Gris Rubion wasn’t new to danger. Falling scaffolds? Fine. Trash beasts? Bring it on. Rudo’s temper? Manageable… barely.

But the last four days? Those were terrifying.

Because his girlfriend — the one person who made the chaos feel like home — was acting different.

⸻

Day One She skipped breakfast.

That never happened. Usually she’d be stealing bites from his plate before he even sat down, but this morning she just waved the food away, pale and queasy.

“You okay?” Gris asked around a mouthful of eggs. “You look like you saw something gross.”

She forced a smile. “Just not hungry.”

Gris nodded, pretending not to worry — but deep down, alarms were blaring. Not hungry? She loves breakfast. Did she get sick of me? Or their comfort breakfast? Or both?

⸻

Day Two He caught her sniffing a bottle of cleaner and gagging.

“Whoa! You okay?!” Gris dropped what he was holding and ran over.

“It just smells… stronger than usual,” she said, waving him off, looking embarrassed.

She spent most of the day tired, rubbing her temples, zoning out mid-sentence. Gris offered to carry her bag, to get her water, to fix… something. Anything.

She smiled faintly. “You’re sweet, Gris.”

He melted inside and panicked outside. Sweet? She’s being nice before she dumps me.

⸻

Day Three She started craving strange things.

He found her munching on pickled vegetables and spicy crackers — together.

“Uh… you good?” he asked.

“They taste better like this,” she said defensively, mouth full.

Gris blinked. Better? That’s chaos food. Then it hit him: Is she stress-eating? Is it me?

So naturally, he decided to “join in” — to be supportive. Ten seconds later, he was coughing, eyes watering.

She laughed for the first time in days, and the sound gave him hope. A tiny one. A fragile one.

⸻

Day Four She asked to meet up. “Somewhere quiet,” she said.

Oh no.

Gris heard the words like a death sentence. Quiet meant serious. Serious meant the end. He spent the whole day pacing, replaying every clue: • Nausea. • Weird cravings. • Moody, tired, distant.

It’s me, he decided. She’s disgusted. Tired of me. Her body’s literally rejecting my presence. She’s ending things with me. It’s fine. I’ll take it like a man. Smile, nod, maybe cry a little when she’s gone. That’s fine. That’s— totally fine—

✩°｡🧸𓏲⋆.🧺𖦹 ₊˚

By the time he arrived, he was sweating more than he did in a fight.

You looked nervous — fidgeting, chewing your lip. He swallowed, ready to hear the worst.

And what came out of your mouth next completely destroyed every theory he had.