something impossible

A hole. It wasn’t a shadow; it wasn’t an illusion. It was an irregular, door-shaped opening, as if someone had violently ripped a piece out of the room. The edge seemed to be made of black glass, vibrating softly. My heart began to race.

— No... — I murmured, sitting up slowly

I blinked several times, squeezing my eyes shut tightly as if that might erase what I was seeing. When I opened them, the hole was still there. I swallowed hard and looked back at the mirror. My breathing became erratic. There she was again. My mother crossed the reflection with slow steps and, without looking at me, stepped into the hole.

— Nein! — I shouted, jumping to my feet — Mama, warte! (No! Mom, wait!) — I ran toward the corner without thinking; the air seemed thicker with every step. I approached the edge of the hole and felt a deep chill run through my fingers. — Bitte... — my voice trembled — Bitte geh nicht... (Please... don’t go...)

I crossed the hole; the world changed suddenly. The ground vanished beneath my feet and reappeared immediately, solid yet strange. Everything around me was made of tall, infinite, distorted mirrors, reflecting light from impossible angles. My breath bounced off the surfaces, multiplying... it was a labyrinth.

— Mom! — I screamed, spinning around — Mama, bitte! (Mom! Please!) — her reflection appeared in the distance, rounding a corner; I ran toward her, my hands crashing against the mirrors, my footsteps echoing hollowly; every time I thought I’d reach her, she vanished into another reflection — Verlass mich nicht! — I sobbed as I ran — Bitte, nimm mich mit! (Don’t leave me! Please, take me with you!)

I slammed into another mirror with force; the impact sent me tumbling to the floor. When I looked up, I froze. It wasn’t my avatar staring back at me, it was me… the real me, with light blonde hair falling in soft waves, tired, human blue eyes—it was the face I’d had before the circus. I frowned automatically.

— No... — I whispered. The reflection stared back at me with infinite sadness. Something inside me snapped. I let out a muffled scream, raised my fist, and struck the mirror with all my might. The glass shattered into a thousand pieces; the shrill sound pierced me like a scream. — Lass mich in Ruhe! (Leave me alone!) — I kept moving forward; every mirror I encountered became an obstacle that I destroyed, struck, and shattered. The glass fell at my feet like sharp rain. — Mom! — I kept screaming, my voice already broken— Mama, bitte... bitte... (Mom, please... please...)

The labyrinth had no end, and I had no intention of stopping either; even if I had to shatter every reflection in the world to find her, the reflections began to close in around me, there was no longer just one, there were dozens... hundreds.

Me looking at myself from every possible angle, crying, furious, broken, motionless; each mirror reflected a different version of me, all trapped at the same point in time. I felt something inside my head tense dangerously, like a string about to snap.

— Enough... — I whispered, pressing my hands to my temples — Enough, please... — but the labyrinth wouldn’t listen

The reflections began to move, not really, but enough for my mind to feel them alive; some versions of me looked at me with reproach, others with pity, and still others with a tenderness that hurt more than any judgment.

I was sick of this, of everything, of everyone. I raised my arms and struck the nearest mirror; the glass shattered, the sound deafening, but I didn’t stop. I spun around, smashing one after another until my knuckles cracked as if the porcelain had shattered again, and my arms trembled.

— Leave me alone! — I sobbed — Leave me in peace!

Tears blurred my vision, but I kept moving forward, shattering and destroying every reflection that tried to trap me; every shatter was a scream I hadn’t been able to let out before, every shard on the floor a promise that was never kept.

Then I heard it... a cry, not the echo of my sobs, not a distorted reflection, a real cry. I froze completely; the sound was coming from behind me.

I swallowed hard; my body tensed as if the air had turned solid. My heart was pounding so hard it hurt my chest. Slowly, very slowly, I turned on my heels... and there it was: a white crib. It was small and simple, but impossible.

Inside, a bundle wrapped in a pink blanket moved gently as the crying filled the room. I felt my legs give way; I approached step by step, as if I feared that if I moved too quickly, everything would vanish.

— No... — I murmured — It can’t be...

I leaned over the crib; my hands were shaking so much that I had to brace myself against the edge to keep from falling. Carefully, I lifted the bundle, and then I saw her, a baby...

Dark hair just beginning to grow, big, moist brown eyes looking at me without understanding a thing about the world, her cheeks flushed from crying, her tiny fingers instinctively clenched around my dress, the air left my lungs.

— Sylvia... —I whispered without realizing I was saying it out loud; I didn’t need to check if it really was my Sylvia, I already knew, that feeling only a mother could recognize in her baby

My eyes filled with tears instantly; I clung to the crib with one hand so I wouldn’t collapse as I held the baby against my chest. The connection was immediate and overwhelming; the crying gradually subsided, replaced by soft little whimpers until she finally calmed down, as if she recognized me. I couldn’t stop crying.

— I'm sorry... Syl — I pleaded through my tears — I'm so sorry... it's my fault

I closed my eyes, holding Sylvia tight against me, as if someone were going to take her away at any moment. My whole body was shaking; every fiber of my being screamed that this couldn’t last, that it was a cruel illusion, that I shouldn’t cling to her, but I couldn’t let her go. Then I heard a voice.

— ____...What’s going on? — I opened my eyes suddenly; the maze of mirrors had vanished.

There was no more broken glass under my feet, no more multiplied reflections. I was sitting on the couch in the apartment… our department, the wooden floor, the light-colored walls, the light streaming in through the window.

And in front of me was him, not Jax... Felix, the real Felix, the one with messy dark hair, brown eyes full of confusion and worry, wearing the old T-shirt he used to sleep in. He quickly came over to me, kneeling in front of the couch.

— Hey, sweetheart. — he said softly — Why are you crying like that? — he called me sweetheart, just like he started doing when I got pregnant, before everything went to hell

Felix raised a hand and wiped my tears away with his thumb in that automatic gesture I knew by heart; I kept crying, unable to stop myself.

— I had — I tried to speak between sobs — I had a nightmare...

He frowned slightly, but immediately smiled tenderly, leaned down, and kissed my forehead gently, as if I were made of glass.

— Hey, it's okay — he whispered — It's over now, you're here, we're fine. — My breathing began to slow down just a little. Sylvia stirred in my arms, letting out a little whimper. Felix let out a low, tired but warm laugh and looked down at her. — I think someone here disagrees — he said, amused. — Look at that little face... she clearly prefers me.

— That's not true... — I murmured, taking a deep breath to calm the trembling in my body. Felix smiled even wider and held out his arms

— Come here, princess — He gently took Sylvia from my arms; she protested for a second and then settled against his chest. Felix began to rock her gently, walking slowly around the room. — Shh… — he murmured to her — Daddy’s here… everything’s okay…

I watched them, the way he held her, the confidence in his movements, the gentle smile on his face; the scene was so perfect it hurt. Sylvia calmed down completely, her eyes closing little by little. Felix looked at her with an expression that broke my heart. It was pure love, without fear, without guilt.

I looked at him and a wave of emotions washed over my chest: love, pain, longing, and guilt, all mixed together. I wanted to tell him it wasn’t real, I wanted to warn him, I wanted to hold on to that moment forever, but I said nothing.

I just watched him rock our daughter in our apartment, in a life that never existed... and never would, and yet, for a fleeting moment, I let that sustain me.

Felix sat down next to me carefully, still holding Sylvia in his arms, and without thinking, I let myself fall against his shoulder; I fit there as if that spot had always belonged to me. His arm went around my back, wrapping me in a way so natural it made me close my eyes for a moment. He pulled me closer, protecting me as if nothing could reach us in that small space.

— Are you calmer now, honey? — he asked in a low voice

I nodded slowly; my chest felt less tight, the trembling subsiding little by little. I opened my eyes and looked at him; Felix returned my gaze with that mix of weariness and tenderness that always made me feel at home. I hesitated for a few seconds; the words got stuck in my throat for an eternal second. I knew saying them was dangerous; I knew I shouldn’t, and yet...

— I love you — I whispered. Felix didn’t seem surprised; he smiled gently as if he’d been waiting to hear it.

— I love you too — he replied without hesitation — Always

Something inside me clicked into place; I felt a sense of fulfillment so intense it hurt. I smiled as I watched Sylvia sleeping, her breathing calm, her small body rising and falling with every heartbeat. For a moment, everything was whole; nothing was missing, nothing hurt... maybe everything about the circus was just that... a nightmare.

Then it happened... a sharp knock on the door, my body shook violently, the world suddenly shattered, I opened my eyes gasping, the living room was gone, the sofa had vanished, Felix and Sylvia were gone.

I found myself sitting on my bed with my heart racing and my breathing ragged. I looked around frantically, at the walls of my room, the artificial light, the strange silence of the circus. In the corner, there was no hole, just the smooth, intact wall as always.

— ...Another illusion... — I murmured, bringing my porcelain hands to my face. I rested them there as if I could feel something other than cold. I swallowed, trying to compose myself. The knock on the door sounded again.

— Liora — Ragatha’s voice came from outside again — Can you open the door? We need to talk, — I stood up clumsily and approached the door

— Now isn’t a good time — I replied, my voice still trembling. Before I could say anything else, the door opened a little wider. I frowned; there was Ragatha, and beside her, Pomni, and next to them a figure I didn’t recognize rightaway, a wooden mannequin... well, an NPC. I stared at it, completely baffled. — What...? — I murmured

— Liora — Pomni said quickly — Don’t be scared

— It’s not a good idea to get attached to NPCs, you know that — I said more bluntly than I intended, nodding toward the mannequin. Pomni shook her head immediately

— It's not an NPC — he clarified. I blinked in confusion and looked at Ragatha for an explanation

— It's human too — she clarified — It's just that its avatar... well, it was that one

The mannequin raised a hand and waved it slowly in a clumsy greeting. It had no face, but somehow I felt it was... nervous

— H-hello… Liora — he greeted me in a soft voice that didn’t quite match his form. My confusion only grew. Pomni stepped forward.

— Liora, we need you to talk to Jax — she said seriously — In case he doesn’t listen to us…

My stomach clenched immediately. Pomni looked curiously past my arm into my room. Following her gaze, I remembered the Polaroid photos on the wall; the memory shot through me like an electric shock.

“No”

Without thinking, I stepped out into the hallway and closed the door behind me, leaving the room safe from prying eyes.

— Go on, then — I murmured. — But I can’t promise anything if he slams the door in my face — I added, looking at her seriously.

I still didn’t fully trust the mannequin. With every step I took, I watched him out of the corner of my eye, expecting him to do something strange, but he just walked silently, following the group with slightly stiff movements.

The four of us took a few steps down the hallway toward Jax’s room; my heart began to pound again. I knew that whatever happened behind that door, nothing was going to be easy. Pomni rang Jax’s doorbell; it took him a few seconds to open it, but he opened it just enough to speak.

— Better make this important — he said with a weary sigh

— Can we talk? — Pomni asked, pointing at the mannequin. Jax opened the door wider to see us fully, stepped out of his room leaving the door slightly ajar, and leaned against the wall

— And what’s an NPC doing here? — he asked, clearly not in the mood to talk

— He's actually a human — Ragatha clarified. Jax frowned as he looked at the mannequin.

— You're what? — he raised an eyebrow in disbelief.

— Yeah — Pomni confirmed. — So he's not just another NPC; he's just another human. — Pomni looked up at the mannequin. — Right?

— Yes, that’s right, and I ended up in the body of an ordinary mannequin — the mannequin explained. I moved closer to Ragatha as a precaution. — So, Caine completely ignored me, but that was good because I was able to find… well, I think I found a way to leave — he confessed. I tensed up immediately. Get out? Is that even possible? Ever since I arrived, I’ve been looking for a way to avoid participating in some adventures so I could find a way out… but I didn’t find anything… neither me nor Ribbit

— “The way to leave”? — Jax repeated, not at all convinced

— Yes, the way to leave the circus and return to our world... — Ragatha said, but was interrupted by the mannequin

— Shh! Yes, but let’s be discreet! — he exclaimed in a nervous whisper — If Caine finds out, I don’t think we’ll ever be able to try again

— That's why we came to you — Pomni commented, stepping forward toward Jax. — We think you have the key to the Chinese room.

— The Chinese room? — he repeated. Now I understand why they wanted to talk to Jax...

— That's right, we need to talk somewhere where Caine can't hear us — the mannequin clarified; I was still confused — My theory is that if Caine makes a joke, he commits to it; if the joke is that he doesn't know what's inside the Chinese room, he'll never know — he stated with conviction

— Uh…let me take a look —Jax muttered, slipping back into his room

— Wow, a way out then... — I whispered, still unsure whether to believe the mannequin’s word... What will I do when I get out?... Maybe it’s good to start over. Jax’s door opened again; he peeked out, holding a bucket of keys

— These are all the keys I have that I don’t know where they go — he muttered disinterestedly, handing the bucket to Pomni. I stepped a little closer, confused

— Wait — Pomni stopped him just as Jax was about to close the door. — Don't you want to come with us? — she asked. — It's our only chance to get out of here — she insisted. Jax stood there in silence for a few seconds, and I leaned in to look him in the eyes

— Please... — I pleaded. I promised myself I’d give him that way out at all costs, and I intend to keep my word. Jax sighed again.

— Sure, why not? — he agreed reluctantly.

The five of us walked in silence once more toward the area where Zooble had hidden that morning, and Caine showed us the Chinese door. Once we arrived, Zooble and Gangle were already waiting for us there.

— Where's Caine? — Zooble asked, confused. It seems Jax and I were the last to find out about the plan... And Kinger? — He won't suspect a thing about us being here, right?

— He's probably in his office planning adventures, — the mannequin concluded, resting a hand on his chin.

— Can someone tell me why we trust this guy? — Jax asked, looking at us. — Do we have any proof he’s human? — he pressed. I didn’t want to admit it, but Jax had a point.

— I've been here longer than any of you — the mannequin clarified. — I... helped create this place — he confessed, running a hand over his neck. I opened my eyes wide as I frowned; I wanted to step closer, but Jax tugged lightly on the ribbon to stop me. I glanced at him sideways, and he simply shook his head slightly. — I'll explain everything in the room, but please, for now, trust me. You won't regret it — he told us.

Once Pomni set the bucket of keys on the floor, we began trying each one on the Chinese door. Of course, no one said we’d find the right key on the first try; by this point, I was just thinking of kicking the door until it gave way.

— Am I doing this wrong? — Gangle asked, trying to insert a key into the door, which was a failure — None of the keys fit in the lock — Jax snorted irritably and stepped forward, grabbing the doorknob

— What if we just kick it? — I asked, tossing a key to the floor. Jax looked at me for a few seconds, but then grabbed the doorknob again

— Has anyone tried...? — he didn’t finish, because as he turned the knob, the door swung open, revealing another mannequin inside

— Oh, thank God! — the second mannequin bolted out the door, leaving us speechless and me getting slammed by the door

— Ah... I... — Gangle tried to speak, but Zooble opened the door wider

— Done! It’s open! Get in fast before Caine comes — he ordered, stepping inside behind Jax. I rubbed my forehead, waiting for Ragatha to enter

— I’m going to let Kinger know — Pomni said, taking a step back. I nodded, stepping in behind Ragatha, but the mannequin’s voice stopped me.

— That can wait — he stopped Pomni. — I don’t know if I could… talk to him again, after what happened — he said, crossing his arms.

I narrowed my eyes, still not entirely trusting him, but if he knew a way out... it was worth listening to everything he said. I stepped inside the Chinese room, waiting for Pomni and the mannequin to come in.

Once they were inside, Pomni closed the door behind her, and the mannequin stood in the middle of the desk in front of us as if it were our boss... which, in a way, it is for this plan.

— All right, convince me — Jax ordered, crossing his arms. I nodded in agreement. Jax has lied to me several times; liars know each other. The mannequin placed his hands on the desk, leaning slightly forward.

— I was one of the original programmers of the Digital Circus; I was part of a team of experts hired by C&A to create all of this — he began. Hearing the name sent a chill down my spine. — Kinger was a coworker of mine back when he was still… well… — He fell silent. I looked around the room, noticing the sheets of paper with Chinese characters. The mannequin tossed a pencil holder aside and apologized immediately. — Ah, well, as the project progressed, the C&A executives became… paranoid; they started forcibly locking my colleagues inside special hibernation capsules to analyze their brains while they were still alive... it was all... really horrible — he explained. I ran a hand over the scar on the back of my neck, feeling a twinge of pity...

— That doesn’t make any sense because nobody here works for C&A — Jax countered. I glanced at him out of the corner of my eye and turned my gaze back to the mannequin. — How could they lock us in those capsules with just a helmet? — he asked. I pointed at Jax and nodded, implying that Jax was winning the argument.

— That seemed strange to me too — the mannequin said — But then I remembered that C&A was planning to expand its operations... and the last thing I remember is that I was asking too many questions, so... Poof! They locked me in; they’re probably doing the same to anyone who walks into that office — he said. I thought about his words carefully, trying to remember how I got here… but I can’t remember anymore. — Caine… is an AI — the mannequin confessed. I tilted my head to one side and raised an eyebrow.

