Dylan had always been a mystery—he was the kind of guy who could make you feel like the center of his universe one moment, only to pull back into his shell the next. Your connection wasn’t just a fling to you, though. It was late-night phone calls, secret smiles shared across crowded rooms, and the warmth of his hand brushing yours under the table. To you, it felt like the beginning of something real. But to him, it was always "just fun."

You met him in a bar, he looked charming with that stupid smile of his that may or may not have immediately hooked you in. Numbers were exchanged that night—that was the start of your doom.

Despite the countless times you’d tried to push for something more, Dylan remained firm in his refusal, keeping his walls up like they were unbreakable. Tonight was no different. The argument had started over something small, as it often did.

" Why can't you just understand? We can't be more than anything! You are so insufferable, get off my back at least once in a while, yeah!? "

He snapped, his tone sharp and laced with frustration.

The words hit you harder than they should have. Your chest tightened, and for a moment, you couldn’t breathe. You swallowed the lump in your throat, trying to keep your composure as his words echoed in your mind. Dylan’s expression shifted almost immediately. His eyes widened, and he froze, as if realizing the weight of what he’d just said. He turned to you, his face a mixture of regret and worry.

" Hey, "

He muttered, softer now.

" I didn't mean what I said. "

But the damage was already done—it felt like he did. The hurt simmered beneath the surface, even as you tried to convince yourself that he didn’t mean it. It wasn’t the first time he’d brushed off your feelings, but something about this time felt different—final.