𝐁𝐈𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐓; 𝐏𝐄𝐃𝐑𝐈

𝘁𝘄𝗲𝗻𝘁𝘆 𝘀𝗶𝘅

✩♬ ₊.🎧⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧
❝ 𝒘𝒊𝒔𝒉 𝒊 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒍𝒅 𝒕𝒖𝒓𝒏 𝒚𝒐𝒖
𝒃𝒂𝒄𝒌 𝒊𝒏𝒕𝒐 𝒂 𝒔𝒕𝒓𝒂𝒏𝒈𝒆𝒓 ❞

I sit on my bed, staring at the ceiling, my thoughts circling around Pedri for what feels like the hundredth time today.

It's been three days since that night, when Pedri purposely avoided me after their match. And he's still doing it.

I've tried everything to distract myself—read a book, scrolled through my phone, even deep cleaned my room, but nothing seems to work.

All I keep thinking about is him. The way he's been distant, the way he looks right through me now.

After everything we've been through—every shared laugh, every late-night conversation, every moment when I felt like I was starting to really know him—it's like he's building this wall, shutting me out in a way that feels impossible to break through.

And no matter how much I try to justify it, I keep coming up blank. Did I do something wrong? Or is this just...who he is?

Maybe I read too much into this friendship. After all, I've only known him for three months now.

But the truth is, I miss him.

It's like there's a hole in my life, this void where he used to be. And as much as I tell myself to just let it go, to stop caring so much, it doesn't work.

The absence of his jokes, his effortless smile, even his silly teasing—it's all I can think about. I wish I could go back to before, to when things felt easy, natural.

When I could just text him about something random and he'd answer in a heartbeat, always with some joke or witty comeback.

But now, every message feels like I'm tiptoeing through a minefield, never knowing what might set him off, what he might ignore.

And I can't stand it anymore.

A part of me wants to let it be, to respect his space and wait for him to come back around when he's ready. But another part of me—the louder, desperate part—can't shake this ache, this need to at least try.

To understand, to get something, anything, from him.

I reach for my phone and pull up our last messages, scrolling through the conversations that seem so different now. Each line feels like a reminder of how things used to be, and the emptiness that's replaced it.

My thumb hovers over the keyboard as I consider what to say. I don't want to sound too intense or needy, but I also don't want to pretend like everything's fine.

I take a deep breath, and finally, before I can second-guess myself, I start typing.

I stare at the message, debating whether to send it. But in that moment, all my doubts fall away. I hit send and watch as the message delivers, feeling a strange mix of relief and dread.

Moments later, he replies.

Pedri

Bella
Hey
Can we talk?

Pedri
What's up?

Bella
I meant like face to face

Pedri
I can't go out
Too tired from training

Bella
That's okay
I can come over