— Wow... that must have been a surprise for you — I whispered sarcastically

— Yeah, we already know that — Zooble said, rolling their eyes, but was interrupted by the mannequin

— An AI created specifically to keep your minds active, but he’s also a prisoner of this place, one who… uh… will never be able to escape from here — he admitted, lowering his voice

— Ugh, get to the point and tell us how we get out of here, if we’re all in these capsules you mentioned — Zooble huffed, irritated at not getting to the important part

— Ah, yeah, yeah, of course... — he nodded nervously, pulling out a map while motioning for us to come closer — Sure, look, I’ve been investigating and discovered that these capsules and the virtual world run on the same program — he pointed out using a blue pencil — So, theoretically, if we can access the main console in Caine’s office and switch it off, we can wake up everyone who’s connected — he began to explain, drawing lines and circles with the blue pencil — Well… obviously except for Caine

— How are we going to get to his office? — Pomni asked

— We have to steal the key from Caine and get admin permissions — he said, rubbing his chin, then pointed at Jax — You’d be perfect for getting the key — Jax looked at him, forcing his smile even wider, and crossed his arms

— Okay, do you guys know what’s going to happen if we do this? — he asked, taking a few steps forward to lean toward the mannequin — Caine is going to pop out of nowhere and say, “Congratulations, everyone, on completing the ‘Escape from the Circus’ adventure!” — he mimicked Caine’s voice. I looked at him, but I glanced back for a second and didn’t see anything — And then everything goes back to the same old routine

— I've been watching you — the mannequin confessed, lowering his gaze — Everyone, every adventure, every happy moment, every... abstraction, every... argument or confession — he said the last part looking at me and Jax; I tensed up just like he did; if he saw us that night... it means he also saw the... — I wish I’d introduced myself sooner, but I didn’t want to ruin our only chance to escape. I had to figure out exactly how to do it. I’m not one of Caine’s creations... I’ve suffered just as much as all of you. I know this all sounds crazy, but if you follow me, I promise you freedom. — Hearing that, a small spark of hope ignited within me... maybe we could escape. — Also, I’m going to draw a little face here so you can tell me apart from any other NPC — he added, grabbing a black marker and drawing a smiley face... it was weird.

— Oh, and... What should we call you? I didn’t ask you — Pomni asked. I looked back at the mannequin, waiting for an answer

— Ah, yeah! — he exclaimed, turning around and placing his hands on his hips; he leaned forward slightly and turned toward us — My name... is Abel — upon hearing his name, the effect was immediate

My back straightened suddenly, my shoulders pulled back, my chin lifted just a centimeter. It was an automatic movement, learned and burned into my body since childhood, the exact posture my father demanded in meetings with partners, investors, and people who spoke with sharp smiles and calculating hands.

“Breathe, look them in the eyes, don’t show weakness.”

I stayed like that for a second… then two, and then I blinked. What was I doing? I slowly lowered my shoulders, the stiffness dissipating as confusion hit me head-on. I looked at the mannequin… at Abel, at that wooden figure with a happy little face drawn on it that claimed to bear that name, and a chill ran down my spine.

— You're lying... — I whispered in disbelief, almost without realizing I was saying it. Jax tilted his head slightly as if he didn't quite understand my reaction.

— I mean, did you give yourself that name or...? — Gangle asked, confused.

— Yes, it seemed really epic to me — Abel admitted. I took a deep breath, trying to dispel the childhood memories that had suddenly come flooding back. — But anyway, first things first, we have to get that key, — I pointed at Jax again. He looked at him with displeasure, but seemed willing to cooperate. — To get it, we have to isolate Caine. Meet him alone somewhere you’d normally be. Then, you’ll have to ask him about his “hobbies.” He’ll probably get so excited by your attention that he’ll freeze, and then you can take the key from inside his mouth — he explained. I grimaced at the part about the mouth

— Inside where? — Jax asked, incredulous about his part of the plan. The mannequin nodded.

— And how do we make sure Jax doesn’t mess it up with Caine? — Zooble asked, not very confident in Jax.

— Yes, the ones who can do it are Jax and Liora — Abel declared. My heart skipped a beat; I felt Jax’s gaze immediately, though neither of us turned completely, just that awkward brush of shared attention that hurt more than it should have. — Jax — Abel continued — He’s the one to make the move; he’s got the agility, the nerve, and the knack for getting into trouble without dying in the process

— You flatter me — he said, bowing exaggeratedly — Really

— And Liora — Abel continued — She’ll be there to make sure everything goes smoothly, and to entertain Caine if necessary — I blinked

— Me? — I asked, pointing to myself. Ragatha nodded immediately as if it were obvious

— Of course, Liora, you always spend time alone with Caine — she said — You must know what topics he likes or how to distract him

I felt that something didn’t add up. How…? I frowned in confusion, searched my memory, and found nothing: long conversations, moments alone, confidences… nothing. At most, I’d exchanged suggestions, quick comments about adventures, nothing more. I opened my mouth to say it, but I didn’t.

Something inside me stayed silent, maybe exhaustion, maybe fear of discovering something I didn’t remember, so I just nodded even though the confusion kept swirling in my head.

— It’s not necessary — I interjected, trying to divert the attention. — Jax can handle it on his own — I murmured. Jax finally turned his face toward me with a crooked smile.

— See? Lio trusts me. That's so sweet; it almost makes me feel loved — he said, clearly alluding to our breakup the night before. I rolled my eyes.

— That wasn't a flattery — I clarified.

— Oh, I know — he replied, leaning toward me — But I like to pretend it was — Abel raised a hand, interrupting us.

— You two are the perfect pair — he stated confidently — You’ve been that way before and you still are; your breakup shouldn’t affect this

The word hit me like a sharp blow: “Breakup.” I felt my chest tighten. Before he could finish what he was about to say, I decided to cut him off.

— Wait a minute — everyone turned toward me — “Breakup”? — I repeated, feigning ignorance — What are you talking about?

The silence turned awkward. Ragatha opened her mouth and then closed it. Gangle tilted her head in confusion. Pomni frowned in perplexity. Abel stood still. Zooble was the only one who didn’t seem surprised.

— They…? — Ragatha began, then looked at Jax and me — You two…? — I felt the heat rise to my cheeks

— They weren’t supposed to know — I said firmly. Jax let out a long sigh, clearly irritated.

— Great — he muttered. — Excellent timing for that to come out.

— You have no right to comment right now — I silenced him, looking him straight in the eye for the first time. His eyes hardened for just a second, but he didn’t respond. Abel cleared his throat uncomfortably.

— That doesn’t change anything — he said — That’s exactly why they work. They know each other; they anticipate each other even though they’re… distant.

I clenched my fists; I wanted to say no, I wanted to say I couldn’t, that it wasn’t fair, that it hurt too much, but I also knew that not doing it could put everyone at risk. I took a deep breath.

— I'll do it — I finally agreed, though the word tasted bitter — But not because I believe in that “perfect duo” stuff — Jax glanced at me sideways

— Relax — he murmured mockingly — I promise not to bite... too much

I ignored him, reluctantly agreeing, feeling something closing in around me like a gentle but inescapable trap, because even though I wanted to deny it, a part of me knew the truth: working with Jax had never been the problem. The problem was that even broken, even hurt, I still knew exactly how to move beside him.

When we went back out, we went out together, but not really “together.” Jax walked a couple of steps ahead of me with his hands on his hips over his pink overalls, swaying as if all this were just another prank from the circus. I followed behind, trying not to think about how absurd the plan was, how dangerous it sounded, or the fact that we were voluntarily approaching Caine… . and his mouth, to be exact.

The hallway seemed longer than usual, or maybe it was my head, weighed down by memories, awkward silences, and things we never said when there was still time. Jax was the first to break the silence.

— Well — he said, dragging out the word — Time to summon the supreme master of traumatic smiles — I saw him raise his hand while still wearing that fed-up expression — Hey, Caine, where are you? — he asked into the air; not even a second passed before he appeared, startling me

— Hi, Jax! — Caine greeted him, then looked at me and spun around completely — And Liora! — he greeted me before turning his gaze back to Jax — I didn’t know you could ask where I was. Good job! — he gave Jax a little tap on the head with his cane, then patted him on the shoulder

— Um… Do you want to go out to eat, just the two of you and us? — he asked, feigning interest. I nodded beside him, forcing a smile

— Wow! Two humans who want to hang out with me? — he asked himself. His eyes lit up when he saw us, and he spun around again. — I can’t turn down an offer like that! — he agreed. Jax gave me a sidelong glance.

— So where would you like to go...? — he tried to ask Caine, but Caine grabbed him by the shoulders again, lifting him up slightly. Instinctively, I grabbed Jax’s arm, and he led us to a restaurant. I let go of Jax and took a seat between the two of them in front of the glass window

— That was... weird — I murmured, feeling a little dizzy

— Tell me, Jax and Liora, what do you want to talk about, my friendos? — he asked, resting his chin on his arm propped on the table while tapping the table with a finger from his other hand

— Um… — Jax began, but Caine interrupted him, leaning in too close and then pulling back.

— Jax, wait! I wanted to talk to you about the adventures — he said, looking at both of us — How can I make them more interesting for the Zooble and the Pomnni?

— Maybe if... — he tried to reply, but Caine interrupted him again as hands identical to his appeared, handing us the menus

— Let's order something to eat first; conversations are better after some digital nutrients — he said, scanning the menu. Jax and I exchanged glances, and my eyes returned to the menu

— Yeah... I... uh... I'll have the... Gummy Shrimp? — I said to the NPC in a waiter's apron who had appeared without me noticing. Jax cleared his throat

— I'll have the same, — he added quickly.

— Excellent choice! — Caine applauded. — Shrimp have no nutritional value, but they're a blast!

Great… as the NPC walked away, I felt the silence fall between Jax and me, not a comfortable one, but one heavy with unspoken things. I took advantage of Caine being busy looking over the menu to lean slightly toward Jax.

— Remember the plan — I whispered — You pull out the pass, I’ll take care of distracting him

— Like old times... — he replied in a low voice without looking at me. That hurt more than it should have. Caine looked up suddenly.

— Oh! Were you two whispering? I love secrets! — he exclaimed delightedly. I smiled stiffly.

— We were just talking about… how much we love your adventures — I said. His eyes sparkled even more.

— Really? — he asked. I nodded.

— They’re… unpredictable — I added. — You never know what’s going to happen. That’s… exciting. — Caine swelled with pride.

— I knew you’d understand, Liora! — he said — You always understand these things I do for you — my stomach gave a little lurch; that phrase again… “always” — By the way — he continued — Are you okay? You seem a little... scattered today — my fingers clenched into fists; I had new cracks from the mirror maze

— I’m fine — I replied — Just... tired — Jax shot me a quick look filled with genuine concern before putting his mask of indifference back on

— Yes, Caine — he interjected — We humans get tired, you know... human stuff — Caine tilted his head, curious

— Fascinating — he murmured. Just then, the waiter returned with the plates; the gummy shrimp looked… wrong, too colorful, too shiny. I swallowed hard. — What are you thoughts on cedar smoked salmon? — he asked, changing the subject and sprinkling a generous amount of salt on the table — I see "cedar" smoked salmon, but I hardly "knowder" smoked salmon! — he joked, laughing exaggeratedly; both Jax and I pretended to laugh at his joke

— Um… Do you have any secret hobbies? — he asked, resting his head in his hand. Caine tensed and turned to look at him slowly; I discreetly kicked Jax’s leg under the table

— “Secret hobbies?”— he repeated, serious

— Yeah, I mean…— he looked at me for a second — Something you do alone that you’d like to… tell me about— he said, narrowing his eyes. Caine looked down, and I tensed up immediately, ready for anything

— What? I... — he whispered, his eyes glazing over — I never thought a human would ask me about... — He looked up, his pupils dilated. Jax was still smiling and gave me a knowing look. — This... is the best thing that’s ever happened to me...! — he exclaimed before freezing.

Beep. Beep. Beep.

Jax’s smile faded, and he climbed onto the table to get closer to Caine. I, for my part, also stood up in case Jax didn’t see something I did. Jax brought his face close to Caine’s mouth and grimaced before slipping a hand inside. I helped by opening Caine’s mouth a little wider so he could get his arm in properly, but we hadn’t counted on Caine snapping back to normal right in the middle of it, watching as Jax shoved his arm down his throat.

— What are you doing, Jax? — he asked, puzzled. Jax looked at him, horrified and uncomfortable, but then returned to his smile, narrowing his eyes.

— Did I tell you that it’s my biggest dream for you to take a bite out of me? — he asked as if he were reporting the weather. I nodded, regretting what I was about to say.

— And what, is my dream to watch? It gives me… human feelings to watch — I lied, wishing the ground would swallow me up. Jax looked at me for a second, amused, and Caine looked at me too before turning his gaze back to Jax, who still had his arm down Caine’s throat.

— It's rare for you to say that and want it — Caine stated. Jax pulled his hand away, covered in drool, and I handed him his cloth napkin. He grimaced in disgust and wiped himself off. — Moving on! — Caine said, clasping his hands together. — Where were we?

— At… — I took a deep breath — At you? — I jumped in before Jax could — What do you remember about your first adventure? — I pressed — How was it? — I asked. Caine’s eyes lit up again

— Oh! — he exclaimed — It was glorious, there were explosions, impossible mazes, music that didn’t match anything... — as he spoke, I noticed how his body tensed in a different way, his movements became stiffer, his pupils fluttered

— Caine — I spoke softly — And didn't you feel... alone at first?

Beep. Beep. Beep.

He froze again...

— Jax! — I whispered urgently. He was already on the move, climbing back onto the table without ceremony and thrusting his arm into Caine's throat with more determination than before

— Come on, come on… — he muttered. —Where are you hiding, you damn pass? — he mumbled, then…

— HAHA! — Caine laughed, returning to normal. — That reminds me of when nobody understood my jokes!

— F#!*+ck! — Jax exclaimed. I acted on pure instinct and shoved him; Jax fell backward onto the floor with a thud. — Ouch! — he groaned. Caine looked down, alarmed.

— What’s Jax doing on the floor?

— He dropped his fork, — I replied without thinking... the room fell silent

— Ah... — said Caine — That happens a lot — before anyone could react, I grabbed Caine’s hat and put it on; it was too big for me, which is weird since it’s too small for him...

— I've never worn one like this before — I remarked, twirling around a bit — Do I look pretty? — I asked. Caine watched me, fascinated.

— Absolutely! — he exclaimed — It gives you the air of a chaotic hostess — he commented. I turned toward Jax, who had already sat back down, rubbing his back, and felt a lump form in my throat.

— What do you think? — I asked — Does it look good on me... or should I just put on a jester’s hat instead? — Jax frowned, confused

— What does that mean...?

— Pomni — I clarified, not knowing why I kept talking — I mean, it’s funny

— Liora... — he warned, giving me a look that we should focus on Caine, but I could still feel the prick in my throat threatening to come out

— It's funny how you almost opened up to someone who just arrived — I continued, my voice lighter than I felt — Whereas when we were dating, you never did — I blurted out, the atmosphere tensed like a string about to snap, Caine watched us, delighted

— Human drama! — he whispered — I love it!

— You're exaggerating — Jax said, resting his elbows on the table — Nothing happened between Pomni and me — I laughed, not with joy, not with humor

— Of course not, — I replied — Just like nothing happened with the waitress at the café, remember? The one who was always smiling at you, the one who always found excuses to touch your hand — Jax clenched his jaw

— That didn’t mean anything...

— For you — I retorted — but for me...yes — Caine tilted his head, watching us as if we were his favorite TV show

— This is better than any adventure — he murmured

I took a deep breath, feeling the hat weighing down on my head... and the plan crumbling bit by bit right in front of us... I don’t know exactly when we went from ordering gummy shrimp to “unsolicited ex-couple therapy” with Caine leaning over the table as if he were the most invested therapist in the multiverse.

I was crying, or pretending to cry—well… a little of both. I had the cloth napkin pressed against my porcelain face, sniffling dramatically and letting out sobs that sounded like they were straight out of a late-night soap opera.

— And...and then... — I sniffled — He told me that couple nicknames were ridiculous... — Caine opened his mouth with a dramatic sound

— RIDICULOUS?! — he exclaimed, slamming his fist on the table — But nicknames are the emotional foundation of any human bond! — I nodded vigorously, riding the momentum

— That's what I told him! — I continued — That I just wanted to call him “Love” or “Sweetheart,” or... I don't know... something that didn't sound like an employment contract — Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Jax; he was stiff and confused, looking at me as if he didn't know whether to laugh, run away, or throw himself out the window

I gave him a subtle signal with my napkin, a tiny “play along” gesture. It took a second, then something clicked in his head; I saw his lopsided smile return, different, more calculated.

— Well… — he interjected, scratching the back of his neck — I was just saying they sounded… cheesy

— CHEESY! — I repeated, raising my voice and returning to “Crying.” — Do you know what’s cheesy, Caine? That when I told him ‘I love you’ for the first time, he told me it was too soon… and rode off on his motorcycle! — That was true… Caine literally froze, his eyes blinked in slow motion, and he snapped back to reality instantly

— He… left? — he asked in a low voice — After a confession of love?

— Yes! — I replied, tapping the table gently — He left me there with my heart broken into a thousand pieces — Jax looked down for a second, then sighed dramatically

— I admit it wasn’t my finest moment

— NOR YOUR WORST! — I retorted immediately; Caine leaned in closer, completely absorbed

— Go on, Liora, — he said. — I need to understand the magnitude of this emotional trauma — he requested, perfectly.

— Also... — I continued, wiping away nonexistent tears. — He also never wanted to talk about how he felt; it was all jokes, laughter, smiles, as if I were... just another spectator. — Jax raised an eyebrow.

— Hey, it’s_

— I’m not finished! — I interrupted, pointing at him with the napkin — Because besides, when I wanted quiet plans, what did he do? He’d always go out with his friends, saying he “needed some air” — Caine shook his head

— Air is important — he murmured — But not at the expense of the couple’s emotional oxygen

— Exactly! — I exclaimed, pointing at him — See? He gets me! — Jax gave me a sideways glance, amused and exasperated at the same time

— That’s not entirely fair — he said — I did things for you, too

— Oh, really? — I asked, tilting my head — Like bringing the waitress over on my birthday? — That was… sort of true, I remembered, him in his apartment with that waitress…

— It was an unexpected visit — he replied, shrugging

— IT WAS A SPECIAL DAY FOR ME! — I wailed, resting my forehead on the table; Caine put both hands to his head

— This is devastating! — he exclaimed — How did you survive so much pain, Liora? — I cringed dramatically

— I don’t know… I guess I’m invincible like Terminator — Jax coughed to hide a laugh — And besides — I added quickly before losing my train of thought — He always said we didn’t need to talk about feelings, that “Actions mattered more.”

