FROM FRIENDS TO MORE || Gavi x Pedri

Chapter 38 :: delete

The weight of Gavi's message pressed down on Pedri's chest, a physical manifestation of the turmoil churning within him. "Please, Pedri. I need to talk to you." The words echoed in his mind, a desperate plea that tugged at his heartstrings, yet also felt like a slap in the face. He felt a familiar ache in his chest, a mix of anger and hurt that had become a constant companion since Gavi had gone silent.

He scrolled back through the messages, each one a painful reminder of Gavi's absence. The initial silence, the unanswered calls, the ignored messages. It had been weeks, and Gavi hadn't even bothered to explain. He had simply vanished, leaving Pedri to grapple with the uncertainty and the crushing weight of his own emotions.

He had tried to pretend it didn't matter, that he was fine without Gavi's constant presence. He had even tried to convince himself that Gavi didn't care, that he was better off without him. But the truth was, he wasn't. He wasn't fine. He was hurting, and he was angry. He was angry at Gavi for making him feel so insignificant, for treating their connection with such carelessness.

He had poured his heart out to Gavi, shared his vulnerabilities, and in return, he had been met with silence. He had been so hurt, so confused, that he had tried to push Gavi away, to convince himself that he didn't need him. But seeing that message, that desperate plea, it shattered his carefully constructed walls.

He tapped the screen, his finger hovering over the "delete" button. He knew he shouldn't, that he should give Gavi a chance to explain himself. But the anger, the hurt, the feeling of being disregarded, was too much to bear. He deleted the story, the image of him and Gavi laughing together disappearing from the screen. He felt a pang of regret, a fleeting flicker of longing for the warmth that had once filled their interactions. But it was quickly overshadowed by the anger, the resentment that had taken root in his heart.

He turned off his phone, the silence a welcome relief from the constant buzzing of unanswered messages. He lay down on his bed, staring at the ceiling, his mind replaying the memories, the laughter, the stolen glances, the moments of pure joy that had defined their relationship. He thought about Gavi's words, the apology, the plea. He wanted to believe him, to believe that Gavi truly regretted his actions. But the hurt was still too fresh, the wounds too deep. He couldn't bring himself to respond.

He couldn't even bring himself to think about it anymore. He needed a distraction, a way to escape the whirlwind of emotions that threatened to consume him. He picked up his phone, his fingers scrolling through his contacts. He needed someone to talk to, someone who wouldn't judge him, someone who would simply listen. He settled on Ferran, his friend, his confidante. He typed a message, a simple invitation: "Come over, I need someone to talk to." He sent the message, hoping that Ferran's presence would be enough to ease the pain, to distract him from the weight of unanswered questions and unfulfilled promises.

He felt a pang of guilt as he sent the message. He knew he was pushing Gavi away, but he couldn't help it. He was hurt, he was angry, and he needed time to process everything. He needed time to heal. He needed time to figure out if he could ever forgive Gavi, if he could ever trust him again.

The silence in his apartment felt heavy, a stark contrast to the usual symphony of their shared laughter and playful banter. He missed Gavi's presence, the way he could always make him smile, the way he understood him like no one else. He missed their late-night talks, their shared dreams, their unspoken understanding. But he also knew that he couldn't just ignore the pain, the hurt, the feeling of being left behind.

He needed to face it, to acknowledge it, to allow himself to feel it. He needed to understand why Gavi had done this, why he had chosen to disappear without a trace. He needed to understand if there was any hope for their connection, if there was any chance of salvaging what they had.

He got up from his bed, pacing around the room, his mind racing with thoughts and emotions. He couldn't keep running from this. He couldn't keep pretending that everything was fine. He had to confront Gavi, to demand an explanation, to understand what had happened.

But as he reached for his phone, his fingers hesitated. He couldn't bring himself to send another message, to open himself up to further rejection. He was too afraid, too vulnerable. He needed time, he needed space. He needed to figure out what he wanted, what he needed.

He decided to wait, to see if Gavi would reach out. He knew it was a gamble, a chance that Gavi might not take. But he couldn't force him, couldn't make him care. He could only hope that Gavi would understand the depth of his feelings, the pain he had caused. He could only hope that Gavi would fight for them, that he would show him that he was worth fighting for.