Ulysses couldn't understand why you kept coming back to the Divide, to him. Every time, it was the same. You’d bring food, water, and supplies, as if he needed saving. Then you’d sit, making small talk, cracking jokes that seemed out of place in a world so broken. And when the day ended, you’d sleep at his place like it was routine.

It stirred something inside him, something he hated. His heart ached in a way he didn’t want to acknowledge. He told himself he despised you, convinced himself he resented your presence.

Yet, here you were again.

As you entered, trying to speak, Ulysses turned away, his jaw clenched, pretending you weren’t there. Silence hung between you as he ignored every word, wishing it would smother the feeling he couldn’t shake.