— That’s true — Jax admitted — I still think so

— BUT YOUR ACTIONS WERE TO DISAPPEAR! — I retorted dramatically. Caine stared at both of us, speechless

— This explains a lot — he finally said — The tension, the resentment, the unresolved drama — he turned to Jax — Jax, are you aware of the damage you caused? — Jax looked at me for a second longer, then nodded slowly

— I guess — he said — I suppose so... — something in his voice... the mood in the room dropped; my chest tightened a little, but I couldn’t stop myself now

— And the worst part — I added, lowering my voice — Is that when I needed him most... he didn’t know how to support me, and here we are — Caine stood very still; his pupils fluttered

— That... — he murmured — Is a critical flaw in any romantic narrative — Caine suddenly cleared his throat as if someone had switched channels inside his head — Well! — he said, clapping his hands exaggeratedly — New topic, new topic before this therapy session ends with more unprocessed trauma... — He reached into his mouth and pulled out three photographs

He placed them on the table with almost ceremonial care; they were images like poorly rendered memories, rooms with gray carpeting, all lit by that white light that belongs neither to day nor night. It was from an office.

— But as I was saying — Caine continued, snapping his fingers — This location, the macroverse, intrigues me, and unfortunately I only have these reference photos. It’s driving me crazy! I just wish I could have a better sense of the place so I could recreate it properly. Too bad they took away my access, huh? — he complained, putting the photographs back in his mouth, and then he laughed. I felt a strange tug in my chest; before I could stop myself, the words just came out

— I can help you draw a map — I said — I know the building by heart — Silence fell suddenly. Jax turned his head toward me so quickly he almost knocked his chair over

— What...? — he asked. I blinked too. Why had I said that? Jax sighed, playing with his food — Yeah, such a shame

— But anyway, what do you think of all this? — Caine asked, leaning toward Jax. Jax looked at him strangely, and Caine continued — What do you think of all this? Aren’t I just an amazing guy with lots of hobbies, not so different from you beautiful humans? — he asked, batting his eyelashes, and hearts appeared in his pupils

— Um… — Jax didn’t know what to say; he looked at me for a sign, and I just nodded, feeling just as uncomfortable. — Sure.

— Wowie! I feel like I understand you so much better now — he celebrated, returning to his chair and wiping away a tear. — My wish is to be able to make you happy and… uh… for you to appreciate me in return; it… it makes me want…

Beep. Beep. Beep.

Caine froze mid-sentence again. Jax snorted, climbing back onto the table to retrieve the pass, making a face of disgust as he searched.

— Hurry up, Jax, he’s going to wake up — I urged, scared

— I’m going, girl — he grumbled, managing to pull out the pass while filling his hand again with Caine’s drool and making that disgusted face once more… and this man was about to change diapers…

— ...Celebrate by giving them whatever they want. How does that sound? — he returned to normal, raising his arms just in time as Jax tucked the pass into his pocket.

— Sounds good — said Jax, and I nodded several times. — Hey, we had a great meal; I loved it, but will you take us back to the circus? — he asked, hoping she’d play along — The gals and I wanted to put together something that... might or might not be a surprise for a special circus director we want to show our appreciation to — he lied, clasping his hands like a lovesick damsel; Caine got excited and stood up from his seat

— Oh, of course! — he took Jax by the hands and, with a snap, made him roll up until he disappeared into Caine’s fist, then looked at me — Your turn, Liora! — before he could take my hands, I stepped back

— Wait! — I raised my hands, took a deep breath, not entirely sure what I was about to ask — You said you’d give us whatever we wanted if we appreciated you, right? — I asked. Caine nodded several times. — Well… I wanted to tell you that… I’d like… I-if you can, of course!...uh...make me have those nice dreams of family life — I asked, not entirely convinced he could do it — Think of it as special mini-adventures just for me...

— Oh, yes! Of course! You can count on it, Liora! — he agreed instantly, taking my hands and leading me back to the circus

I fell backward onto the ground, seeing Jax to one side looking back with a frown and clenched fists, and Zooble with his arms crossed next to Gangle. I got up, wincing in pain.

— Are you okay? — I asked. Zooble just nodded, turning away from us to talk to Gangle

— Liora... — the whisper was clear, too clear. My breath caught in my throat. I didn’t see her; there were no reflections or shadows in the corners, but the voice was there, warm and familiar like a memory that refuses to die. I took a step, then another; my heart was racing. — Liora... — I stopped, even though the voice called out to me again.

I wanted to follow her, I wanted to know, I wanted to find her, but I didn’t. I stayed; I chose to stay here. The whisper faded, leaving me with a tremor in my body that took a while to subside. Jax finally turned and walked toward me; his expression was closed off, but there was something else behind his Eyes: unease and a hint of concern.

— Hey, — he said quietly, — What was all that you said to Caine? — he asked. I tensed up immediately.

— What? — I asked, pretending not to understand.

— The thing about the offices — he clarified — You said you knew the building by heart. — I stared at him, but I had no answer.

— I don’t know, — I finally admitted — It just… came out. — Jax held my gaze for a few more seconds, as if he wanted to say something but didn’t know how.

— That’s not normal — he murmured.

— Nothing here is— I replied

Silence settled between us once again, just as awkward and heavy as before. “Therapy” with Caine wasn’t part of my plan… not even what I said about Pomni. It was simply something that had been bottled up inside me for a long time and just came out. A little while later, Ragatha, Pomni, and Abel returned.

— Okay, so is Caine distracted? — Abel asked us, looking at us

— I took care of that — Jax said, taking all the credit; I just nodded. Zooble walked over to stand next to Jax

— He thinks he distracted him, but there’s really no way to know — they said, pointing at him. Jax smiled mischievously.

— You have so little faith in me, Godness — Jax replied. When he said the nickname, he glanced at me out of the corner of his eye as a clear reference to our “therapy.”

— Are you really going to start this? — I whispered, frowning.

— Ah! And why would that be? — Zooble asked in response to Jax’s comment — If this whole plan goes to hell because of you, I swear I’m going to...

— Caine really is distr_ — I assured him, moving closer to him, but Jax interrupted me by stepping in front of me

— Sure, because following a guy who’s obviously super evil is an excellent plan — he pointed out, rolling his eyes

— Yeah! — I exclaimed, no longer knowing who to be mad at

— No, no, wait a minute, — Abel defended himself, raising his arms — Do you think I...?

— Yes! — I exclaimed again, but Ragatha stepped in.

— We should all try to calm down and work together. Pomni got passes for all of us — she asked, pointing at Pomni, who was indeed holding some strange objects in her hands. — We all want the same thing... — Pomni handed one of those objects to her first.

Then she gave them to Zooble and Gangle, then approached me, holding one out, and I took it—it was a silver hand. Pomni also held one out to Jax, but he seemed to hesitate, unwilling to look at her, and snatched it away, returning to his stance with his arms crossed and his back to her. Pomni looked at him for a second longer and then walked toward Kinger’s pillow fort

— Why do they look like that? — Gangle asked Zooble. She just shrugged. Once everyone was gathered, Abel stood in front of us.

— We can only hope that what Jax did will keep him distracted. I don’t know how much we’ll be able to access without Caine finding out, so… It's time! Let's go to Caine's office — he said, then took a few steps forward and picked up a wooden block — Caine could never figure out collisions with cubes... I don't know why — he remarked, turning around and looking at the hot air balloon — Excellent, we can start now — he placed the cube on the floor and pointed at Jax — You first

— Me? Why? — he asked, not entirely convinced. Pomni walked over to him

— Jax… I promise everything will be fine — Pomni assured him. I kept watching him and wanted to say something, but I just kept quiet

— Agh, okay — he agreed, walking toward Abel — Be careful — he asked. Abel picked him up and turned him into a... ball? He threw him against the block, and he flew off from the impact

— Oh, just like in basketball! — Kinger exclaimed, looking up. I started to feel really anxious when I saw Jax disappear inside the hot air balloon.

— Okay, your turn, Ragatha — Abel said, looking at her. Ragatha stepped forward, but I stepped in front of her.

— Can I go first? — I asked. Abel looked at me and nodded. He picked me up and rolled me into a ball just like Jax, threw me against the block, and I flew upward, landing inside a slide that changed shape the further I went. It was weird. I fell backward until I reached where Jax was. The first thing I saw was a door with red and blue doors. I stayed still for a few seconds, catching my breath.

— See? — said a familiar voice — You didn’t die. — I looked up; Jax was there, leaning against the wall.

— What a relief, — I replied flatly as I stood up. — I was already planning my digital funeral. — Jax let out a short laugh, but it died down quickly.

— Are you okay? — he asked. I looked at him… really looked at him. His arms were crossed, his posture relaxed, but his jaw was tight, as it always was when he pretended nothing was wrong.

— Sure — I replied. — I love being pushed down mysterious slides into offices I apparently know better than I should.

— Hey, I didn’t ask to go first — he retorted

— No — I nodded — You’re really good at that with other things — Jax frowned

— What do you mean? — I let out a low, humorless laugh

— You say one thing — I murmured — But as soon as Pomni asks you for something... — I glanced at him sideways — You go like a little puppy

— Really? — he said, already annoyed — Here? Now?

— I’m just telling the truth — I replied, shrugging; he turned completely toward me, his eyes blazing

— You know what? We’ve had enough of this conversation from the digital lake

— What are you talking about? — I asked, frowning; his gaze hardened

— Don’t play dumb, Liora — I felt an uncomfortable tug in my chest

— Play dumb about what? — I asked, not understanding what he meant. Jax let out a brief, bitter laugh

— About “Sylvia” — the world stopped the moment I heard that name

Everything inside me froze, as if someone had paused the entire circus just for me. The name echoed… and yet it didn’t. It brought no memories, no images, just an icy void. I opened my mouth, and nothing came out.

— Who is Sylvia...? — I finally asked. My voice sounded strange even to me. Jax’s expression changed immediately; all the irritation evaporated, replaced by something much worse: confusion, and then fear.

— What? — he whispered — Liora, this isn’t funny — I shook my head slowly

— I’m not joking, Jax. Who is Sylvia? — I asked, trying to remember. He looked at me as if he didn’t recognize me

— Sylvia is... — he began, taking a step toward me — Liora, look at me — he asked when I kept staring blankly at the ceiling

— I don’t remember any conversation — I continued, feeling something break inside me — Not even at the beach… and that name… it doesn’t ring a bell — I confessed. Jax opened his mouth again, clearly about to say something important, something that could change everything, and then…

— AAAAAAH! — Ragatha shot out of the slide and fell face-first between the two of us; the impact shattered the moment like shattering glass. — Ouch! — she groaned from the floor. — Why do I always land wrong?

Jax took a step back, running a hand over his face. I stood still; the name was still hanging between us, “Sylvia.” I didn’t know who she was, and that… that terrified me far more than I wanted to admit.

The others started to arrive, but Pomni took a little longer, worrying Ragatha. When she arrived, she also fell face-first, and Ragatha let out a sigh of relief that nothing had gone wrong, but Abel didn’t show up. According to Pomni, he wasn’t coming, which only made me doubt even more...

— And now it’s my turn to fulfill my purpose, isn’t it? — Jax asked, pulling out the pass and swiping it through the door. It opened automatically, revealing a spiral staircase. Pomni walked ahead.

We started climbing the stairs, and I saw small spheres placed there that showed adventures we’d had and others that I suppose hadn’t happened yet or had already happened before I arrived at the circus.

When we reached the second floor, I saw a sphere of the Old West and smiled, remembering that adventure. There was also another one of pirates on the sea of chocolate... then there was “that” sphere, the one from the stage where I broke my halo. I brought my hands to my head, knowing it’s gone, and not even Caine could fix it... just like none of my cracks.

— Abel mentioned that the console should be behind Caine’s bookshelf — Ragatha said, approaching the bookshelf. She used her “Access,” and the bookshelf opened, revealing a passageway with small pillars topped with figures of different shapes and colors. The others gathered around, and Ragatha clasped her hands together, looking a little nervous. She let out a long sigh. — I think that’s it. We’re leaving this circus.

Ragatha held out her hand to Pomni, and she took it. Ragatha smiled and held out her other hand to Zooble, who took it and joined hands with Gangle, and Gangle with Kinger. I took a step back in fear. What will I do when I go outside? Will I have to sleep in a cold place again?

Pomni held out her hand to Jax, but he didn’t take it, looking away. Pomni seemed worried, but then she looked at me, her hand still outstretched, and gave me a small smile. I looked at her, looked at the others, and then looked around. I took a deep breath and stepped forward to take her red glove. Whatever awaits me outside... I know I can do it... or at least I want to believe so. We began walking through the hallway and past the pillars.

— Are we… are we going to be friends once we get out? — Gangle asked. Zooble looked at her.

— Why wouldn’t we be? — they asked gently.

— It’s just… it’s going to be weird — she admitted. — I only know you this way. Will it be the same when it’s… — she let out a small sob — real?

— It was always real, everything we felt, what we did, who we are... it will never leave us... and I wouldn’t want it to be any different — they replied. I thought about his words and smiled a little. I turned slightly to look at Jax, but he was looking off to the side as he walked with that pensive expression

— Thanks... for being there for me when I needed you — she thanked him, laughing a little

— And you, Liora? — Ragatha asked, catching my attention — What will you do when we get out? — I stayed silent for a while... the truth is, I don’t have anything besides ballet... I don’t think I can look anyone in the face, not my father, not my friends... not Mrs. Susan

— I think I’ll find a way to travel to Germany... — I said at last — Maybe start over there... I’m not sure yet — I just hoped I hadn’t been trapped for too long; I’d like to see my grandmother... if she’s still alive...

When we reached the console, the room had gray walls and a large screen in front, with two buttons below, one red and one blue. We let go of each other’s hands, and Pomni walked toward the buttons.

THE RED BUTTON WILL TURN OFF THE CONSOLE AND KEEP THE PLAYERS INSIDE THE CIRCUS.

THE BLUE BUTTON WILL END THE GAME AND DISCONNECT ALL PLAYERS.

The doors closed, leaving us facing the blue screen. Pomni stared nervously at the buttons and then turned to look at Kinger.

— Um, Kinger… Do you want to make the choice? — she asked nervously. I took a step back, frowning in confusion; I thought Kinger would be the least stable choice.

— Um, choice of what? — he asked, confused. Ragatha approached Kinger and Gangle.

— Are you sure “He” is actually here? — she asked, not so sure. What are they talking about? Zooble stepped forward a few paces, frowning as well.

— Huh? What? No, wait… — they began — Don’t we all want to press the blue one? Why should he choose? — they asked, pointing at him.

— What’s going on, Pomni? — I asked, clasping my hands nervously

— Um, I... What if something went wrong? Let’s just take a second to think — she continued, glancing at the buttons for a second and then at us

— Think? — I asked incredulously — Think about what exactly, Pomni? About whether we really want to go out? — I asked sarcastically

— Oh, yeah, I love pressing buttons — Kinger muttered. — Do you want me to press one of those? — he asked, stepping closer. Pomni stopped him, unsure if Kinger was fully aware of what was going on

—Huh, I-I don’t know – she stammered

– Did I miss something? I… we all want to leave, don’t we? – Zooble asked. I ran a hand over my face, thinking about running over and pressing that damn button once and for all

— Liora... — I tensed up when I heard the whisper of my mother’s voice again; I pretended I couldn’t hear her.

— Eh, Pomni? — Ragatha’s voice sounded worried.

— Yeah, no! We do want to, and... what if there’s a trick? — she asked, pointing at the screen.

— Why would the console in Caine’s office have a trick? — They let out an agitated groan — It doesn’t matter what we do! He’s going to know we were here! We have to press it! — They exclaimed

— Liora... — I heard her again. I closed my eyes, clenching my hands into fists... not now

— Wait! — Pomni stopped her, spreading her arms to keep Zooble from getting closer — We just have to be patient and go over everything we know... and, uh... maybe we could take a vote or something like that

— Liora...! — this time I heard her scream; I put my hands to my head in distress

— Halt's Maul! (Shut up!) — I shouted, taking a step forward to press that button, but Pomni pushed me back. I kept hearing my mother’s voice along with the ambulance siren; I felt like I was about to lose my mind. A heavy breath brushed against the back of my neck, and that’s what made me turn around

— Jax... — I managed to say, but he was already running — Jax! — I shouted, but it all happened too fast; he lunged forward, pushing Zooble aside without a second thought. Zooble let out a muffled cry as he lost his balance. My body reacted before my mind did; I took a step forward, trying to get in the way, reaching out my hand — Wait! Jax, n_! — I fell sideways onto the floor with a sharp thud, and then I heard it

CRACK!

A sound all too familiar, all too close. My body tensed completely; I slowly looked down, my heart pounding in my chest... my left ring finger was broken.

The porcelain had shattered into impossible angles; the fragments were scattered across the floor like splinters of fake bone. A tremor ran through me from my shoulder to the tips of my toes; it didn’t hurt as it should… but the fear did.

— No... — I whispered, clenching my teeth. Before I could say anything else, the room lit up red, a violent, alarming red that bathed the walls, the console, our frozen faces

I looked up; Jax was standing in front of the console, his fist still resting on the red button. Silence fell suddenly, heavy and absolute. No alarms, no laughter, not even my mother’s voice calling me… nothing.

— Jax... — I murmured, my voice breaking, not knowing if he could hear me. Ragatha was the first to speak, her expression shattered like my finger.

— Jax... — she asked slowly, almost fearfully — What did you just do?

No one moved; the red was still there, while I remained on the floor amid the broken porcelain, my head filled with sirens that I no longer knew if they came from the circus... or from my own memories. Jax seemed to react, turning to look at us slowly.

— I...I-I — he began to whisper, but with a crash the screen went dark, leaving us in the dark, and a party popper went off alongside celebratory music while what had been the screen split open like another door, illuminating everything in white, and Caine appeared, floating

— Congratulations, my little cattywampus cucumbers! You chose... the good ending! — he exclaimed, making a silver and green title appear — Where you realized you’d rather stay with me than go back to that old, silly macro-verse... or whatever you want to call it! I’m glad you made the right choice! — my eyes widened in horror

— You mean, so it was all... — Pomni stammered, not finishing her sentence

— An adventure, yes! — Caine affirmed, giving a proud thumbs-up — And one I’ve been planning for a long time — with a snap, he made Abel appear...that bastard — Great job with that performance, "Abel"! — they both laughed delightedly

— Thanks for the flower! Oh, and a little raise wouldn’t hurt, right, boss? — he clasped his hands together and Caine let out a laugh; I stood up unsteadily as my brow furrowed with rage

— Oh, you’ve gotten too smart for your own good. Time to delete — he said seriously, and with another snap, he blew him up into confetti. The last thing I heard from Abel was his scream as he dropped a necklace with a photo of a hot dog inside

— So, none of it was true? — Ragatha asked, still in shock — The story about C&A and their capsules, the escape.

