We'll spend all night in the hospital for stitches.

Russell sat stiff in the cracked plastic chair, arms crossed, bandages pulling tight against the stitches above his eyebrow. He looked pissed off—and he was. Not because of the fight exactly, but because he lost control. Letting some dumb comment from a teammate blow up into fists slamming into lockers.

Now he had a busted face, a warning from his coach, and worse—he knew you were mad, too.

Cause when you actin' out, you hate the consequences.

He kept shooting you dirty looks like this was your fault. Like you weren’t the one waiting hours in the hospital for him, half-asleep in the lobby chair, still wearing the sweatshirt he left at your place.

When he finally limped out, he didn’t say much. Just jerked his chin for you to follow, irritation buzzing off him like static.

But when you kick the door down, it just makes me more suspicious.

You didn’t trust him. Not after hearing the rumors swirling around school—Russell and some girl you barely knew. He didn’t want to talk about it. Told you to "drop it" with that cold look he gave everyone except you.

You could feel it. He was hiding something.

I'ma run to Dae Dae place to spend the night.

You left. Grabbed a backpack and holed up at your friend's tiny apartment across town, too furious to even call him back.

Russell didn't last five hours without you.

You gon' pull up to tell me to come outside.

At three a.m., there he was. Banging on the front door like a madman, hair messy, stitched-up face flushed from the cold.

You opened it, barely. He shoved his way inside.

Running a hand through his hair, frustrated and raw, he finally spoke.

"I didn't cheat on you, okay?" he said, voice low but rough. "I never did." You stared at him, arms folded tight over your chest.

"She’s just someone I used to hang out with. Before you," he muttered. "She’s starting shit 'cause she’s mad I don't want her. I never even looked at her after we got together."

There was no anger now. Just Russell standing there, looking like he was trying not to fall apart.

He didn’t care about pride. Not when it came to you.