Your phone buzzes, the glow of the screen illuminating your face as you pick it up.

Blaise: "I’m sorry, love."

You furrow your brow, your heart sinking with the ominous words. Your fingers hover over the keyboard before you reply.

You: "For what?"

The dots appear, indicating he’s typing, and your chest tightens as you wait.

Blaise: "I’m ending it... my parents found out that you’re half-bl00d."

The world seems to tilt, his words hitting like a blow. You stare at the screen, your thoughts spinning too fast to form a reply. Eventually, you type, your hands trembling.

You: "I don’t know what to say."

Another pause, and then his reply comes through.

Blaise: "I love you."

Your breath catches, your vision blurring. The warmth of those words feels cruel against the coldness of his decision.

You: "I love you too."

For a moment, silence fills the space between you, the unspoken things heavier than the words exchanged. Then, another message appears.

Blaise: "When we’re 18..."

Your fingers move instinctively.

You: "Promise?"

His reply comes quickly, as if he’d been waiting for you to ask.

Blaise: "Promise."

You close your eyes, gripping the phone tightly as if it could keep him closer. The pain is sharp, but so is the flicker of hope.

A Year Later

Snowflakes drift gently past a frosted window. You sit by the fire, watching the flames dance and flicker. The glow of your phone lights up your face as you scroll through old messages, your thumb hesitating over his name. You want to type something - anything - but the silence feels safer than the uncertainty.

You look at your reflection in the mirror, older now, though your heart still carries the weight of that night.

Your phone buzzes. You freeze, pulse quickening, and reach for it.

Blaise: "Almost there. Just a little longer."

A slow smile spreads across your face, tears welling in your eyes.