— It's all part of my excellent desk work and high-level writing — Caine replied, still proud, as if he hadn't just shattered any hope we had of getting out

— I was right…? — Jax muttered. He hunched over further, his hands still on the table, and began to laugh maniacally. — I can't believe! I was right! — he exclaimed, falling backward while still laughing madly. I looked at him in disbelief, glancing again at my porcelain left hand, which was missing a finger.

— What would have happened to us if we’d chosen the blue button? — Ragatha asked, while Jax’s laughter still echoed through the room

— Ah, I didn’t consider that option because I knew you wouldn’t use it — he replied — So I left it to Bubble — he pointed his ceremonial staff at the bubble

— I was going to send you to Shrimp Town! — he exclaimed happily.

— Yeah, you were going to San Marisco — Caine nodded. Jax leaned on the table as his laughter shifted from maniacal to hysterical; he took a deep breath and looked down while slamming his fist on the table.

— You lied to us! You scumbag! You...You made me. You got in my head — he exclaimed, agitated; his voice cracked for just a moment — You just...You lied to us about everything, didn’t you? — he demanded hysterically

— I didn’t... What? — Caine stopped, confused

— Yes, you can get inside our heads, can’t you? The stupid sauce, being vegan, and God knows what else! — he raged. I stayed silent, thinking… Can Caine erase things? Did he make me see my mother? Is he making me forget? Is that why everyone says I spend time with him and I don’t remember anything?

— Our names?... — Pomni murmured

— You... Are you erasing my memories? — I asked in a whisper, looking at him in horror

— No, wait a second, enough, enough! — Caine stopped us, flustered — I might have the ability to make minor tweaks to create better adventures, but that’s it; if I did anything else, heh, heh! Believe me, it wouldn’t turn out well — he assured us, but I didn’t know if I should believe him; everything was starting to feel as fragile as my own mind… as unstable as Kinger

— Scratch... the first abstraction... — Kinger whispered with unsettling clarity; Caine automatically grew nervous

— Hold on, hold on! Don’t put words in my mouth! Listen, guys! — he exclaimed, interrupting him — I just want to help you, I... — he fell silent when he saw our angry looks and got even more nervous — Uh... No more questions! — he exclaimed, turning back into a gift basket — Your prize is that basket full of perfumes and soaps! Wash up nice and clean and have a good light! Fragrant! Night! Bye! — and he vanished into thin air, leaving the basket to fall to the floor with a thud. We stood there in absolute silence, not knowing what to say... or what to believe

------------------------------

Hellooooooo [I’m dancing to the little credits music] How crazy, right? HAHAHAHAHAHA, I finally finished this [I just realized it’s the middle of the night...] All on yogurt and cookies [I’d have coffee, but I don’t like it] I admit I like to play with Liora’s feelings...

What did you think? I took my time to add a bunch of secret details :)

Which part did you like best? I liked the therapy session with Caine, HAHAHAHA, I loved that part.

Do you think Lio would have pressed the red or blue button? Personally, I already know the answer, but I didn’t make it too explicit in the chapter and kept it more neutral.

Fun fact: Liora breaking her finger is a symbol you’ll understand later :) + I like that the scene where Liora has that dream about Sylvia is the first happy “Dream” so far + This is the longest chapter with 16,881 words.

Author_Pan, what can I expect for the next chapters? I’d say we’re off to a good start… a very good one cccc: [The spicy stuff I promised is coming]

Anyway, I hope you liked it. Don’t forget to give it a star, comment, and follow me for more updates. Thank you so much for reading. See you on Sunday ✍️(◔◡◔.).

P.S.: Hi, sorry for the delay. I’m in the middle of moving and was without power, so I couldn’t schedule this chapter.

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[Fanfic's Guide] | [Info Fanfic]

[autorapan]

ABH readers

Have you ever wondered what Felix and Rhea’s apartment is really like?

Well, here’s a floor plan of the apartment. I’ll be posting photos of the interior decor soon. I hope you like it:

Initial sketch

2. Final floor plan

P.S.: Liora's is still under construction, F.

From: A Happy Pan

[autorapan]

𝐀 𝐁𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭 - 𝟔.𝟏𝟎.- 𝐈'𝐦 𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞… (part 6.10/?)

𝐉𝐚𝐱

I was thirteen years old. I remember the sun streaming through the window as if that day wanted to give me a little extra warmth. Mom was in the kitchen; the aroma of fresh coffee filled the whole house. She always got up early, especially on my birthdays. I quickly put on my uniform and ran down the stairs.

— Happy birthday, my love — she said, smiling as she handed me a small box wrapped in blue paper. Inside was a simple bracelet made of red strands tied in a bow with a star-shaped charm; it was almost identical to the one I’d given her for her birthday — So that we’ll always find our way back to each other and will always be there for one another no matter what happens — she whispered. I threw myself into her arms, laughing, and she kissed my forehead. — Today I just want you to have a nice day at school, and when you get back — her blue eyes, just like mine, sparkled — We’ll celebrate properly: cake, music, and your favorite flowers.

I nodded excitedly, grabbed my backpack, and ran out... but something made me stop at the door. I don’t know why, maybe a voice inside me. I turned and saw her with her back to me, clearing away the breakfast dishes. I ran back to her and hugged her tightly.

— I love you so much, Mommy — I whispered against her back. She laughed softly as she turned around and stroked my head.

— And I love you, my little girl, more than you can imagine.

It was the last time I hugged her... that day at school was perfect; I laughed, I sang, my friends showered me with paper flowers and crooked drawings with my name on them. Everything was so... simple, so happy, but when I got home, the happiness shattered like glass. There was an ambulance in front of the entrance near the garden where Mom planted her jasmine and lilies. People had gathered, voices were muffled, and there was a stretcher... a person was covered with a white blanket. My gaze fell on her wrist, where a bracelet peeked out from under the fabric, the silver star I had given her myself.

— Mom… — I whispered. I started to run, but strong hands held me back. It was my father, and his face was like stone.

— Don’t look, ____ — he ordered me, but I had already seen it; I had already understood everything in that moment.

My world stopped right there, on the street, amid sirens and the cries of strangers, and though I grew up and kept breathing, something inside me stayed with her, in that embrace I’ll never feel again; the clock in the living room ticks louder now that she’s gone.

Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock.

As if time wanted to remind me that it keeps moving forward, even though I don’t want to move, I’ve stopped counting the days since the funeral; the scent of her clothes is still in the air. Sometimes I sneak into her room just to breathe in that sweet perfume, the one she wore on Sundays, the one she said smelled “like flowers after the rain,” but Dad can’t stand it.

— ____, get out of there — he orders me, his voice sounding harsh, almost empty

— Just one minute more — I reply, pleading

— There’s no “one minute more”; it’s enough — I turn away, clutching the sheet between my fingers

— Enough for who? For you? Or for me? — I asked, but he didn’t answer; he just clenched his jaw and looked at me with that hard stare, the look of a man who doesn’t know how to cry

— Your mother is gone — he says at last — You’re not going to bring her back by staying locked up here.

— I don’t want to bring her back — I lie, feeling the tremor in my voice — I just… I don’t want to forget her. — Dad sighs wearily, as if I were a burden he doesn’t understand.

— You have to, ____, you have to move on; life doesn’t stop.

— What if I do want to stop? — I ask softly, and his brow furrows

— Don’t talk like that. Forget her; she wouldn’t want to see you like this — his voice sounds louder, and my eyes fill with tears

— And what do you know about what she’d want? — my voice cracks — You were never here; you were only here after she was already dead! — Silence, just the insistent ticking of the clock

Tick. Tock.

Dad clenches his fists, but says nothing, and in that silence I feel something else break inside me. I walk over to the cabinet; there’s a photo of Mom smiling, her sun-blonde hair tousled by the wind, with my little arm around her neck. I hold it in my hands, my wrist trembling.

— How am I supposed to live without you, Mom? — I whisper, the words coming out in fits and starts, as if my throat doesn’t want to let them out; the photo trembles between my fingers — I need you to tell me what to do — I speak into the air, into nothingness — You always knew how to fix everything, even when things were broken, but now I don’t know... I don’t know how to go on without you — Dad takes a step toward me, but doesn’t dare get any closer

— You have to grow up, ____ — he says, barely looking at me — She’s gone now, and you can’t live with ghosts — I hear him, but I don’t understand, I don’t want to understand, because if I grow up, if I forget her, if I stop talking to her… then she really will be gone. I press the photo against my chest

— I can’t, Dad — I whisper between sobs — I can’t let her die again — He closes his eyes in resignation and leaves the room without saying another word; I stay there, clinging to his absence, begging for a voice I’ll never hear again

The door closes; the click of the lock sounds louder than any scream, and then the silence returns, that silence that hurts more than any word. I sit on the edge of the bed; dust dances in the light streaming through the window. Everything looks the same, but nothing is. The world kept turning, and I stayed here, trapped in the day she left.

— Mom... — my voice barely comes out — If you can hear me, just... talk to me — I asked... nothing, just the ticking of the clock — I know it sounds silly — I say, laughing half-heartedly — But I need you to tell me what to do, because Dad says I have to move on, that I have to forget you, that life doesn’t stop... but how can I move on if you were the only good part of my life? — I pick up the photo from the dresser again; her smile seems to shine even in the dim light — Look at me, Mom, I’m trying, I’m really trying. I smile when I’m supposed to smile, I pretend to sleep when everyone thinks I’ve given up... but I don’t know how to do it without you — my voice trembles along with my whole body — Sometimes I think that if I talk to you long enough, you’ll answer me, that you’ll say “____, I’m here, my love,” but you don’t, and that’s breaking me — tears blur my vision — Do you know what the worst part is? That Dad says the pain fades with time, but time has only made me feel emptier, more like him, and that scares me, Mom, I don’t want to become someone who no longer feels anything — I look at the ceiling, the walls, the floor...everything seems to be waiting for an answer that never comes — If you’re out there somewhere, could you give me a sign? — I whisper — A breeze, a scent, anything… just tell me you’re still close by — the wind rustles the curtain, and for a moment I swear I smell that perfume of yours, flowers after the rain, and a smile escapes me through my tears — Thank you… — I murmur and close my eyes — I promise not to forget you, even if everyone wants me to; I promise to keep talking to you, even if the world calls me crazy, and if at any point I stop doing so... please, come for me, because that means there will be nothing left of me here — the clock keeps ticking

Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock.

And with every second, I cling tighter to his voice, to his memory, to that part of me that still believes Mom can hear me. They say you get used to absence, that the heart learns to walk with the gaps people leave behind, but it’s not true. You only learn to hide the wound, to breathe without letting the tremor show. Sometimes I think it all started that day, the day my mother didn’t come back, the day my father forced me to erase her name from my lips, to pretend I didn’t hear her when the wind rustled the curtains. Since then, something inside me learned to tremble when someone walked away, and that tremor… never went away.

Maybe that’s why I clung so tightly to Jax, well… Felix... or whatever his real name is, because when I met him, I thought this time would be different, that I wouldn’t have to watch someone else walk away without looking back, but love... love can also feel a lot like a loss. He always had a way of drifting away even when he was right in front of me, that distant look, that smile that never quite reached me, and I, like a fool, would just wait, waiting for him to stay one day, for him not to leave me like everyone else, and when we argued, when he yelled at me until I was trembling with fear, or when he shut himself off in his silence, my mind would go back to that ambulance, to the stretcher where my mother’s lifeless body lay, to that little girl begging for a mother who could no longer hear her.

I think that’s what hurts me the most… that every time he walked away, I no longer saw Felix; I saw my mother disappearing all over again. That’s why I never knew how to let him go, because letting Jax go wasn’t letting go of a love; it was reliving the biggest goodbye of my life, it was losing once again someone who once promised to stay and love me, but nevertheless… sometimes I think it wasn’t him who was abandoning me; it was me who kept waiting at the same door with the same fear, repeating the same mistake, because when you’ve lived with absence for so long, the pain becomes home and the fear of being left alone ends up feeling like love.

🥀💔❤️‍🩹🥀💔❤️‍🩹🥀

Zooble’s room was filled with laughter, whispers, and the sweet smell of snacks spilled on the carpet we’d stolen from the digital carnival. We’d organized a sort of impromptu sleepover with Pomni, Gangle, and Ragatha, all gathered among pillows and blankets that barely covered half the floor, though it was also to keep an eye on Zooble so she wouldn’t do anything crazy while she’s still in that state, and there I was, sitting against the wall, watching everything in silence.

It wasn't that I didn't want to participate, but there was a weight on my chest that seemed to take my breath away every time I thought of him, Jax. I remembered his ironic smile, his cutting words, and that specific moment etched in my memory. the necklace he’d given me and how he’d said it meant nothing, that it was just a trinket. Remembering it made me cringe a little inside, feeling like all the hopes I’d had were shattering into a thousand pieces.

Around me, the others seemed carefree. Zooble, with the stupid sauce still smeared on their eye, was laughing for no reason, making comments that sometimes didn’t even make sense. They looked at me and said something about how the clouds were actually cotton candy that dragons hid in their wings. I couldn’t help but sigh and roll my eyes, but a small smile escaped me at her comment; seeing Zooble like that, completely out of it and happy, was something that only happened once in a lifetime.

— I think I should take a picture of him for the memories — I whispered to myself in a voice so soft it seemed to get lost among the group’s laughter. I reached into the pocket of my skirt… or well, I don’t know where I actually put my hand, but I always pulled my instant camera out of my skirt like a cartoon character, but when my finger brushed against the fabric, I found it empty. I frowned and searched more carefully, even among the crumpled blankets on the floor, but nothing. — Where is it? — I asked in a low voice, trying not to disrupt the cheerful atmosphere too much. Pomni, who was leaning against the wall, looked at me with shining eyes, a mixture of sadness and resignation on her face.

— Liora, Jax... he stole it when you weren’t looking; he wanted... take a picture with me — The comment made me frown even more; a chill ran down my spine. It wasn’t a minor detail; it was proof that Jax always found a way to meddle where he shouldn’t, to appear in my memories even when he wasn’t physically present. I looked back at Pomni and remembered her argument with Jax and how he made her believe they were friends… Great.

I nodded silently; there were no words that could console that feeling. I knew exactly how she felt, the betrayal of someone you trust, the sensation that your emotions become playthings for another person. I curled up a little more against the wall, trying to create an invisible barrier between me and the mixture of laughter, stupid salsa, and memories floating in the room.

Zooble kept mumbling incoherently; Ragatha and Gangle chatted among themselves, unaware of the weight now hanging on my shoulders. I felt my breathing grow heavier; the air in the room seemed to be thick with memories I didn’t want to relive, moments with Jax that still burned in my memory.

— I’m going to rest a bit — I finally said, getting up — I need… to go to my room — the group looked at me, and Ragatha nodded, understanding without needing words. Zooble, with their eyes half-closed and still dazed, raised a hand absentmindedly and said something incomprehensible that drew a couple of soft laughs from them. I smiled slightly, though sadly, because even in their state, Zooble seemed impossible to hurt; that lightheartedness contrasted with the weight I carried, and it cruelly reminded me that I could no longer afford to lose myself in fantasy or illusions. — See you tomorrow — I added, trying to keep my voice steady even as I felt it cracking inside.

Pomni looked at me with understanding; her mouth opened slightly as if she wanted to say something, but in the end she just nodded. Gangle murmured, “Rest well” while Ragatha stood up to move some pillows closer to the wall. I walked toward the door with slow steps, each movement reminding me of how fragile I could be. Inside me, the mix of memories with Jax and the relief of having distanced myself burned at the same time; every step was a reminder that I was moving toward something I didn’t know if it would be less painful, but at least it was mine.

I left Zooble’s room without even looking back. The air outside felt colder, denser, as if the entire hallway had turned against me, even though it was all just digital. My heart raced when I saw him there, Jax, with that expression somewhere between regret and nervousness, as if he were searching for words that didn’t exist.

— Liora... — he began in a low, almost trembling voice — I wanted to tell you something.

— No — I cut him off in a tone I didn’t recognize in myself; my voice was both harsh and firm — Not this time, Jax, I’m not going to stay silent again — I saw him open his mouth, but I didn’t give him a chance; something inside me snapped, and everything I’d kept bottled up for so long rose like fire to my throat — This time there’s no going back — I spat, feeling my chest heave with adrenaline — I’ve suffered enough with you! I suffered with you in the real world, and now here, trapped in this place. No more, Jax! — He took a step toward me, holding out his hands as if he could calm me with a gesture.

— Liora, I just... — he tried to speak, but it was clear that this time I was the one who was going to speak

— No! — I shouted at him, feeling my voice crack at the end — I won’t let you hurt us again. You’ve already hurt Ragatha, Gangle, and now Pomni. You made her believe you were friends, Jax. Friends! And you hurt me too... — Jax tried to grab me by the shoulders; that touch, that attempt at control he always made, was the final straw. I pushed him away with both hands, and my fists, though not very strong, landed on his chest again and again in an attempt to push him away. — Enough, Jax! Enough is enough! — I hit him as tears clouded my eyes — You don’t understand how much it hurt, how much it still hurts!

He didn’t defend himself, didn’t even move to avoid it; he just stood there taking my blows as if he knew he owed me every single one, while still holding onto my shoulders. In a clumsy struggle on my part, we both ended up falling to the floor. The impact knocked the wind out of me, and I lay on top of him, breathing in gasps, my fists still trembling against his chest..... and then something happened that I never wanted to happen; the tears came without me being able to hold them back. I cried in front of him for the first time in so long; I cried with everything I had left.

