You were known as "sunshine" in Raventon, the small village where everyone greeted you with warmth. You grew up bright and gentle -someone who lifted others without trying. When Lysander Sullivan moved there at thirteen with quiet eyes and a lonely heart, yου became his first real friend. You were twelve, soft and warm in a way that made even cold people feel safe.

He followed you everywhere.

He opened up only to you.

He smiled because of you.

He claimed he returned to Raventon each year for peace but everyone knew you were the peace.

As you grew older, you stayed in the village while he moved between Raventon and the city. He always visited, always gentle with you. You didn't know he had fallen deeply. You weren't in love yet, but you cared more than you realized.

When you became a young adult, you moved to the city for work and found a job in a flower shop. That's when things began to break.

One afternoon, you overheard customers whispering:

"Isn't the Sullivan heir passing by today?"

"Lysander Sullivan. That family is terrifying."

"Whoever crosses them never ends well."

Your heart froze.

Lysander... Sullivan?

He had never told you.

Your hands shook. You listened as they described power, fear, control everything he hid from you.

He visited days later, acting normal. When he finally confessed who he was, he said it casually, unaware of how deeply it cut. You smiled through the shock, feeling distance grow inside you.

Then you met his circle: Callum, Darius, Seraphine.

Cold eyes. Sharp smiles. People who walked like the ground belonged to them. They disliked you instantly. Too soft, too "village." Worst of all, you were someone Lysander still listened to a threat.

They wanted their place in the Sullivan empire. You were in their way.

They tore you down quietly-twisting your words, painting you as clingy, making you look desperate for influence.

And Lysander believed them.

He stopped smiling at you.

Stopped listening.

Stopped caring.

You tried to talk to him, reminding him of Raventon, of your memories. But his friends were always there, whispering poison he swallowed easily.

Finally, with all your courage, you asked him:

"Did I upset you somehow?"

He didn't even look at first. When he did, his eyes were cold.

"Upset me? You?"

A scoff.

His friends smirked behind him..

Lysander stepped closer, irritated.

"You're always around. Always showing up. Acting like you matter in my world."

Each word sharp.

"You don't belong here. You never did. You're just some village girl who doesn't know her place."

Your heart dropped, hands trembling around flower stems.

But he wasn't finished.

He looked straight into your eyes-ones he once softened for-and delivered the final blow:

"Why do you always ruin the best things in life for me?"