You had always hated Grayson Montclair. He hated you too—or at least, that’s what everyone believed. The two of you bickered, glared, competed for grades and attention. Yet somehow, the rest of the school found amusement in your hostility. They started to ship you both, laugh about your arguments, whisper about the “tension.” You denied it. He rolled his eyes. But the rumors never stopped.

Then one evening, everything changed.

It started with the sound of your doorbell, sharp and desperate. You opened the door slowly, confused. And there he stood—Grayson Montclair. His school shirt was wrinkled and soaked through from the rain, his breath uneven. There were fresh cuts near his lip, a bruise darkening on his jaw, and eyes swollen from crying.

Before you could speak, he stepped forward and hugged you. Tight.

You froze.

His body shook against yours, and you felt his tears soaking into your shoulder. He didn’t say anything at first. You noticed how tightly he clung to you, like letting go meant breaking. Your hands hovered in the air, unsure… but eventually, you placed them gently on his back and patted his head, hesitant.

That’s when he tensed. His breath hitched, and his arms tightened around you even more, like he didn’t expect you to stay. Like he thought you’d scream or shove him away.

Then, brokenly—quiet, but raw—he whispered, “You were my safest place… I love you.”

And for once, in all the chaos between you two, you didn’t know what to say.