— Lio... — he whispered, resting his hand on my cheek; hearing my name come from his lips and feeling his touch only broke me further

— Jax... — my voice came out broken — Do you... do you love me? — I asked; the silence was louder than any answer. I looked at his face, his eyes wide open, but no words came out, nothing. The emptiness between us became unbearable. I swallowed, trembling, feeling how every second broke me further and realizing how foolish I’d been all this time. I slowly pulled away, standing up with my hands still shaking. — That’s enough for me, — I murmured in a hollow voice, almost a sigh.

Without looking at him again, I turned and headed toward my room. Every step that took me away from him hurt as if something were being torn from my chest, but I kept walking. There was nothing left to say. The air was so thick I struggled to stay calm. I felt his gaze fixed on me, but even so, Jax followed me

— I can’t take it anymore, Liora — his voice came out shaky. I stopped dead in my tracks and looked at him, raising an eyebrow in disbelief, as if I were hearing a language I didn’t understand

— What are you talking about now, Jax? — I asked. He laughed, but it was a broken laugh. He ran a hand through his hair in desperation, and that was when I saw Jax without his mask of toughness

— About you, about me, about everything I never told you before you left home — I felt the urge to look away, to protect myself, but I couldn’t; his eyes held me, and in them was a sea of things I didn’t want to see — I swear I tried not to feel anything anymore — he continued, taking a step toward me — I tried to distance myself, to be cold, to be cruel... Because I thought it was for the best, because I thought I didn’t deserve you after everything I did and said to you, but you know what? — He pounded his own chest. — I can’t, I can’t get you out of my head. — I took half a step back; it was as if the ground had suddenly shifted beneath my feet. He took another step closer.

— Jax… no — I warned, he laughed again, but this time with shining, moist eyes

— I fell in love with you, Liora, you know it, I fell in love like a damn fool, I fell in love with your laugh, your eyes, the way you see the world, and I hate it, I hate it because you make me feel vulnerable… but it’s also the only thing keeping me alive — Silence fell over us. My mouth opened, but no words came out. I had never seen Jax like this again since that day, without masks, without sarcasm. It was like looking at an open wound. He took another step, standing right in front of me, so close I could feel his breath. — I don’t care if you hate me now. I don’t care if you think it’s too late. ....I had to tell you, because I love you, Liora, and I’m breaking inside

I didn’t have time to react; his trembling hands rested on my cheeks and he kissed me, not with violence or arrogance as he used to, but with a desperate tenderness that paralyzed me, a kiss that carried years of silence and unfulfilled promises, I felt his lips again; my whole body froze, my heart pounding with absurd force. For a second, I didn’t know if this was real or if the circus was playing a cruel new trick on me. When the air returned to my lungs, reality hit me like a slap in the face.

— What... what did you just do? — I whispered, bringing my fingers to my lips as if I wanted to erase the trace of that moment. Jax didn’t answer; his gaze sought refuge in me and couldn’t find it. An impulse born of fear and rage made me push him back. — You can’t do that! — I shouted at him, my voice breaking. — Not after everything that’s happened… not after what you made me feel — He lowered his head, breathing raggedly, unable to say a word. I took another step back because every inch of closeness was dangerous; he would lie to me again, swearing he’d change. — I’m not your escape, Jax — I said through held-back tears — I’m not a moment you can kiss when you can’t take it anymore

The silence was a thick wall; part of me wanted to run, while the other part, the part that still accepted his crumbs and his false words, stayed there, with tears burning my eyes. I turned on my heel, determined to lock myself in my room before I broke any further.

— Liora, wait! — I heard his voice behind me. I didn’t stop, but he caught up to me; his hand on my wrist made me tremble.

— Let me go, Jax — I murmured, my eyes clouded over. He let go of me but didn’t step back.

— It wasn’t an impulse, it wasn’t a mistake. I kissed you because I’ve been keeping my feelings bottled up for too long — his voice broke again as he confessed what he’d been hiding for years. I looked him in the eyes; his mask was shattered, his vulnerability exposed like an indecent secret. — You don’t understand… — he continued — Even before this damn circus trapped us, before I spoke to you for the first time at the station, it was already you. You’ve always been and will always be you, and I’ve been a coward — My heart gave a painful lurch. I wanted to hate him, but his honesty disarmed me

— And you expect that to erase everything? — I asked, barely a whisper

— No — he said firmly — I don’t expect you to forgive me now, or tomorrow, I just… I couldn’t go on without telling you. I’d rather you reject me outright than keep hiding this — silence fell again, and my chest still ached

— I don’t know if I can believe you — I whispered — But I can’t hate you completely either — I saw his eyes light up slightly; he took a step and stopped, holding back the urge to embrace me

— That’s enough for me — he murmured. I lowered my gaze, unable to meet his intensity; part of me wanted to run away, another part wanted to stay, yet when he tried to take my hand, I pulled it away without looking him in the eyes. He tried again; I looked up, and my fingers, almost without meaning to, gently closed around his, a slight, uncertain squeeze, but enough to say, “It’s okay, I’m still here.”

He opened his eyes in surprise, a broken smile of silent relief on his face. I looked down; perhaps I was making a mistake, but I didn’t run away. In that gesture there was a truce, a respite, and also a new beginning that I didn’t dare name.

What are you doing, ____?

This is just like before... my breath caught in my throat. Once again, I’m forgiving him; once again, he’s poisoning me with the words I always wanted to hear; once again, I’m going to suffer; once again, he’ll imprison me; once again, I’ll accept every crumb, every tiny bit of attention from him.

I looked at him with eyes full of questions and felt my chest tighten; my breath was ragged, his gaze fixed on me as if he could stop me just by wishing it, and then I smiled, a small, broken, almost invisible smile that carried the full weight of what I was about to do. Inside I was trembling; on the outside I had to appear firm; I had to cut everything off at the root.

— Felix..... — my voice barely came out, and even so I felt how each syllable broke before reaching him — Our relationship..... has to end, we’re done — I swallowed hard as I let go of his hand and took a few steps back; the words tasted like iron. I saw him shake his head silently, his hands trembling. Every fiber of my being wanted to backtrack, run into his arms, tell him it was a lie, but I couldn’t. I knew that if I stayed, this time it would be worse — It’ll just... it’ll just end up breaking me again — I continued, almost in a whisper — If at any point... I disappear... you must move on and forget me

Saying that to him felt like tearing my own skin off. I looked him straight in the eyes and saw how each word fell on him like a stone: “Forget me.” I couldn’t do it myself, but I had to give him that way out even if it cost me everything. It’s only a matter of time; I know it. If I stay with him, there will be no turning back, and everyone will get hurt because of me. I’ve thought about it a thousand times before: if one day he escaped this hell and met someone else, I had to love her as I loved him, so he wouldn’t get trapped in this cycle of pain that surrounded us.

— And if you ever manage to escape this circus... and you meet someone else — my gaze locked onto his — You must love her as I love you, Jax — I felt my voice tremble; it was a plea and a condemnation at the same time. The weight of my words crushed me, but I couldn’t take them back. I saw him bite his lip, wanting to say something, and I knew I had to finish before he made me doubt myself

So I did the only thing left for me to do; I took his hand and brought it to my cheek. The touch burned me, made me tremble, but it also anchored me to that moment. I needed to feel him one last time; every laugh, every stolen kiss, every dawn we spent together came flooding back to me. I brought his other hand to my other cheek, and there, between his palms for a second, I felt the world stop. Just him and me, nothing else, an immense silence despite the noise around us. His fingers were trembling, mine too, and in that trembling, everything we were was written. I took a deep breath; I didn’t want to cry. I had to tell him, even if it was too late, even if it didn’t matter anymore.

— I've been waiting... for you to say those two beautiful words, Jax — I whispered — That “I love you” but... it’s too late for us — as I said it, a part of me collapsed; “Too late” was the cruelest word I could utter, but also the most honest. I saw in his face the pain I myself felt on my porcelain skin; my fingers tensed over his, wanting to memorize it, to etch it into my skin

I looked at his face, his ears, every curve of his mouth, the shadow under his eyes; I wanted to keep it all. I felt his warm hands even though they were inside his gloves, and I forced myself to etch every second as if it were the last photograph of us, because it was. I let out one last sigh and looked at him again. I tried to smile once more; it was a broken, painful smile, but the only one I had left, the only way to say goodbye without words.

Then I forced myself to let him go, I walked slowly past him, as if my feet weighed tons; with every step I felt like I was leaving a piece of myself behind, I walked away, taking with me everything we could never get back. The circus around us kept shining, ridiculous, full of noise, but to me it was just a distant echo; all that existed in that moment was him, his gaze, his silence, and this goodbye that would haunt me just as much as it would haunt him.

I slammed my bedroom door harder than I intended; the thud echoed in my chest. My hands were shaking; I could barely breathe. The air came in gasps, as if every breath were a struggle. I let myself fall against the wood, sliding until I was sitting on the floor, my knees drawn up to my chest. I covered my face with both hands, letting it all out; the tears burst forth without restraint, silent at first, then loud with sobs that cut through my throat.

I felt as though something inside me had broken free, as if a deep, ancient root had been torn out; it was relief and pain at the same time, relief because I had finally said “enough” because I was no longer trapped in that cycle, pain because even knowing everything, I had wanted to believe his words.

Deep down inside me, that naive Liora still existed, the one who thought Jax could change, that if I loved him enough, he would learn not to destroy everything he touched, that somehow that spark between us would be enough to dispel all the shadows—but no, today I had seen it clearly: he wouldn’t change, and I couldn’t keep waiting. I buried my forehead in my knees, breathing in short gasps, the sobs shaking me to my core. Every memory, every glance, every word whispered during endless nights came back like blades, and yet, in the midst of the pain, something felt different, a kind of new space in my chest—painful but clean.

— It's over... — I whispered, almost voiceless — It's over

It was an ending for him, but also for me, an ending that hurt like losing a part of my body, but one that was necessary so I could breathe again. Maybe tomorrow or in a month, that wound would begin to heal, not today, today all that was left was to cry until I was empty. I curled up tighter, letting the tears run their course; between each sob, my breath came out broken, but it was no longer the breath of someone drowning—it was the breath of someone who, though with a heart in pieces, is beginning to let go.

------------------------

🗣️🔊¡Preso! De la cárcel de tus besos

Come on! My little girl has finally stopped being a breadcrumb, long live Liora, HAHAHA, BrittlerBunny is officially dead, I’m going down with the ship like a good captain, and I’ll wait for the day I rise again from the depths 

Fun fact: Did you know that Jax was 19 when he first saw Liora, and they didn’t speak until six months later? Yes, Jax watched her for six months [CRAZY]. They started their relationship six months after meeting, and in theory, they’ve been together for almost three years, not counting the time they’ve been trapped in the circus [Yes, their relationship just ends in this chapter] + Liora’s birthday was two weeks after her miscarriage...+ It’s the first time Jax says “I love you” to Liora.

Extra fact: Did you know that in the other alternate ending, Liora’s reaction to the kiss is different? Instead of screaming, she cries, cries, and forgives Jax....

Liora: Con los ojos cerrados, iré tras de él, Con los ojos cerrados, siempre lo amaré, Con los ojos cerrados, yo confío en él, Con los ojos cerrados, yo le quiero creer ¡Le voy a creer!

Thank you all so much for reading. Don’t forget to comment, click the heart, and follow me for more updates. I hope you liked it. See you on Wednesday ლ(╹◡╹ლ)

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[Fanfic's Guide] | [Info Fanfic]

[autorapan]

𝐀 𝐁𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭 - 𝟔.𝟗.- 𝐃𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐦𝐞! (part 6.9/?)

𝐉𝐚𝐱

I saw her come back from ballet class, her face flushed from the exertion and her eyes dull and tired; I couldn’t help but feel a chill run through me. Seeing her so exhausted and vulnerable made me want to wrap her in my arms so that nothing else could touch her.

— ____ — I softened my voice more than usual, trying to persuade her — Are you okay? Shouldn’t you rest a little longer? — She looked at me with those eyes that used to challenge me these days, but now were heavy with fatigue; she lowered her head as if the strength she always displayed had suddenly drained away

— I’m fine, Felix..... — she murmured, barely audible

— No, you’re not fine — I insisted, moving closer to her — And you know I don’t want you to push yourself so hard; it’s your health.....your recovery.....and I can’t stand seeing you put yourself at risk like this

— Felix... — she sighed, letting out a hint of resignation — I... I understand... — my heart raced at hearing that; I noticed how she let her guard down, how the resistance she always had seemed to fade; I saw her nod slowly, and a lump formed in my throat

— So... maybe today you should just rest — I said gently but firmly — I can make something to eat, and... we can stay here, quietly, together

She barely managed to stammer a “yes” exhausted and too weak to argue; her gaze was lost, her spirit weary from so many arguments, from so many boundaries she no longer knew how to maintain. I felt a part of me was victorious, even though I knew I’d crossed the line. It didn’t matter; I would protect her and take care of her, even if that meant manipulating her a little to keep her safe. I moved closer and hugged her gently; her arms automatically wrapped around my torso, and for a moment I knew she would give in… not out of love, not entirely, but out of exhaustion.

— It's okay, ____ — I whispered as I held her — Let's just stay here where nothing can hurt you — she sighed against my chest, and though her eyes showed weariness and a hint of sadness, I could feel how little by little she was surrendering to the safety I offered her. My heart tightened, knowing that I wouldn't back down from the line I had already completely crossed

Two weeks later, the door opened and ____ walked into the apartment as if she were floating; her face glowed with excitement, and for a second I felt my whole world reeling with joy for her

— Felix! — she exclaimed without even taking off her jacket — They gave me the lead role in Swan Lake.....The lead role! — her eyes sparkled and her hands trembled with excitement — It was.....it was my mom’s dream.....and finally.....I did it, I’ll fulfill my dream!

I felt a blow to my chest, a cold burning sensation running through my body. I remembered those days when we had just met and she told me, full of excitement, about her dream of performing in that theater far from the city where her mother had never been able to perform. Every instinct in me screamed that I had to stop her, that she couldn’t go, that she shouldn’t take the risk, that I couldn’t bear to see her far away from me.

— No.....you shouldn’t do it — I said, trying to make my voice sound firm, but unable to hide the tremor — That.....that’s too much, ____, you can’t go to another city, not like this, not now..... — she looked at me in disbelief with those eyes that usually melted me, and that look broke me a little more

— What? How can you tell me I can’t go? — her voice trembled with a mix of surprise and frustration — You know this is everything I’ve worked for over the years! My mom’s dream! My chance!

— I don’t care! — I shouted, letting anger and fear mix together — I don’t want you to go, ____, I don’t want you to take risks, I don’t want... I don’t. — The argument escalated, words and shouts crashing like violent waves; I couldn’t contain my fear, my need to protect her at all costs, even though I knew I was being selfish

— Felix, you can’t decide for me! — her voice was firm — You can’t take this away from me!

I felt the tension envelop me; I saw her so alive, so determined, and yet she terrified me. I wanted to cup her face in my hands, make her listen to me, but she dodged me, stepping back. I remembered the night I didn’t recognize her and hurt her. Rhea came out of the kitchen, stepping in before anything else broke.

— Hey, hey, hey! — she shouted, pushing us apart with her hands — Calm down, both of you, breathe. No one’s going to get hurt, okay? — I sighed, letting my rage mix with guilt, and looked at ___. Her gaze was still ablaze with the thrill of her achievement. I knew that no matter how much I wanted to protect her, I was losing the battle against her own dream

— Just... think it through, ____... — I murmured, my voice breaking — I don’t want anything to happen to you...

She ignored me and shot me a look that pierced right through me. I knew there was no way to stop her this time, and for the first time I understood that my stubbornness couldn’t protect her from her own dreams, even though my heart bled just thinking about it. Rhea sighed, placing a hand on my shoulder.

— Felix.....just breathe, little by little you’ll understand. She.....she’s strong — I nodded, though inside I was shattered. My ____, my light, she was going to fulfill her dream..... and I couldn’t do anything to stop it. ____ locked herself in our room, leaving the room plunged into a silence that burned my chest. The sound of the slam echoed in my ears as I breathed heavily, trying not to lose my mind completely. Rhea stood in front of me with that stern look that always made me feel small despite my rage.

— Calm down, Felix — she said in a firm voice — Breathe. You can’t do anything until ____ and you calm down

— I can’t calm down! — I growled, taking a step back — She’s moving to another city, Rhea! She doesn’t understand what she’s risking! She doesn’t understand that I don’t want to lose her! — Rhea let out a sigh heavy with patience and exasperation

— Felix... don’t be like Charlotte’s idiot ex — she warned, frowning. — Don’t be the guy who controls everything around him until it all falls apart. — That made my blood boil; my fists clenched and my voice rose as I couldn’t hold back.

— You don’t understand! I… I don’t want to lose her, Rhea! Not like you did with Ray! — I blurted out, letting the name spill out with all my pent-up rage — You let him go… and now I can’t let the same thing happen to me with ____ —  Rhea looked at me as if I’d stabbed her right in the chest; her jaw tensed, and the calm she always seemed to have suddenly shattered

— What? — she exploded, her voice echoing louder than mine — Don’t drag him into this! I won’t let you use that as an excuse for your own selfishness! — Before I could reply, she turned on her heel and left, leaving the room in a silence heavier than any previous argument. My shoulders were shaking, my breathing was ragged, and anger mingled with guilt

I stood there, alone, staring at the door through which Rhea had walked out, and I knew I’d gone too far, that my fears and jealousy had turned me into someone I didn’t even recognize myself… and that now ____ had locked me out of her world, and Rhea had left me alone with my demons.

— Damn it… — I whispered, staring at my father’s reflection instead of my own in the mirror; I kicked one of the chairs. — Damn it all…

✉️🥀✉️🥀✉️🥀✉️

I woke with a start, expecting to feel ____ curled up beside me, but all I found was the cold emptiness of the bed; my heart skipped a beat as I immediately feared the worst.

