Three Means 1

Cheater

    Dulce was at a loss for words throughout her time with Pierre, and he did not question it. He reveled in the silence, grateful for the moments he could share with her.

    Upon their return to the apartment, as Pierre had anticipated, the rest of the group, including Angelo, was gathered outside. The atmosphere was thick with the acrid scent of smoke and alcohol. Protesters hurled glass bottles filled with unknown substances, which exploded upon impact in front of the guards. Their cries grew louder, mingled with the sweat dripping from their masked faces.

    "About damn time! You both took hours. What were you two lovers up to?" the lanky man teased, his eyebrows wiggling suggestively at Pierre. Dulce's cheeks flushed crimson at his question, and she quickly glanced at Angelo, who still held the black-haired girl in his arms.

    Angelo's gaze scanned over Dulce (especially the neck), before shifting to Pierre. "You have the keys, Pierre. You know how intense this gets at night," he remarked, gesturing toward the protesters being subdued by the guards.

    Pierre didn't respond. Instead, he simply walked to the door and unlocked it.

    Inside, Dulce was taken aback to see an elevator—an old, collapsible-door contraption that jiggled and screeched annoyingly as it moved.

    "Let's take the stairs together, alone," Pierre whispered in Dulce's ear. She hesitated at first, but seeing Angelo and the black-haired girl hand in hand entering the elevator, she made her decision.

    Nodding, she followed Pierre to the stairs. As they ascended, Dulce seized the chance to voice her curiosity.

    "That black-haired girl... who is she?" she asked tentatively.

    "Fleur?" Pierre responded, raising an eyebrow.

    "I suppose," Dulce replied, striving to sound indifferent despite her burning curiosity.

    "Angelo's girlfriend," Pierre answered simply.

    Dulce hadn't known what to expect, but the word "girlfriend" sounded too serious to believe. She scoffed, unable to hide her disbelief.

    "What was that reaction for?" Pierre asked, halting his steps.

    "I do not understand how someone can..." Dulce began, but the fear of being dismissed by Pierre made her bite her tongue. She pressed her lips together, deciding against saying more.

    "Please, let's continue," she said instead. Pierre moved ahead and stopped on one of the stairs, turning to face her and blocking her way.

    "Listen, I wanted to be alone with you to apologize if I've ever made you feel uncomfortable today. That was never my intention," he said earnestly.

    "I do not want you to persist with the kissing and touching. I wouldn't have accepted this house exchange if I knew I'd have to deal with that," Dulce whispered, though they were alone.

    "From now on, I guarantee there will be no touching," Pierre promised, placing a hand on his chest, his eyebrows raised with sincere concern. His apology felt genuine. Dulce nodded and gestured for him to continue up the stairs.

    Inside the apartment, everyone was seated around the dining table. Fleur sat next to Angelo, the lanky guy next to her, and another young man with puppy eyes was across from them. Two chairs remained: one next to the puppy-eyed guy.

    "Please, have a seat, Dulce. I will be back shortly," Pierre said before exiting the room.

    Dulce took the seat next to the puppy-eyed guy and smiled at him. He smiled back, his shiny blue eyes so endearing they could make anyone say "aww" out loud.