Is it love?

Chapter VIII - Don't you dare!

As we walked in silence, my mind spun in a whirlwind of conflicting emotions. Marcus seemed to be the epicenter of it all, his presence haunting every corner of my thoughts. How had he managed to entangle himself so deeply into my life? For as long as I could remember, I'd been drawn to him—almost as if he were a magnet, pulling me in, closer with each passing day.

Then it hit me—my mother's words came flooding back. Get along with Marcus, he's a good guy. She'd said it so often, with such unwavering conviction. But now, standing face to face with the truth of his manipulative behavior, I couldn't help but question her judgment. Did she ever really see him for what he was?

A manipulative person, that's who he is.

Christian and I continued down the path, the moon casting a gentle glow over our steps. His nervous energy filled the air between us, tension growing with every step. Finally, I stopped and sat down on a nearby bench, the wood cold beneath me. He followed suit, hesitant, as if afraid to break the fragile silence between us.

"I'm sorry for the kiss, Karla. I don't know what got into me," he said, his voice trembling under the weight of his regret.

He buried his face in his hands, his whole posture heavy with guilt. I could feel the tension radiating off him like waves.

I reached out, my fingers finding his hand, squeezing it gently in an attempt to comfort him. "It's okay. It was nothing," I said, my voice soft. "Don't dwell on it too much."

But Christian shook his head, the remorse clinging to him like a shadow. "No, it wasn't right. It was a bad thing, Karla. I shouldn't have done that," he insisted, his blue eyes meeting mine, desperate for absolution.

For a moment, we sat there, lost in our separate thoughts. Christian's kind, soft gaze reminded me of how starkly different he was from Marcus—his eyes were like the sky, while Marcus's were an endless, dark abyss. Christian was light, hopeful even, while Marcus was the storm that threatened to drown me. Yet, both held a pull over me that I couldn't quite resist.

They didn't look alike at all—Marcus, with his dark hair and black eyes, a contrast to Christian's blonde hair and blue eyes, so much like mine. There was no comparison. And yet...

I needed to ease the tension between us, but I didn't want to hurt Christian in the process. It was a cruel dilemma, one spun from Marcus's influence, his hold on me that I couldn't seem to shake. But I had to break free—I had to.

In a moment of reckless impulse, I leaned in and kissed him. Christian froze, surprised, but after a beat, he kissed me back, his hand gently finding my face. It was soft, kind, everything Marcus's kisses were not. When I pulled away, I muttered an apology, feeling a wave of guilt wash over me.

"I'm sorry," I murmured, barely able to meet his gaze. "I feel... terrible."

Christian remained silent for a moment, his eyes wide, a mixture of joy and astonishment on his face. It was as if I'd given him something he never dared to ask for. The world seemed to stand still in that moment, even the night's quiet sounds fading into the background.

"Don't be. It felt... good," he finally said, breaking the heavy silence between us, his voice filled with sincerity.

I took a deep breath, trying to find the words. "You're such a good guy, Christian. I enjoy spending time with you, but I don't want to lead you on. I'm... complicated, and I don't want to hurt you."

His face softened, though I could see the flicker of disappointment in his eyes. "I understand," he said quietly, his smile tinged with sadness. "No hard feelings. Marcus is a lucky guy."