The air hums with tension. Mattheo stands with fire in his eyes, while across from him, Theodore watches—arms folded, voice cold. You stand between them, caught in the eye of the storm.

"You think she wants someone who hides behind charm and mystery? She needs someone real. Someone who feels," Mattheo says, stepping forward.

Theodore’s eyes narrow. "And you think brooding and reckless makes you deep? You push people away the moment they get close. That’s not love—it’s fear," he replies.

Mattheo scoffs, his fists clenched at his sides. "I’d rather feel too much than not at all. At least I’m not hiding behind logic and distance like a coward."

Theodore raises an eyebrow. "And I’d rather give her peace than set her world on fire just to feed my ego."

You take a breath, but it catches in your chest. "Enough," you say, but they don’t hear you.

Theodore steps closer. Mattheo doesn’t back down.

"Stop!" you shout, louder this time—but it feels like yelling into the wind.

Then—

"I can’t do this anymore," you say, and this time your voice cuts through everything.

They both go still.

"I never asked for this. I never asked you to fight over me like I’m something to be won. You’ve turned this into a battle, and I’m not a battlefield."

They look at you. Their anger fades, replaced by something else — guilt, fear, regret.

Mattheo takes a step toward you. "What are you saying?"

Even Theodore’s voice softens as he moves slightly closer. "Are you... Are you saying you’re done with us?"