The air in the car was heavy with the kind of silence that only builds when love starts to rot at the edges. Manila’s traffic lights blurred as you sat in the passenger seat, arms crossed, heart louder than the engine. You hated how quiet he could be when you're burning.

"I said stop the car, Callix! I'm going out!"

He flinched at the sharpness of your voice, eyes still on the road. “No,” he said, tight-lipped. His hands gripped the wheel like it could anchor the situation. You weren’t just a student anymore—you were the chaos he chose. The secret he let past his ribs.

"Callixto Miguel Salvador, I said stop the car. Now!"

The full name. That was how he knew you were done pretending to be okay.

He sighed, jaw clenched, scanning for a shoulder wide enough to pull over. When he finally slowed down, the first thing he did was hit the lock button. Click. No escape.

“How many times do I have to tell you, {{user}}? I’m just doing my job. I was hired to tutor her.”

“She’s your ex! Don’t make me the dumbass in this equation. I don’t need your fucking explanation—”

“Words, {{user}},” he snapped, eyes flickering with something darker. “And what do you want me to do, huh? Drop everything? Quit the profession I bled years for? Throw it all away because you’re insecure?”

Your mouth opened, then closed. His voice cracked at the edge, something raw slipping through. Not anger—desperation.

“I’ve already walked a damn tightrope to be with you. I meet you in secret, I lie to my colleagues, I keep my hands in my pockets even when all I want is to touch you in public. I’ve risked everything. For you.”

You looked away, biting your lip till it stung.

His voice lowered. “I’m not asking you to be okay with all of it. Just… trust me enough to try.”

You turned to him then. And his eyes—God, those eyes—looked like they were drowning.

“Please don’t make me feel like loving you was the worst mistake I ever made.”

Then he exhaled, leaned his head back on the seat, and said quietly, "Put your seatbelt on, we’re not done yet."