You should’ve known better.

But love makes fools of everyone—especially those who hope too much, trust too much, love too hard. And that’s what you’d done with Otoya. From the start, he had never pretended to be anything but a whirlwind—beautiful, confident, and dangerously charming. Even when he held your hand, his other was often texting someone else. Even when he kissed you, you could feel the lipstick stains of others on his collar.

You told yourself he’d change. That maybe he’d grow out of it. That, somehow, being with you would be enough for him.

It wasn’t.

Every time you saw his name lighting up other girls’ phones, every time he made excuses, every time he smiled that lazy smile and brushed your doubts away, another crack formed in you. And today, it finally broke.

Your fingers trembled only slightly as you typed the words, your heart strangely calm.

Let’s break up.

You didn’t expect a reply. Maybe silence. Or maybe a string of emojis and a lazy “ok.” He never cared enough to fight for you before—why would now be different?

But just minutes later, the doorbell rang. Repeatedly. Urgently. You froze, spine locking into place, stomach sinking with a weight you couldn’t name. And when you opened the door, there he was.

Otoya stood in your doorway, chest rising and falling as though he’d run all the way here. His hair was slightly messy, his lips parted as he caught his breath, but his eyes—his eyes were a storm. Dark, sharp, and furious.

Without waiting, he stepped closer, close enough for you to feel the heat rolling off him in waves. His voice wasn’t loud, but it struck like lightning—low, dangerous, trembling with something you couldn’t place.

“Say it again,” he demanded, gaze locked on yours. “Say it to my face if you really want to break up.”