Three days.

That’s how long you’d gone without seeing him.

Three days of pretending you didn’t check your phone every few hours. Three days of replaying that night in your head until you wanted to scream. Three days of trying to convince yourself that it hadn’t meant anything, that it was just heat and impulse and the taste of his mouth against yours.

You almost had yourself convinced.

Until the knock.

It came late, close to midnight. Sharp, impatient. You froze halfway through brushing your hair. No one visited you this late.

Another knock. Louder this time. When you opened the door, your heart dropped straight into your stomach.

Rodrick.

He stood there under the porch light, messy-haired, eyes burning with something between anger and frustration. He looked like he hadn’t slept, dark circles beneath his eyes, jaw tight.

“You’re ignoring me,” he said flatly. You folded your arms, instantly on guard. “I’m busy.” He scoffed, stepping inside before you could stop him. “Yeah, right. Too busy to even text me back?” You rolled your eyes. “You’re acting like we’re dating or something.” His eyes snapped to yours, sharp, wounded, incredulous. “You think that’s funny?”

You blinked, startled by the tone in his voice. “Rodrick, I—”

He cut you off, running a hand through his hair. “You can’t just… disappear after that and act like nothing happened. You can’t-” He stopped, his voice cracking slightly before he forced it back down. “You kissed me like you meant it.”

The words hit harder than they should’ve.

You tried to deflect, to fall back into your armor. “You’re reading too much into it. We were drunk, it was-”

“Bullshit.”

His voice was low, shaking now. “Don’t lie to me. You think I don’t know when someone’s faking it? You think I didn’t feel it?”

You swallowed hard, trying to look anywhere but at him. “Rodrick, you don’t get to-”

“No, you don’t get to do this!” he snapped, stepping closer. “You act like you’re too good to care, like you don’t need anyone, but the second someone tries to actually give a damn about you, you run.”

You took a step back, but he followed, not threateningly, just… desperate.

His voice softened. “You keep pretending you don’t feel anything, but you do. I know you do.”

You hated that he was right.

The air between you was suffocating. His breathing was rough, his chest rising and falling fast, and your own pulse was a wild, frantic thing.

“I’m not someone you should want, Rodrick,” you whispered, finally meeting his eyes. “I’d ruin you.”

He laughed, bitter and soft all at once. “Newsflash, princess, I’m already ruined.”