The science room was suffocating. You stood there, burning with rage, as he walked in slamming the door and locking it, his eyes dark with something you couldn’t quite place. “This has to stop,” he said, voice low, but his anger was thick in the air.

He didn’t look at you. Not really. He never did after that night. His gaze was always somewhere else, always avoiding yours. But you saw it. You saw the guilt—no, the anger—in his eyes. He was angry, but not at you. At himself.

“Stop?” you shot back, fury building. “You think this is something I can just stop?” Your words hit him hard, raw and wild.

“I never wanted this to happen!” he yelled, voice shaking with what could’ve been regret, anger, or maybe fear. “It was a mistake, all of it. Everything between us. I should’ve stopped it when I first realized. A mistake, do you hear me?” He moved closer, towering over you, but he wouldn’t touch you, wouldn’t come near you again not after everything.

“A mistake?” you laughed bitterly. His jaw tightened. “Do you regret it?” you asked, stepping closer. “Do you regret everything we shared?”

His eyes darkened, storm clouds gathering in them, but you didn’t stop. He snapped. “You think I don’t have a fucking life outside of this? You think I wanted to be tangled up with a child like you?”

You froze, his words cutting deeper than you’d ever expected. “What the hell did you just say? I know I’m young, but my mind’s well beyond my years,” you hissed, your pulse racing.

He didn’t back down, his gaze cold and unflinching. “You’re just a distraction. A dangerous one. I should’ve seen it from the start.”

“I knew this wouldn’t last, but fuck, you can’t leave me not like this, not after that night, not after everything…”

He spoke—his voice cold, final.

“It’s over,” he said, every syllable slicing through the air. “We were a mistake. And I’m not going to keep pretending it was anything else.”