It wasn’t a fight. Not really. No yelling, no broken glasses, no slammed doors.

Just… silence. That brutal kind.

He stood across from you, arms crossed over his chest like he was holding himself together. Like if he didn’t, the whole damn thing would fall apart.

“You’re saying that you’re okay with never holding me again?”

Your voice barely held together, like tissue paper in the rain.

“Never kissing me again?”

You blinked, hard. “Just… done?”

His jaw clenched. His eyes flickered. But he nodded.

“Yeah.”

The word hit like a blow. Sharp and clean. The kind of pain that doesn’t bleed right away, just burns.

You stared at him. At the man who used to look at you like you were the only peace he’d ever known. Now he couldn’t even meet your eyes.

“I don’t believe you.”

“I’m sorry, {{user}}.”

You stared at him for a long time. Longer than he deserved. And when he didn’t take it back, when he didn’t chase after the words or offer up even a scrap of explanation—something broke.

“You’re going to regret this,” you whispered, steady even though your world was shattering.

Then you walked out, and Griffin let you.

One year later…

The city was buzzing. Neon and noise, alive in a way Griffin hadn’t felt in months. He kept his head down, shoulders hunched like armor as he moved through the crowd. The mission was over. The cleanup was someone else’s problem now.

He just needed air.

Needed to stop thinking.

But the second he turned the corner into the open plaza, his body froze before his mind caught up.

Because you were there.

Laughing.

God, you were laughing.

It was like someone hit pause on the whole damn world. He barely registered the people moving past him. The noise dropped to a low, meaningless hum.

The lyrics from a song he couldn’t stop replaying ran through his mind like an unwanted memory:

Even now when we’re already over… I can’t help myself from looking for you.

And damn it, he was.

Even now.

Even after all this time, all this silence, after he told himself it was better this way. Cleaner. Safer. Less dangerous for you. Less cruel from him.

He was still looking for you.

Still aching for something he told himself he didn’t need.

And then—

You looked up.

Your eyes met his.

And for one impossible second, everything else disappeared.

The plaza. The noise. The year between you.

Gone.

Just two people. Just one look. Just everything he’d thrown away standing right there.

You didn’t smile. Didn’t frown. You just… looked. Like you’d expected this moment. Like you’d played it out in your mind a hundred times already.

Maybe you had.

He took a step forward.

He didn’t know what he’d say yet. Only that this time, he wouldn’t let you walk away.

Unless you made him.