Kant

The weight in my chest felt like a goddamn lead anchor. I had been in and out of the haze for days, recovering from that bullet wound, but nothing was quite healing the way it should. It wasn't the physical pain that hurt anymore. It was everything else.

Fadel's actions-the way he pulled back from me, leaving me behind when I thought maybe we'd crossed some line together-stung in a way I wasn't prepared for. I hadn't realized how much I'd come to rely on him being there, how much I'd gotten used to his presence, the way he seemed to care without saying it out loud. And now, it felt like he was gone. Completely gone.

I hated that it bothered me so much. I hated that, despite all the walls I'd built around myself, I couldn't ignore the ache in my chest. What the hell was it with me? Why did I even care?

I didn't have the answers. I didn't even know if I wanted to find them.

All I knew was that I couldn't stay here anymore. Not with Bison and Style trying to nurse me back to some kind of normalcy. Not with the weight of Fadel's silence hanging over me. I needed space. I needed to be alone.

I pulled on my jacket, pacing around Bison's place for a moment, the decision clawing at my gut. Finally, I walked into the living room where Bison was lounging on the couch, scrolling through something on his phone.

"I'm leaving," I said, my voice rough, but firm. It was the only choice I had left.

Bison looked up from his phone, raising an eyebrow. "Leaving? Where the hell are you going? You're barely healed up."

"I'll be fine," I muttered, shoving my hands into my pockets. "I just... need to get away from this. I'm going back to my place. I don't want to be a burden anymore."

He stared at me for a long moment, like he was trying to gauge whether I was serious or just in a mood. But when he saw the look in my eyes-something guarded, something final-he nodded.

"Alright, man. But you know where to find me if you change your mind." He gave me a half-smile, but I could see the concern in his eyes. He didn't say anything more, and I didn't want him to.

I grabbed my bag and left, stepping out into the crisp night air. My apartment wasn't far, just a few blocks away. It wasn't the most glamorous place, but it was mine. It had been the only place where I could shut everything out, where I could be alone.

But as I made my way down the street, something gnawed at me.

I wasn't sure what it was-guilt? Regret? I couldn't name it. But I couldn't stop thinking about Fadel. About how he had been there for me, how he had stayed even when he didn't have to. And yet, it felt like he had abandoned me when I needed him most. Maybe I had misread everything.

I didn't have answers, but I knew one thing: I couldn't be around them anymore. I needed space to think, to figure out what the hell was going on in my own head.

I kept walking, the silence of the streets heavy around me, until I reached my apartment. I unlocked the door and stepped inside, the familiar scent of old wood and concrete surrounding me. It felt better than the suffocating tension I had left behind.

What I didn't know was that, even as I settled into my solitude, I wasn't as alone as I thought.

Fadel was watching.

From a distance, hidden in the shadows, his eyes tracking my every movement as I walked away from the world I'd been in and into my own. He was still there, still holding on in ways I couldn't understand.

And whether I wanted to admit it or not, I knew it wasn't over. Not yet.

I kicked my shoes off at the door and walked deeper into the apartment, the place feeling too quiet, too empty. The clutter around me seemed like a reflection of the mess inside my head. I moved aimlessly, hands brushing over the surface of a countertop, then the back of the couch, as if touching things might ground me somehow. But it wasn't working. Nothing was.

It felt like Fadel was everywhere, even though I hadn't seen him since I left Bison's. Even though I'd walked away from that damn car like I was running from something-maybe from him, from whatever that thing was between us. It was too damn confusing.

I opened the fridge, stared at the half-empty bottles and unappetizing leftovers. Not hungry. Not for food. My mind was still caught on Fadel's face, the way he'd looked at me just before he got out of the car.

I moved to the window, staring out into the street, hands shoved into my pockets. The lights outside flickered, distant traffic humming like some kind of low, persistent heartbeat. I should've felt at peace here, in my own space, but all I felt was the absence of Fadel. That ache, that emptiness. It clawed at me, gnawed at my insides, making my chest tight and my throat dry.

The worst part was that I didn't even want to admit it. I didn't want to admit that I was missing him-that his absence was a hole I couldn't fill. That I'd never felt more unsure about anything in my life than I did now.

I paced the apartment, hands running through my hair, frustration bubbling up again. The more I tried to push him out of my mind, the more he lingered.

I stopped near the couch, my eyes flicking to my phone. I had half a mind to call Bison, to drown myself in something else, anything else, but I couldn't do that either. Not tonight. I couldn't fake it. I couldn't pretend everything was fine when it wasn't.

What did I even want?

I hated how weak it felt to ask that, to admit that I didn't have the answers. But the reality was, I didn't know.

I let out a shaky breath, sitting down on the couch, staring at the empty space across from me. What the hell was I supposed to do now?

It wasn't that I wanted to chase him, but I couldn't keep pretending like nothing had changed. I had changed. I could feel it in every part of me that was suddenly aware of the space he had occupied in my life, even if he didn't know it.

I ran a hand over my face, trying to gather the fragments of my scattered thoughts. I could hear Fadel's voice in my head, the way he'd spoken to me, the way his presence seemed to shift the air when he was near. It was maddening.

I couldn't escape it.

And the worst part? I wasn't sure I wanted to anymore.

I sat there, the weight of everything pressing down on me, suffocating. My mind was a mess-thoughts spiraling, tumbling over each other, crashing together like a storm I couldn't outrun. I couldn't even pinpoint what I was feeling. Anger? Frustration? Confusion? Probably all of it, swirling into a single, unbearable thing.

I didn't want to feel. I didn't want to let this vulnerability in, but it was impossible to ignore.

I let my head drop into my hands, the coolness of my palms doing little to ease the heat that had built in my chest. There was a tightness in my throat, something aching that I didn't want to acknowledge. But it was there. It wouldn't go away.

And before I could stop it, a choked sound slipped from my lips, and the tears came. Reluctantly. Slowly. But they came.

I hated it. Hated feeling like this. Vulnerable. Weak. A mess. I wasn't supposed to cry. I wasn't supposed to care, especially not about someone like Fadel. But I did. I had let myself care. And now it felt like I was drowning in everything I couldn't control.

The tears streaked down my face, hot and unfamiliar. I wiped them away, but they just kept coming. I didn't even try to hide it anymore.