The hate between us

Chapter 16: Caleb's Point of View

Ella stood her ground, clearly not backing down from my anger, but instead of responding with more words, she reached for a bottle of neon paint nearby. I raised an eyebrow, watching as she smeared some on her hands with a playful grin.

"Look," she said, before slapping her paint-covered hands against my chest.

I took a step back, surprised by the boldness of her move. Her hands left bright neon marks on my bare skin, the paint cold and sticky against me. I looked down at the glowing handprints and then back up at her, caught between annoyance and something else I couldn't quite place.

Ella's eyes briefly flicked downward, and I noticed her expression shift, the teasing smile faltering for a second as she registered what had just happened. Her face flushed, a deep red that even the neon lights couldn't hide. I smirked, and she immediately took a step back, embarrassed.

"Not what you were expecting?" I asked, my voice low, leaning into the moment.

She didn't respond—at least not with words. Instead, she turned quickly, brushing past me as she headed toward the bathroom, the blush on her cheeks still visible under the neon lights.

I hesitated for a moment, but then followed her, watching as she disappeared into the bathroom to wash the paint from her hands. My heart was still racing from the exchange, the tension between us more intense than it had ever been.

When I reached the bathroom, I found her standing by the sink, scrubbing the paint off her hands with a focused intensity, clearly trying to shake off what had just happened. Without thinking, I stepped inside and quietly closed the door behind me.

She glanced up in the mirror, her eyes meeting mine as she realized I had followed her. For a moment, neither of us said anything, the air between us thick with everything that had been building all night.

"What are you doing, Caleb?" she asked softly, her voice barely above a whisper, but it wasn't angry this time. It was more curious, like she wasn't sure what to make of this new side of me.

I leaned back against the door, crossing my arms over my chest as I watched her. "I could ask you the same thing."

She turned back to the sink, her hands still moving under the water, though it was clear she was flustered. "I was just messing around," she muttered. "You're the one who's making it weird."

I let out a soft laugh, stepping forward just slightly, but not enough to crowd her. "You're the one who smeared paint all over me."

Her eyes flicked up to meet mine in the mirror again, this time holding my gaze longer. The tension between us was undeniable, and for the first time in a long time, it felt like we were standing on the edge of something. Something neither of us fully understood, but couldn't ignore.

After a moment, she turned off the water and grabbed a towel, drying her hands. "Okay, fine," she said, her voice soft but playful again. "Maybe I went a little overboard."

I couldn't help but smile at that. The fire between us hadn't died down—it was just changing, evolving into something new.

"I think we both did," I admitted, leaning a little closer but making sure to give her space, letting her set the tone. "But you have to admit, this party's more interesting with me here."

She rolled her eyes, but there was no real heat in it. "You're impossible, Caleb."

I stepped back, letting the tension ease for a moment, though I knew we were far from resolving whatever was happening between us. "You've been saying that for years."

She smiled, shaking her head as she tossed the towel aside. "Yeah, and it's still true."

The playful moment lingered between us as we stood there in the small bathroom, the sounds of the party muffled behind the door. For the first time in a long time, it felt like we were on the same page—both aware of the tension but respecting the boundaries between us.

Whatever was going on between us, we were still figuring it out. And for the first time, I wasn't in a rush to push it any further than she was ready for.