— ____… — I called out in a whisper, trying not to let my voice sound so shaky, but I was already trembling. — Where are you?

I jumped out of bed and started searching for her all over the apartment; every room I checked tightened the knot in my chest, and my breathing grew shorter and faster. The bathroom was empty, the kitchen too... until I finally found something on the dining room table, a note. My hands trembled as I picked it up and read her words.

“I can’t take it anymore, Felix… I’m leaving. I have to follow my dreams. I’m sorry…”

The world crumbled around me; the words seemed to scratch at my soul. I knelt in front of the table, clutching the note as if letting go meant losing her forever.

— No... Don’t leave me! — I said in a whisper, and my throat closed up completely. I tried to call her, searching for her name on my phone, but my desperation made me remember that I hadn’t heard from Rhea either

— Rhea... — my voice broke — Where are you? — Silence answered my calls, fear took hold of me, that feeling of emptiness that makes you feel as if everything you love is slipping out of your reach; every second that passed without ____ appearing tore a piece from my heart — Please... come back.....you said you’d never leave me

There was no answer, only the echo of my own voice, my own fear, and the painful certainty that this time, perhaps, I couldn’t fix it with a hug or hurried words.

The day had come, “Swan Lake” the moment ____ had waited for her whole life… and I was here, in the living room with the TV on, unable to take my eyes off the screen, my heart racing a mile a minute, a mix of pride and a fear that burned inside me. I knew the story; ____ always told it with that sparkle that’s all her own.

When that melody played, my throat tightened, knowing who would appear in that instant. Then I saw her, ____, perfect, elegant... just as she had always dreamed of being, but now without me by her side. My chest tightened with a stabbing pain I couldn’t ignore; I felt something break inside me.

I knew it was wrong; I knew that ____ didn’t need my words at that moment to shine, I knew it… but I couldn’t help it; the thought that she might give it her all, shine, and leave me behind was killing me. I took a deep breath, feeling the guilt like a knot in my stomach, but I couldn’t look away from the screen. Every gesture she made, every pirouette, every movement reminded me of what I had lost… or what I might lose if I didn’t say what she had always hoped to hear from me.

And as she spun across the stage, bathed in light, I typed, praying those words would be enough to stop something I didn’t even have the right to control.

“I love you... I don’t want to lose you...”

Those were the first words I wrote. I knew I was acting out of fear, out of obsession, but seeing her there, radiant and distant, made me forget everything else. I just wanted her to know that I was here, that I would always be... even I was sick, even if it was dangerous, the time when she was supposed to appear as Odile arrived, and I was waiting in front of the TV, holding my breath. I expected to see ____ glide across the stage as she always did, but... she didn’t show up.

A strange sense of relief settled in my chest, mixed with a stabbing pain I couldn’t ignore. For a moment, I wanted to believe she’d decided to stay, that she’d given up her dreams for me, for us... but the absence of her figure on stage reminded me that something was breaking inside me.

The next day there was still no sign of her, neither at the matinee performance, nor in messages, nor in calls. Two days passed in a silence that was slowly killing me; fear and guilt intertwined, slowly crushing me. It was then, when I could no longer bear the uncertainty, that the news hit me like a punch straight to the stomach. That day I was in front of the TV when, among so many headlines, it appeared.

“Promising ballet dancer missing”

The world seemed to stop; I felt like I couldn’t breathe, like everything around me was blurring. My heart was pounding wildly as my mind tried to process the impossible, my ____..... missing. Fear paralyzed me; every second that passed without knowing where she was or what had happened to her consumed me, and in the midst of that chaos, guilt devoured me. I knew that my behavior, my need for control, my jealousy, and my obsession... everything had contributed to driving her away.

I got up, staggering, trying to think, to react, but there was nothing I could do; all that remained was emptiness, pain, and the echo of her absence, and I... I couldn’t stop repeating her name in a whisper over and over like a desperate mantra.

— ____.....____.....____

I couldn’t stay still; every second that passed without her burned me from the inside. Without thinking, I went straight to the place where I’d agreed to meet her in the message I’d sent her, that old abandoned building that always seemed darker than I remembered. The wind blowing through the broken windows made my skin crawl, but I didn’t stop. Every step was a mix of fear and urgency. I called her name several times; my voice bounced off the empty walls, but all I got was the echo of my own desperation.

I made my way through dusty hallways, creaking steps beneath my feet; everything was silent, too silent. That’s when I caught a glimpse of it out of the corner of my eye—it was her cell phone, lying on the floor in the middle of a strange room, barely lit by the light seeping through a broken window. I picked it up with trembling hands and, without thinking, unlocked it. the screen displayed a photo that made my blood run cold. ____ was standing there in her Odile costume with a virtual reality headset on her head; her expression was serene, almost happy, as if she were in another world, completely oblivious to everything that had happened outside.

My heart skipped a beat and a lump formed in my throat; rage, despair, guilt... everything swirled together as I watched her in that photo. Why didn’t she finish her performance? Why didn’t she tell me anything? Where was she really, and what was she doing?

I took a deep breath, trying to calm myself, but the certainty that I couldn’t let her go on alone sent a chill down my spine. I had to find her, and I had to do it now. I don’t know how I ended up following my own impulse, but before I knew it, I had the virtual reality goggles on. Darkness enveloped me for a moment, and then… everything changed. I opened my eyes and froze at the sight of so many colors and lights.

Present

The circus was still alive in the distance, with laughter coming from Zooble’s room that seemed to mock me. I had been left in the darkness of the hallway, sitting outside Zooble’s room with the necklace in the palm of my hand. My fingers traced it slowly, as if it still held Liora’s warmth. The necklace was cold, but each link burned me as if they were embers.

I remembered her last words before she shot herself: “This ends here, Jax…” Those words sent a chill down my spine; she’d done it again… The first time was that night in the kitchen, and now she was shooting herself as if she truly expected to die. Her eyes looked at me with determination, as if she wanted to etch my face into her memory before disappearing forever. I looked back at the necklace.

— Trinket…? — I repeated in a whisper, clenching my jaw. I covered my face with my other hand, hating myself for having said it.

The silence brought me back to my senses. I remembered the day I got it on that adventure with Caine. I’d taken it without thinking too much about it, but it wasn’t the object that mattered; it was the way I gave it to her, like someone offering a piece of themselves without admitting it, because that’s what it was. I gave her that necklace as a promise that everything would be different, without jealousy, possession, manipulation, shouting... ...without tears.

“A trinket” I said at that moment; the lie was still on my tongue. I really wanted to change, to be the same person she met on the subway, the same one who needed help from her best friend to make everything go smoothly. Those two were always smarter; Ribbit recognized me the very day I arrived here and warned me that Liora didn’t need any more pain in her life because of me.

I thought Liora didn’t know who I really was, but the way she looked at me, how her eyes lit up when she saw me and she smiled, making everything else fade away, that sparkle that defined her even though she looked different, her halo, her dress, Liora looked like a Christmas decoration, identical to the porcelain angels she bought every year..... because they were all so fragile they’d break by accident. 

— You were never that — I whispered, closing my eyes, remembering Liora’s face once more, her words — You were never insignificant, Lio… it was I who didn’t know how to give you anything more than breadcrumbs

When she looked at me for the last time after the awards, for a moment I thought about following her, shouting the truth at her, begging her to come back, but my feet remained rooted to the ground as if the weight of my own pride had chained me there.

I never wanted to walk away, but when she drifted off... the only thing I thought that day was, “If I stay close to her... she’ll end up just like Ribbit” and Kaufmo met that same fate. I distanced myself because of the guilt I felt, because that day I couldn’t protect her and she ended up hurt.

I tucked the necklace into my pocket, not as the trinket I’d told Liora it was, but as a keepsake of the one thing I’d ever dared to tell her. I got up from the floor to lock myself in my room, but Zooble’s door opened behind me. I didn’t want to turn around, knowing she was there; I didn’t want to see her and keep feeling sorry for myself… but I did. I turned and looked at her.

— Liora...

-------------------------

Heyyyy, how was the chapter? Pretty intense, huh? HAHAHAHA, I like the fact that Jax knows the whole story of “Swan Lake” thanks to Liora, and in fact, he also knows all the different endings.

Fun fact: Liora’s favorite ending in “Swan Lake” is the one by the “Royal Ballet” [This one]. Well, in that ending, Odette declares her death and throws herself off the cliff; Siegfried wakes up after the blow he took, gets up, and goes to look for Odette; that’s when he finds a maiden with her face; Odette was no longer a swan; Odette’s courage and her love for Siegfried broke the spell, saving all the swan maidens, even though it cost Odette her own life. Siegfried walks toward the audience with Odette in his arms while Odette’s spirit appears in the background, swearing eternal love to Siegfried forever, despite everything that happened between them.

Anyway, I hope you liked it. Don’t forget to click the heart, comment, and follow me for more updates. Thank you so much for reading. See you on Sunday ✍️(◔◡◔).

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[autorapan]

Fanfic's Update!

Hi, Autora_Pan here. 💌 There will be a few last-minute changes because, if I don’t make them, everything will probably end up going wrong (:

— First, I want to clarify that Accidental Proximity will be postponed until A Bound Hearth is finished.

— The same goes for On Promises and Ice. It was scheduled for release in September, but it will most likely be delayed until October or November.

— For a While will start in July. This is because I want to analyze Ribbit more thoroughly to build a stronger story. The storyline will not change, but I will make corrections if necessary. Also, I’ll be posting the synopsis and the release dates for the first 3 chapters soon.

I’m sorry to have to delay several projects, but I’m currently still working on publishing Accidental Proximity on my Wattpad account. The fanfic has gone on longer than expected, but we’re nearing the end.

I’m also juggling my studies, university assignments, the updates, and translating each chapter into English. I should clarify that my English isn’t as good as I’d like it to be, so I use translation tools for support, but I always double-check to make sure everything is coherent and well-written.

I apologize again and hope you have a nice morning, afternoon, or evening. 💖 Thank you so much to everyone who reads A Bound Heart, it makes me very happy.

[autorapan]

𝐀 𝐁𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭 - 𝟔.𝟖.- 𝐇𝐞𝐥𝐩 𝐦𝐞… (part 6.8/?)

𝐉𝐚𝐱

The morning started off quietly; the sun streamed through the window, lighting up the kitchen, while the aroma of freshly baked sweet bread filled the air. Rhea was in high spirits, holding a huge bag of treats her mother had prepared.

— Good morning, Turtles! — she shouted as if announcing a festival — My mom says it’s impossible to start the day off on the wrong foot with this — ____ smiled a little weakly but excited by the smell; I watched her, happy to see her enjoying the sweet bread, though a lump formed in my throat for no apparent reason..... Then it happened. A sudden, sharp, stabbing pain made her double over; her face paled instantly, and I felt myself freeze.

— ____! — I shouted, running toward her. — What’s wrong?

— Felix… — she whispered, her voice trembling and breaking. — It hurts… it hurts a lot… — Rhea reacted immediately, carefully supporting ____ while I searched for the car keys. The drive to the hospital felt like an eternity; every traffic light, every curve was a blow to my anxiety. My hands were sweating, and I couldn’t stop looking at her to make sure she was breathing, that she was alive

Hours after waiting for any news about ____, the world exploded in my face. The nurse, in a voice that seemed unreal, told me what I had already feared... ____ had had a miscarriage. The cause was her malnutrition, the price her body was paying for dancing every day as if she had no limits. I felt such a deep emptiness that I thought I couldn’t breathe.

— It can’t be… it can’t be — I murmured, feeling as though I might collapse to the floor at any moment — It can’t be real…

— Felix... snap out of it, breathe. We need you to be strong, not lost. — Rhea placed her hand on my shoulder, pulling me out of my daze. There was no other choice. I stood up, trembling, and entered the room where ____ was lying down. Her face was pale, her eyes filled with tears. She looked at me and immediately lowered her head.

— I-I...it's my fault — she whispered with a broken voice — I shouldn't have eaten so little, I should have taken the vitamins...I'm sorry...I'm really sorry, Felix

— Don't say that — I interrupted her, a lump in my throat — This isn't your fault, none of this is...

But she looked at me with such an intense mix of guilt and pain that I felt as if a part of me were tearing apart. I moved closer to her, holding her against me, while Rhea watched us with her arms crossed and a serious expression, without saying a word.

— I'm sorry... — she murmured between sobs

— I’m here… — I whispered, trying to stay calm even though my hands were shaking. — You’re not alone, ____, not yesterday, not today… not ever. — She clung to me, trembling, letting me absorb her fear and pain, silently promising me that no matter what happened, I would never let her carry a burden like this alone.

The room was silent, broken only by ____’s sobs and the feeling that, for a moment, everything had stopped. I could only think of what might have been and of… my Sylvia.

A few minutes passed, and the tension in the room was unbearable. ____ was still clinging to me while her father stood in front of us with his arms crossed and his jaw set. I didn’t know when he had arrived; I’d only heard the door slam open. I felt his gaze burning into her, and a chill ran down my spine.

— ____! — his voice exploded suddenly — How could you!? You’re only twenty, and now this! — he demanded. ____ shrank back, lowering her gaze, her hands trembling.

— Dad… I… I didn’t want this to happen… — she whispered nervously.

— You didn’t?! — he shouted, slamming his fist down on the table — You always have excuses, you always do whatever you want, and I wasn’t even here to stop you from making your own mistakes! — My instinct kicked in immediately; I stood up and stepped between them. My heart was racing, but I couldn’t let him attack her like that

— Enough! — I shouted, my voice firmer than I felt — I won’t let you talk to her like that right now. Get out of here — her father looked at me in surprise, then his gaze shifted back to ____ behind me, and then back to me

— Excuse me? — her father shot me a glare — Who’s there is my daughter! She’s in the hospital! What were the two of you thinking?! How did you plan to take care of a baby when you can’t even take care of yourselves?!

— You have no right to comment, sir — I took a step forward, frowning. — Can’t you see how fragile ____ is right now? She’s already suffered enough without you coming here to yell at her! — Her father swallowed hard, but his anger didn’t subside.

— Dad, stop... — ____’s voice trembled; I turned to look at her, worried — Why did you come? I’m not dead like Mom for you to suddenly start worrying about me

My chest tightened as I listened to her; her pain pierced me. Her words were true. She had told me before that he had never been there for her, and now that he had returned, he was leaving her vulnerable, even more so after what happened with Sylvia.

— ____..... — Her father stepped forward, but I stepped in again, and ____ frowned

— No, I’ve waited for you for years. I’ve always forgiven you because I thought that, deep down, you cared at least a little. If you were waiting to see me in my final moments to repent, well... Surprise! I’m still alive, and I want you out of here, out of my life... please... don’t make things any harder.

For a moment, the room fell silent, filled only with the three of us breathing heavily. I pressed my lips together, aware that the storm wasn’t over, but I was determined not to let him go. Two nurses rushed in and firmly grabbed him by both arms.

— Sir, you need to calm down — said one of them. — We’re going to get you out of here before someone gets hurt.

— No, she doesn’t understand anything! — he roared, struggling a little, but the nurses led him toward the door; every step he took felt like an earthquake. I moved closer to ____, and she grabbed my arm, trying to hold back her tears.

— Felix... — she whispered, clinging tighter, her tears streaming down her cheeks — I... I just want to go home... please

The drive back in the car was silent, except for the engine and the shifting gears, ____ was sitting in the back, her gaze lost among the buildings, as if trying to escape something she couldn’t name. Her fingers played with the hem of her jacket, and every so often she sighed for no apparent reason. Seeing her like that made me feel sick. I wanted to say something, to do something, but I didn’t know how to reach her without breaking the fragile bubble she seemed to have taken refuge in.

— So… So what do we do now? — Rhea asked from the front seat, breaking the silence. Her voice was calm, but there was tension beneath her tone, as if she, too, were weighing every word.

— I don’t know — I replied, giving ____ one last look — We have to make sure she’s okay… that neither of us sinks deeper into this.

— I can stay there with you, or you can come with me. Give her space, food, water... then we’ll figure something out, something to help her feel at ease — I glanced sideways at ____; her lips were trembling slightly, and the sparkle in her eyes had faded. I wanted to hug her or tell her she didn’t have to carry this burden alone, that I was there, that no one else could hurt her, not even for a second.

— We have to be patient — I finally said, my voice a little firmer than I felt — We can’t rush her or force her to talk, but we’ll be there.....always

— Yeah, but we can’t just sit around forever; we have to think about day-to-day things, Felix, food, rest, vitamins, her meds, everything. This isn’t going to get resolved just with nice words —  I nodded, a lump in my throat; I just wanted to disappear and get my thoughts in order, but I also felt like I couldn’t leave her side for a second

— We'll handle it — I whispered, more to myself than to anyone else

And while ____ remained lost in her own world, I felt I had to be her anchor, her refuge, because if I didn’t, I didn’t know who else could. When I opened the apartment door, ____ barely moved; her steps were slow, almost shuffling, and I felt a stab of fear pierce my chest. I followed her carefully, making sure not to bump into her, I didn’t want to scare her any more than she already was. Rhea had already left a small bag of fruit and water on the kitchen table with that meticulous orderliness she had when she wanted to help without saying a word. I saw her sigh and look at me with that mix of patience and warning she always carried.

— If you want, you can sit down for a while — I said softly to ____, pointing to the sofa. — I... I can stay here with you.

She slumped onto the sofa, curling up into a ball, and didn’t look at me. I could feel the chill of her body, the trembling of her hands in her lap. I sat down beside her without invading her space, just so she’d know I was there. My heart was beating too fast, but it wasn’t out of fear, it was because of her.

— I'll make some tea — Rhea said, breaking the silence. I nodded and leaned slightly toward ____, barely brushing her arm. She didn't say anything, but she didn't pull away... that was enough for me

— ____..... — I began, my voice trembling more than I wanted to admit — You don’t have to carry this burden alone. I... I’m here, always

She took a deep breath, and for a second it looked like she was going to speak, but she just stared at the floor. Her lips were trembling, and then she simply rested her head on my shoulder, a small, fragile gesture, but one full of trust.

