† 𝐅𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐛𝐢𝐝𝐝𝐞𝐧 † Angels Love

Chapter 17

Star's POV

I slammed the door to my dorm room behind me, the noise echoing in the silence. My chest heaved with ragged breaths as I slid down to the floor, feeling the cold wood press against my back. My heart was still pounding, not just from the furious outburst in the dining hall, but from the raw truth that had slipped out with those angry words. 

"I hate him! I hate Christopher!" 

The moment I screamed it, I knew it was a lie. And somehow, that terrified me more than anything.

Tears stung my eyes, but I forced them back, pressing the heels of my hands against my temples, trying to block out the confusion and frustration that swirled in my mind. Why couldn't I just shut my feelings off? Why did Christopher make me feel so out of control, so exposed? He had a way of getting under my skin, of making me care more than I wanted to. I'd spent years building walls around myself, hiding behind the safety of rules and the certainty that angels and devils weren't supposed to be together. 

But in just a few short weeks, Christopher had torn those walls down without even trying.

Last night had been perfect. The memory of his lips on mine, the warmth of his body as we danced in my room, the way he looked at me like I was the only thing that mattered—it had all felt so real. For a few precious hours, the Codex didn't exist, the rivalry between angels and devils didn't matter, and the rest of the world had faded away. I let myself fall, let myself believe that maybe, just maybe, we could be something more than enemies.

But this morning, reality had come crashing back. The weight of everything I'd ignored the night before had hit me like a tidal wave. The Codex, the rules, the expectations—it was all still there, hanging over me like a shadow. 

And then there was Lily.

She'd seen through me, seen the way I looked at Christopher, the way I felt. I'd taken out all my anger and fear on her, letting it boil over in a way I never should have. I blamed her because it was easier than admitting that I was the one who'd let my guard down, who'd let Christopher in.

I pulled my knees to my chest, wrapping my arms around them, feeling small and lost in the silence of my room. "I don't hate him," I whispered to myself, the words sounding hollow. "I just... don't want to feel this way."

***

The next few days passed in a blur of uncertainty and dread. I tried to find Christopher, to talk to him, but he seemed to have vanished. He wasn't in the dining hall, wasn't in the library, wasn't in any of the places where we usually ran into each other. It was like he'd disappeared. Each day that passed without seeing him, the anxiety inside me grew. What if he was avoiding me? What if he'd heard my outburst and decided he didn't want anything to do with me anymore?

I replayed the scene over and over in my head, wishing I could take it all back. The look on Lily's face when I'd screamed at her, the way the dining hall had gone silent, the hurt that must have crossed Christopher's face if he'd heard my words. It felt like I was drowning in my own mistakes, the weight of my fear and confusion pulling me under.

Finally I caught a glimpse of him. I was walking past the training grounds on my way back from a class, and there he was. He was shirtless, his skin glistening with sweat in the afternoon sun, his muscles tense as he swung his sword at a practice dummy. His movements were sharp and controlled, each strike filled with a frustration that was almost palpable.

I stood there for a moment, hidden behind a tree, watching him. My heart ached at the sight of him, at the way he poured all his focus into each swing of his blade. He looked like he was trying to fight off something inside him, like he was working through a pain that went deeper than just the physical exertion.

I took a step forward, my breath catching in my throat. I wanted to call out to him, to tell him I was sorry, to explain everything. But the words stuck, caught by the lump in my throat. What if he didn't want to hear it? What if he'd already made up his mind to shut me out?

Before I could decide what to do, Christopher turned, his eyes meeting mine across the clearing. For a split second, I saw something in his gaze—surprise, maybe even a flicker of hope. But then his expression hardened, his eyes narrowing. He turned his back to me, resuming his strikes against the dummy with renewed intensity, as if I wasn't even there.

"Christopher!" I called out, my voice shaking with desperation. But he didn't respond. He just kept training, his movements faster, more precise, each strike landing with a thud that echoed through the air.

I stood there, my heart breaking with each swing of his sword. He was ignoring me, shutting me out, just like I'd tried to do to him. And now, I didn't know how to reach him, how to bridge the gap I'd created.

"Please," I whispered, more to myself than to him. "Don't do this. Don't shut me out."

But he didn't stop. His focus was entirely on his training, his face set in a determined, emotionless mask. I watched him for a few moments longer, hoping he would look up, hoping he would give me some sign that he still cared. But he didn't.