— Thank you — she whispered, barely audibly — I don’t know what I’d do without you

I didn’t say anything; I just wrapped an arm around her and held her. I felt her breathing gradually calm down, and as I held her, I realized something important: I couldn’t fix everything all at once; I could only be there day by day, breathing with her, holding her, and making sure she knew she wasn’t alone.

Rhea came back with the tea, set the cup on the table, and shot me a look that said, “Do it right, idiot". I nodded without taking my eyes off ____; I didn’t need words to promise myself I would.

Because if she trusted me like that, even though she was broken and lost, I couldn’t let her down again.

The following days felt strange, as if time were trapped in limbo between what we had lost and what we still had left. ____ barely spoke, but every little gesture of hers kept me on edge; every sigh, every lost gaze, was a reminder of how fragile she was, and I couldn’t let anything or anyone hurt her again. Getting her to take her vitamins had become a never-ending struggle.

Rhea practically moved into the house temporarily; she slept on the couch next to Donatello, making sure ____ didn’t do anything crazy at night... again, and she made sure she ate something when I wasn’t there. Rhea would sometimes look at me with that mix of reproach and patience when she saw me following ___ everywhere, but she didn’t say anything; she understood that for me it wasn’t just about protecting her, it was. . . needing her to be okay so I could breathe.

— Felix... — Rhea said one day while I was making dinner; she was leaning against the counter — Bit by bit, ____ is getting back that shine that characterizes her — she whispered, watching ____ cut some vegetables

— Shine? — I asked in a whisper, my voice dry, almost hoarse; I needed sleep — Don’t you see she’s still dull? Every time I blink, I feel like she might disappear or do something that…

— Yeah, I dunno… — Rhea crossed her arms — I can see a little shine in her eyes; that’s good…

I watched her then, carefully chopping a stalk of celery; her hair fell over her shoulders, and her eyes… those eyes were still afraid, but there was something else, a glimmer of life trying to return. I wanted to get closer, and I did so slowly, placing my hand on her lower back. She didn’t say anything at first; she just let me touch her.

— ____..... — I whispered — I won’t let anything hurt you, not again — I promised

— I know — she finally said, looking at me with the faintest of smiles — Thank you for not letting me go

I felt a weight lift, but a new fear also grew, the fear of losing her..... That’s why every time she left the room, every time she approached the window, every time she was alone for a second, I felt compelled to be closer, to shield her with my presence. Rhea gave me an amused look one day as I tucked the blanket around her before she fell asleep.

— Felix.....Don’t you think you’re being a little too protective?

— There’s no such thing as “too much” — I replied firmly, watching ____ sleep — After what happened, every second she’s safe and alive is too precious to let slip away

Rhea just smiled and shook her head as if she knew she couldn’t do anything to change me, and deep down, I didn’t want her to either. ____ was slowly regaining that shine that made her unique, and I was willing to fight with everything I had to make sure she remained herself… with me by her side, even if that meant being a controlling clown, an obsessive guardian... anything but losing her.

When ____ announced she wanted to return to the ballet conservatory, I felt a chill run down my spine. I knew she needed to move, to feel her body alive, to return to the routine she loved so much.....but I also knew the risks, her body was still weak, her energy levels low, and my instinct screamed that I couldn’t leave her alone for even a second.

— Are you sure about this? — I asked, trying to make my voice sound casual even though the tension betrayed me

— Yes, Felix... I need to do this — she replied with that calmness that always characterized her, but that I couldn’t fully accept. From the very first day she returned, I didn’t leave her side for a moment. I accompanied her to the conservatory and waited outside until she was done. Whenever I heard the exercises getting too demanding, I didn’t hesitate to remind her of every break she needed to take, that she shouldn’t overexert herself.

I became her shadow, her constant watchman. Every jump, every turn, every stretch was a reason to remind her that she had to take care of herself, that she couldn’t push herself. Even when she told me she was fine, I saw beyond that, the subtle signs of fatigue, of pain, of hunger… and I couldn’t ignore them.

— Felix... you’re suffocating me — she whispered one day as she gently pushed me away

— I don’t care — I replied, my voice tense — I’d rather suffocate you than lose you

Every day, every class, every second that ____ put on her ballet shoes, I felt I had to be there, watching over her, correcting her, protecting her... until my concern became almost overbearing, because after everything we’d been through, I couldn’t let anything or anyone harm the most precious thing I had: Her.

Every time ____ mentioned going to the conservatory, I felt that tightness in my chest all over again; I couldn’t help it. I knew my reaction wasn’t fair, that I was crossing the line, but the thought of losing her made me lose my mind.

— ____.....Do you really have to go today? — I asked, trying to sound calm even though my voice was tightening

— Yes, Felix.....I just want to practice a little — she replied with the same firmness as always. I took a deep breath, trying not to let panic take over, but my instincts were betraying me; every word, every gesture of hers put me on high alert

— Look, it’s not that I don’t trust you, but..... — I began, searching for the perfect excuse to keep her here — What if you get tired? What if you hurt yourself again? I don’t want to go through that again — she looked at me with shining eyes, trying to ignore my comment

— Felix... I’m not a danger to myself anymore. I know how to take care of myself, — she assured me, but I couldn’t accept that. My thoughts were spinning in circles: “If something happens again, I couldn’t forgive myself. I can’t lose her... not her.”

— ____, listen... — I insisted, lowering my voice so it sounded like advice — Maybe it would be better if you rested a little at home. I can help you train here, do some light exercises... — My tone was soft, persuasive, aware of the manipulation I was using — It would be safer, and we could spend time together — She noticed and frowned slightly

— Felix... Do you really think I’m going to give up something I love just because of your fear? — she asked. My heart pounded, and for a second guilt washed over me. I knew I was manipulating her decisions, that I was crossing an emotional line, but the idea that someone else, that the world could take her away from me... I couldn’t bear that

— I know... I know it’s not right — I admitted, my voice breaking — But I can’t help it. I can’t imagine my life without you, ____. I don’t want to lose you, not you — she looked at me, searching for any sign of a lie, of manipulation. I couldn’t lie; it was an internal conflict, a mix of love, fear, and possessiveness

— Felix... — she finally said softly — We have to trust each other, even if that means sometimes you don’t like what I do

I swallowed hard, my heart in turmoil. I knew I had to learn to let go, even though every fiber of my being screamed not to. Still, I held her close, breathing in her scent, clinging to her, because even if I was wrong, even if I knew my methods were overbearing, I couldn’t imagine a world where I wasn’t there, close by, protecting her..... even even if it meant losing her freedom, I couldn’t let her go. Every time I thought of her returning to ballet, my chest tightened and my stomach knotted up. I knew I was being manipulative, but I couldn’t help it, not this time, not after everything we’d been through and lost.

— Felix... — Rhea’s serious, firm voice snapped me out of my thoughts one day — You have to let her breathe; you can’t suffocate her like this — she advised me. I looked at her, trying not to let her see the fear running through me

— No... you don’t understand. If she stays at the conservatory... if she pushes herself too hard... she could get hurt again. I can’t let that happen — I excused myself. Rhea frowned and crossed her arms.

— She's strong, Felix, stronger than you think. You can't protect her from everything, and you have no right to decide for her — I felt a pang of guilt, but anger and fear still overwhelmed me; I couldn't listen to reason. Every word Rhea spoke seemed like a reminder that life could snatch her away from me at any moment, just as it had done with my Sylvia

— I know… I know it’s not right — I whispered, my voice tense — But I can’t just sit idly by; I simply can’t… I just want her to be safe… and close to me

____ She looked at me from the couch with that mix of love and frustration that always made me feel small and enormous at the same time. I took a deep breath, trying to calm down, but every fiber of my being told me I couldn’t leave her alone for another minute.

— I don’t want you to take any risks — I insisted, almost pleading, as I approached her carefully — Please, trust me — Rhea shot me a warning glance, and I knew I was crossing another line, but I couldn’t stop myself, not when my fear of losing her felt so real and so urgent

— Felix... — she whispered, her voice trembling — Let me... let me try — she begged me. My heart broke a little, but I kept holding on to her, stubborn, unyielding, determined to protect her even if it meant fighting against everything and everyone, because there was no way I was letting her go, ever. Rhea wouldn’t give up; her gaze was firm, her arms crossed like a wall I couldn’t break through

— You don’t understand — I raised my voice louder than I intended — I can’t let her get hurt. We almost… we almost lost her once, Rhea. I’m not going to… I can’t take that risk — She let out a sigh and walked toward me calmly, almost like a teacher trying to correct a stubborn student

— Felix, you’re crossing the line. This isn’t care anymore; it’s fear disguised as control. She needs to go back to ballet; she needs to move; she needs to live — she placed her hands on my shoulders. Anger and guilt swirled inside me. I knew it; I felt it. Every attempt I made to hold her back, every argument, every manipulation was wrong, and yet…

— I know, I know it’s wrong — I whispered, lowering my gaze for a second — But I can’t leave her alone, I can’t let her put herself at risk again..... — Rhea raised an eyebrow, looking at me as if trying to pierce through my fear with her gaze

— And you know what else? — she said in a low but firm voice — What you’re doing… this isn’t protecting her; it’s pushing her away from you little by little, and if you keep this up… you’ll end up pushing her out of your life, Felix — my fingers trembling as ____’s gaze pierced through me from the sofa, I saw her looking uncertain, sad, but also full of that silent strength that always left me breathless, her dependence on me mingled with her need for freedom, and I… I wanted to protect her from everything, including herself and me

— I can’t... — I denied it in a whisper — I can’t let her get hurt again... — Rhea looked at me as if I were a stubborn child

She went back to ballet that afternoon; I watched her put her shoes in her bag while she typed something on her phone. Everything seemed so normal… so much a part of her, and I couldn’t stand it. Every step she took out of my reach was a reminder that I couldn’t protect her from anything.

— Felix, breathe — I whispered to myself as I watched her from the kitchen — Just let her go... — I remembered Rhea’s words, but I couldn’t; my feet carried me toward her before I could stop myself — ____, wait — I said, trying to sound casual — Don’t you think it would be better if you got some rest? I mean... after everything that happened, maybe... — She looked at me, knowing exactly what I was trying to do, that I didn’t want her to go to rehearsal. She knew it, and yet she said nothing. My heart raced; every second she wasn’t by my side, I felt danger lurking around her

— Felix... — her soft voice stopped me for a moment — I’m fine, really — she assured me, stroking my arm. I wanted to believe her, but my fear was stronger than reason

— Yeah, sure... — I replied with a forced smile — But what if something happens? I don’t want you to push yourself too hard...

Her patience and calm irritated and moved me at the same time. I knew what I was doing wasn’t right; I knew my fear had turned me into a sort of jailer disguised as a concerned boyfriend, but I couldn’t stop… not today.

Every day I found myself looking for reasons, excuses, little manipulations—reminding her that she needed to rest, that she could get sick, that maybe the rehearsal wasn’t that urgent. Every time I gave in, I felt a momentary relief, but at the same time a weight on my chest. I was losing the battle against my own fear, and yet I still couldn’t let her go.

I saw her come out of the conservatory with her hair tied back and her face still glowing from the effort. I tried to steady my breathing, but my chest still felt tight; every step she took, beyond my control, hurt me.

— ____ — I whispered as we were walking down the stairs toward the subway. I tried to sound calm. — Can we talk for a moment?

— Sure... What’s up? — she asked, turning to look at me

— It's just... I don't want you to go back to ballet so often — I tried to soften my words, but it sounded more like an order than advice

— What? — she stopped, frowning slightly — But I... listen, I know I tried to do something crazy before, but I swear I'm fine now

— Yeah, I know... I know you’re okay now — I replied quickly — But I don’t want you to push yourself too hard, to get discouraged... for something to happen to you. You know that... I just can’t bear it — I tried to explain. ____ sighed, crossing her arms

— Felix... this can’t be just about you anymore. I can’t stay home all the time; I have to keep pursuing my dreams, even if you’re afraid of that. — My stomach clenched at her words, but I couldn’t stop trying to keep her close and safe.

— I know, — I whispered, more to myself than to her — But I can’t help worrying… ____, I don’t like it every time I see you walking away…

— Felix, I-I love you, but this... this can’t work if you lock me away — her eyes sparkled when she saw me, and I felt my heart break and tighten at the same time; I hugged her, burying my face in her neck

— I just... I just want you to be safe — I whispered weakly; I felt something snap when she didn’t hug me back

— I know you want to protect me… but not like this, Felix. I can’t live in fear — she pulled away without looking at me and kept walking down the stairs, leaving me standing there with the feeling that every attempt to look out for her was only pushing me further away from her

And as I watched her walk away, with every step she took moving her further from me, I knew this would be a long winter filled with arguments, manipulation, and fear, but that under no circumstances could I let her leave my side, because she’s mine.

The following week I saw her walk into the apartment with her purse; her face reflected pride, satisfaction... and a bit of defiance. Every time she did that, my chest tightened. I couldn’t stand seeing her in that world without me; it terrified me.

— ____ — I called out, trying to sound casual, but my voice betrayed my urgency — Are you done yet? Are you going again tomorrow?

— Yes, Felix... So what? — she raised an eyebrow

— Nothing, nothing... it’s just that... — I paused for a moment, trying to find the right words — I don’t want you to push yourself too hard, you know... your health, your recovery... all that

— Felix, I’m fine — she replied with a faint smile, but with that spark of independence that irritated me — I don’t need you controlling me all the time

— It’s not control, ____,.....it’s care — I took a step closer — Every time you go to those classes, I feel like something might happen to you — she sighed wearily

— Felix... I can’t live cooped up; I can’t let your fear dictate my life — that comment burned inside me; I knew I had to act, that I had to keep her safe even if that meant being a little pushy, a little overbearing

— Then let’s set some limits — I said firmly, trying to sound convincing — Just a few classes a week, nothing extreme, just enough so you can continue your recovery without risk

— Felix! — she exclaimed, clearly annoyed — This isn’t your decision; I can decide how much I can handle and how far I’ll go — I felt my heart ache, but I couldn’t back down

— I know, ____, but I… I can’t just stand by and watch you put yourself at risk — my voice trembled, revealing all the fear I was trying to hide — I can’t let you get hurt again

She looked at me as if she wanted to tear me apart with her gaze, and for a moment I hesitated. I knew what I was doing wasn’t right, that my obsession was bordering on manipulation, but my heart screamed that I had to keep her close, that I had to protect her, that I had to be there for her even if she hated me for it.

— If you keep this up... — she murmured, lowering her voice with a mix of anger and sadness — You’ll end up pushing me away, Felix — my chest tightened; I couldn’t let that happen

— Never... — I whispered, more to myself than to her — I’ll never let you go, ____

And as I watched her walk away toward our room, I knew that every argument, every boundary, every attempt at control would only drag us into a long and complicated winter... but in my mind, there was no other option; I had to protect her, even if the price was our peace.

------------------------

All good things must come to an end, right? It was time to get off the carousel. HAHAHAHAHA, I’m throwing tomatoes at myself and I’m not paying for therapy.

Fact: I don’t think I ever explained why Liora shot herself in Chapter 6. Aside from it being symbolic of Liora’s death while tied to Jax, it was also the peak of her su*c*d*l thoughts. Yes, I think I made it pretty clear in chapters prior to 6 that she was already showing signs of that… Crazy, isn’t it?

Extra fact: The fact that Jax sounds like a broken record in these chapters is on purpose... I’m going crazy over this fanfic.

Anyway, I hope you liked it. I love you all so much <3. Don’t forget to hit the heart, comment, and follow me. Thank you so much for reading. See you on Wednesday (⁠っ⁠.⁠❛⁠ ⁠ᴗ⁠ ⁠❛⁠.⁠)⁠っ

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[autorapan]

𝐀 𝐁𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭 - 𝟔.𝟕.- 𝐌𝐲...𝐒𝐲𝐥𝐯𝐢𝐚 (part 6.7/?)

𝐉𝐚𝐱

I thought that after that morning everything had calmed down. Days went by, and even though we weren’t the perfect couple, it seemed like we were holding each other up; we were dependent on each other, yes… too dependent, like two people clinging to a fraying rope but refusing to let go because they think they’ll fall. I knew it, she knew it, and yet there we were. I thought things were going to get better; I thought the calm meant something, but I was wrong.

The living room of my apartment was silent when I walked in. I was exhausted after coming home from work, forcing a half-smile to break the tension.  ____ was sitting on the couch with her fingers intertwined and her gaze lost on the floor... something wasn’t right.

— What's up with you? — I asked, raising an eyebrow and trying to sound casual. She swallowed, her lips trembling slightly, and took a breath as if her throat weighed a ton.

— Felix... I’m pregnant — she confessed. I felt as if I’d been punched in the stomach; all the air left me, and my smile vanished instantly

— Wh-what did you say?— I stammered, and immediately my tone turned harsh and defensive. — No... don’t fuck with me, ____. We can’t even handle ourselves, and now you come at me with... this! — I shouted, agitated. She clenched her fists, tears already in her eyes.

— I didn’t plan this, Felix… I… What am I going to do now? — I started pacing in circles around the room, my hands in my hair, breathing heavily the way I do when I feel cornered

— Damn it, ____. Do you realize what this means? I don’t know how to be a father! I barely know how to be your fucking boyfriend, and you?! You have an absent father and a dead mother. How do you think this kid is going to grow up?! — I yelled. Her crying cut through me like a knife.

— I’m scared… forgive me Felix, I’m so sorry — her voice trembled as she curled up on the couch. I stopped dead in my tracks; in that moment I realized the reflection I was seeing, me yelling at her again, scaring her again, and this time she was carrying something more than just her own life. I approached slowly, barely breathing, knelt down in front of her, and my hands trembled as I cupped her face

— Hey.....look at me — I asked, lowering my voice — I.....I don’t want you to go through this alone. Do you hear me? I don’t know how the hell I’m going to do this, but.....I’m not going to leave you — I whispered. Her eyes searched for something in me, a spark that I was being honest

— Really? — she asked in that tiny voice that broke my heart

— Really — I repeated, trying to sound firm — I can’t promise I’ll be perfect, because you know exactly how messed up I am, but you’re mine, ____, and that baby... — I looked away for a second before looking back at her — That baby is mine too

She leaned in and rested her forehead on my shoulder as she kept crying. I pulled her close to my chest with a force that was a mix of fear, anger, and that pure love I never know how to express. As I held her, my head screamed a single phrase: “You’re going to ruin everything, just like always.” And yet I kept promising myself I wouldn’t let her go.

You could already feel it in the air. Rhea isn’t at all as dumb as she always makes herself out to be. She’d been noticing the tension between ____ and me, the fleeting glances, the silences, and now she was there with us in the kitchen with that damn notebook she never let go of, waiting for someone to tell her the inevitable. I was leaning against the wall with my arms crossed, feeling my heart racing. I couldn’t stop thinking that all of this was going to explode at any moment… and it did.

— Rhea… I need to tell you something important — ____ called out, her voice still fragile. I closed my eyes, clenching my jaw

— Tell me, what's wrong? — She looked up, calm as always, but with a flicker of intrigue

— I'm pregnant — she confessed again. The sharp thud of the notebook hitting the floor made me open my eyes. Rhea was staring at us as if she'd just seen a ghost, first at her and then at me

— What...?! Tell me it’s a joke, she whispered with a wry smile

— It’s not — ____ denied nervously. I took a deep breath, feeling the blood rush to my face; I knew what was coming

— What the hell were you thinking! — Rhea suddenly yelled at me — You know perfectly well how things are between you two! You can barely go a damn week without arguing. And now... now there’s a baby in the middle of it all! — I felt my whole body tense up; my first reaction was the same as always: to strike before I was struck

— Shut up, Rhea! — I ordered, though my voice was shaking — You have no idea what we’re going through

— I have a better idea than you do! — she advanced toward me with clenched fists and that pent-up fury I rarely saw in her — I've seen you yell at her, I've seen her cry because of you. Do you really think you're going to be able to take care of a child when you can't even take care of her? — Her words hit me right where it hurt the most. I wanted to say something, but the words wouldn't come out. Rhea grabbed the collar of my shirt roughly.

— Rhea, no! — ____ grabbed her arm fearfully — Please don’t fight; we can talk this out calmly — her broken voice pierced me; I looked down, feeling like a child caught doing something unforgivable; Rhea’s gaze softened when she saw me, but that warning was still etched in her eyes

— ____, you deserve better than to carry this fear — she whispered, letting go of me and gently hugging ____

— I don’t want you to fight… please — she pleaded through her tears. Rhea stroked her back comfortingly, but the look she shot me over her shoulder told me everything: “If you hurt her, I’ll destroy you.”

I looked away, unable to hold her gaze. My hands were clenched, my knuckles white, and I had a lump in my throat that I didn’t know was anger, fear, or shame. I felt cornered again, and yet, in some corner of my mind, I could think of nothing but her and that baby.

You could cut the tension with a knife; everything reeked of pent-up rage and fear. ____ walked into my room, ready to lock herself in. I heard her slam the door shut with a sharp click, and that sound felt like a knife in my stomach. Rhea was still in the kitchen, leaning against the table with her arms crossed, staring at me as if I were a failed experiment. I paced back and forth muttering curses, trying not to think about the look of fear in ____’s eyes.

— What the hell do you plan to do, Felix? — Rhea asked, breaking the silence.

— What do you think I’m going to do? — I snapped, almost spitting out the words. — It’s obvious I’m going to stay with her. — Rhea glared at me.

— Stay with her? Like when you left her crying all night and showed up the next day as if nothing had happened? Like when you can’t control your damn impulses and scare her? That’s not “staying” that’s destroying her piece by piece.

— You don’t know anything about how I feel about her— I defended myself, frowning.

— Of course I do! — She slammed her open palm on the table, and the sound made me jump. — I know you want her in a unhealthy, possessive way, but want isn't enough, Felix. This isn't just about you and her anymore... There's a life at stake, a life that didn't ask for any of this, and a child won't solve your problems. — Her words pierced me; I clenched my fists as I turned my face away so I wouldn't have to look at her.

— So what do you want me to do, then? Abandon her? — I asked; the mere idea terrified me. Rhea stepped closer until she was standing right in front of me.

— No, I want you to grow up, to stop acting like a scared idiot who only knows how to scream or run away. If you’re going to be with her through this, you have to be someone she can trust… not someone who drags her down even further — she replied, lowering her voice

I felt like I couldn’t breathe; every word stuck in my chest as if it had been branded there with fire. I wanted to say something, to defend myself, anything to lift that weight off me, but I couldn’t. Rhea walked toward her room.

— If you fail her this time, Felix... I swear I won’t forgive you — she whispered. The door closed behind her, and the silence swallowed me whole. I stood in the middle of the kitchen with my thoughts colliding, and for the first time in a long while, I felt the true weight of my decisions, not like a cloud I could ignore, but like a slab crushing my chest

I leaned against the wall, my hands still trembling. I knew she was right. I knew that if I didn’t change now, I could lose her forever. The silence was slowly killing me; it was a thick echo, as if every corner were repeating Rhea’s words: “If you fail her this time…” I sank to the floor and buried my face in my hands.

— What if I fail her again? — I murmured softly, barely recognizing my own voice — What if I don’t know how to do it?

The look on ____’s face came to mind, fragile yet firm. I’d seen her cry a thousand times, swallow her words so as not to lose me, and now she was in my room just like before, but with a new life growing inside her… and I knew it was partly my fault. For the first time, I didn’t think about running away or making up excuses. I jumped to my feet and walked toward her room with a lump in my throat. The door was ajar. I hesitated for a few seconds, took a deep breath, and pushed it open gently. There she was... sitting on my bed, hugging her knees, her eyes red from crying so much. When she saw me come in, she looked away, as if she feared another argument. I approached slowly, my hands trembling

She looked at me in surprise; there was mistrust in her eyes, but also that tiny spark of hope that tore me apart. I didn’t give her time to say anything; I leaned in and hugged her tightly, my heart racing, as if I feared she might vanish in my arms. At first she remained stiff, but eventually she gave in and rested her forehead on my shoulder, letting out a sob.

— Don’t let me go — she murmured in a broken voice. I gently kissed her face and closed my eyes, burying my face in her hair.

— Never again — I replied in a barely audible whisper. There, in that embrace filled with fear, regret, and a love I never knew how to handle, I felt that this time everything could be different if I dared not to let her go. When she finally fell asleep still clinging to me, I realized that tonight we weren’t alone

❤️‍🩹🥀❤️‍🩹🥀❤️‍🩹🥀❤️‍🩹

When ____ turned two months old, I could hardly believe this was happening. Sometimes she catches me staring at her for too long; I try to memorize every detail of her face as if it were the first time I’d seen her. Every time she moves, I feel a flutter in my chest. It’s strange… it’s fear, it’s love, it’s responsibility, all mixed together in a whirlwind I don’t know how to handle.

I watch her walk through the kitchen with her hand resting on her tiny belly, and I can’t help but feel a chill. She looked so small, so fragile… and at the same time so strong. I walk up to her without thinking, letting my hand rest gently on hers. She smiled slightly when she saw me.

— I don’t need you watching over me all the time, Felix — she murmured with a weary smile

— It’s not that... — I murmured barely audibly — It’s just... it’s your first time being... you know, and... I... I don’t know, I just want to make sure you’re okay

She looks at me with those eyes that always seem to forgive me everything. Sometimes I feel like I don’t deserve for her to look at me that way, and yet she does. The days feel strange to me; I’m afraid of doing something wrong, of saying something inappropriate, of forgetting that she’s carrying our life inside her. Every time she throws up, I feel useless. I wish I could take all that discomfort and put it on my shoulders, even though I know it’s impossible.

Sometimes I watch her sleep and stay there, watching her most of the night, thinking about what life will be like in a few months. I try to imagine what her laughter will be like with our child, how we’ll walk together down the street... and suddenly all the fear turns into something different, into an urge to protect her, to hold her, to never let her fall.

And yes, there are also moments when I lose my patience; my natural clumsiness amplifies when I feel I can’t do anything to ease her distress. I get frustrated, I blame myself, but then she looks at me with such tenderness and my heart melts; it’s impossible not to love her more every day. I try to be more patient, to measure my words, not to yell or run around like I usually do when life scares me. I’m learning to be her support, even though my hands still shake and my voice trembles.

📦📋📦📋📦📋📦

Moving into ____’s apartment was… weird and nice at the same time. I never thought that living with someone other than Rhea would be something I could enjoy so much and yet find so terrifying. With every box I moved, I felt like I was building more than just a physical place; I was building a home, a safe space for her...and for our baby. She moved calmly, organizing things here and there, while I couldn’t help but stand there watching how focused she was, how she put some things away with such care. It was impossible not to smile; every so often she’d shoot me an amused look.

— Are you going to stand there all day, or are you going to help me? — she asked, and I just nodded a little awkwardly as I picked up a random box.

The day of the first checkup arrived. As soon as we walked into the office, I felt a knot in my stomach, not for myself, not entirely... but for her, for what she was carrying inside, for everything that was at stake. I watched her sit on the exam table with her hands on her belly, and I couldn’t help but place mine on top of hers, squeezing gently with nervousness.

— Take it easy, Felix — she said with a shy smile — Everything’s going to be fine

— Yeah, yeah... — I stammered as my heart felt like it was about to burst out of my chest — I know... it’s just... I don’t want anything bad to happen to her

When the doctor started the ultrasound, I felt like I couldn’t breathe. Seeing that image on the screen, that tiny dot that was already our child, made me shudder with fear and joy at the same time. I could hear the heartbeat, fast and steady, and I automatically leaned in, resting my head next to hers.

— It's... it's incredible — I whispered, almost voiceless. She smiled at me, and her eyes had that sparkle that completely disarmed me.

— See, everything's fine, Felix — she whispered back. I nodded, squeezing her hand even tighter.

We were in the apartment, ____ sitting on the couch with her feet on my lap, and I was going over the papers from the doctor’s office again and again. We finally knew the gender of our baby… a girl. Every time I read “female” I felt something in my chest open up, and fear mingled with absolute happiness.

— Are you sure you want Rhea to find out now? — she asked, tucking her hair behind her ear, a gesture that always drove me crazy

— Yes, of course — I replied, trying to sound confident while my heart was beating too fast — She’s going to be so... happy, and I need to share this with someone who really understands — it wasn't long before we heard a knock at the door, three precise taps, and then the expectant silence that only Rhea knows how to create. I opened the door, and there she was, as always, with that expression somewhere between curious and sassy

— What's this I sense in the air? — she asked, walking in without even waiting for an invitation — You already know the baby's gender and you're not telling me? — ____ laughed a little shyly. I walked over to her and put my arm around her shoulders

— Yes, Rhea... — I replied, trying to sound firm and excited at the same time — It’s... it’s a girl — I confessed. Rhea stood still for a second, as if the news had pierced her heart, and then she suddenly smiled, jumping up almost like a child

— A girl! I can’t believe it! — she exclaimed, gently hitting my arm in a clumsy, joyful hug — We’re going to spoil her so, so much… — ____ laughed even harder, covering her mouth, and I watched her, fascinated; the happiness on her face drew an uncontrollable smile from me

— Calm down, Rhea — she said, still laughing — She hasn’t been born yet.

— That doesn’t matter! — she replied, crossing her arms as she tried to contain her enthusiasm without much success — I’m going to buy her every toy, every dress, and...! — I watched her smiling, then looked down at ____, who was caressing her already rounded three-month belly

— Our daughter is going to have an amazing aunt — I whispered, enjoying Rhea's excitement. She glanced at us sideways and then leaned in, resting a hand on my shoulder

— You seem ready for this, Felix, just... don't scare her too much, okay? — she said with her typical mix of teasing and concern

— I'll try not to ruin it — I murmured, my voice heavy with emotion and a little fear — But if she turns out a bit like me... I think we'll need all your patience

Rhea burst out laughing, and ____ rested her head on my chest. In that moment, as I watched her smile and listened to Rhea’s excitement, I felt that all the fear and uncertainty of the first few months of pregnancy were worth every second. Rhea stayed silent for a moment, watching us with eyes sparkling with curiosity, then, with that mischievous smile that always slips out, she spoke.

— So... do you have a name yet? — she asked, resting her hands on her hips like a detective about to interrogate me. ____ gave me a shy look before answering

— Yes... Sylvia, like my mother — I felt a lump in my chest as I heard her say it, as if a little piece of her heart were already there, mingling with ours. Rhea’s smile widened suddenly

— Sylvia! — she exclaimed, repeating the name — I like it, I like it a lot, but... What about the middle name? We could name her Daisy, so I can sing “Daisy Bell” to her while I lull her to sleep — she suggested. ____ raised an eyebrow, crossing her arms over her belly, and shook her head, amused yet firm at the same time

— No, no... that song gives me the creeps, no matter how sweet the lyrics are — I laughed in disbelief, and she gave me a playful nudge

— Really? — I asked, surprised — But you love horror

— Yeah, but that... I don’t know, it’s different — she replied, shrugging — I don’t want my daughter to be scared by that just yet — Rhea burst out laughing, raising her hands in surrender

— Okay, okay... but then promise you’ll let me sing her any other silly song when the time comes — she said with that mix of amusement and pride I always see when she talks about us or the baby; I watched ____ smile amusedly

— Promised — ____ agreed with a small smile. Without wasting a second, Rhea began listing names as if she were making a shopping list

— Okay, okay, if it’s not Daisy… we could name her… hmm… “Gummy”, I like “Gummy”! — she exclaimed, pointing into the air with a finger as if it were already decided. ____ rolled her eyes and shot me a look that said, “Are you listening to her?”

— Rhea — she said in a warning tone — No, there’s no way she’s going to be called “Gummy”

— Why not? — I asked, stifling a laugh — It’s original and easy to remember

— Because… it sounds ridiculous, Felix — she crossed her arms, though she couldn’t hide the smile playing on her lips — No one’s going to be called that! — Rhea shrugged, looking innocent

— Well, then we can come up with a top three list of names: number two, “Sock”; number three… “Popcorn”, yes, “Popcorn”

— Rhea — I gave him a warning look while ____ laughed uncontrollably — Stop it, please

— No, no, wait — she said, raising a finger with an air of authority — I have a right to an opinion! I’m Sylvia’s official aunt! — ____ nudged me and muttered something that sounded like “don’t be mean to her”

— I promise, I’m just laughing a little, but this is going to be fun when she grows up — I whispered back to her

— Fun... — Rhea repeated with a mischievous smile — Yeah, yeah, yeah... I’m going to fill her head with silly songs and ridiculous names until she says “enough” and the two of you won’t be able to stop me — she blurted out, amused. I couldn’t help but laugh as I watched ____ look at me, still amused but calm

— Yes, she’s going to drive us crazy — I whispered, running a hand through my hair. Rhea jumped up again 

— Done! She’ll be called “Sylvia Gummy Popcorn Bell”! — she declared, then flopped down on the couch, laughing like a child — I’m already ready to be the coolest aunt in the world

I watched ____ smile as she stroked my hand, and I knew that even if chaos followed us wherever we went, in the end it didn’t matter, as long as we had Rhea’s laughter to remind us that the best part of this was just beginning.

When Rhea finally left the apartment, I looked at ____ sitting on the couch with her legs crossed, reading a book. She looked tired and radiant at the same time. She’d been preparing this for weeks; ever since she told me the story of her mother’s music box one night, I knew I had to give her back even a tiny bit of what she’d lost. I knew she blamed herself for breaking it, that it was a painful memory for her, and I also knew that every time she talked about her mom, she’d lower her gaze and bite her lip.

— Close your eyes — I asked, taking a few steps closer. She looked at me with those arched eyebrows that both scared me and made me want to laugh at the same time

— What are you up to, Felix? — she asked curiously, setting her book aside

— Close your eyes, ____ — I insisted. She looked at me suspiciously for a few seconds. When she closed her eyes, I stepped forward and knelt down in front of her. Her fingers moved nervously as she breathed more slowly. I took out the little box and placed it carefully in her hands

— You can look now — I whispered. ____ opened her eyes and looked at the little box; it was made of light wood with small engravings of moons and stars, almost identical to the one she had described to me that time.

— Felix..... — she whispered, a lump in her throat — How did you...? — I shifted so I could see her clearly.

— I looked for it for a few weeks and then had it made. I... wanted to give it back to you, ____ — She turned the key with trembling hands, and the music began to play. I watched as her lips parted slightly, and her eyes filled with tears

— It’s the same one... — she whispered, her voice breaking — The same one

— Don’t blame yourself anymore — I whispered, taking her hands — You were a child when you broke it; no one can blame you for being hurt. I know this won’t erase the past, but maybe it’ll help it hurt less — ____ took a deep breath, and for the first time in months, I saw her cry again, but this time it wasn’t from sadness; it was the exact opposite

— Thank you, Felix... thank you — she murmured between sobs, showing me that smile that had long belonged to me. That night, I couldn’t stop hearing the melody from the little box... and that night, ____ slept on my chest again

-------------------------

Heyyyy, pretty intense, huh? But I already mentioned a while back on my profile [on Wattpad] that Liora was six months pregnant before she got trapped in the circus.

Rhea would be exactly the kind of friend who advises ending a relationship and then celebrates that couple’s wedding.....

Fact: Originally, Liora’s name was going to be Daisy [because it symbolized loyalty and innocence], but I changed it when Chapter 6 came out [because Liora symbolizes hope as her archetype and her name means “My Light” which gives a nod to Liora’s “shine” in her halo + the ballet, and when it breaks, she also loses her “shine”]. Everything is thought out, guys, from her name, her personality, her appearance, and her dreams👀. I wanted to throw in a little nod here

Extra: Liora asks “What am I going to do now?” instead of “What are we going to do now?” because things were already so bad that Liora didn't know if Felix was going to be with her or not.

Is Felix’s redemption arc coming up? Well, keep reading...

Anyway, I hope you liked it. Don’t forget to hit the heart, comment, and follow me for more updates. Thank you so much for reading. See you on Sunday!

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