When Words Turn to Blows

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The sun was just rising, casting a warm, golden glow over the streets as Miguel and Blanca settled into a cozy booth in their favorite little restaurant near campus. The early morning chatter of students, the smell of fresh coffee, and the comfort of familiarity wrapped around them. Blanca watched him carefully as they ate, her eyes searching his face for any sign of the pain he had been hiding.

Miguel, noticing her gaze, forced a reassuring smile. "What?" he asked softly, his voice holding a playful edge despite the weariness underneath. "Do I have crumbs on my face or something?"

Blanca rolled her eyes but leaned closer, her voice soft but firm. "I'm serious, Miguel. You don't have to pretend with me, you know? I want you to remember that I'll always be here, no matter what."

Miguel looked down, a small smile playing at his lips. "You know, you're probably the only person who could say that and make me believe it," he admitted, meeting her gaze. Trying to push his worry aside, he reached out, giving her hand a gentle squeeze. "You don't have to worry so much. I'm getting better. And hey, you're stuck with me for the long haul, too."

She smiled back, a hint of relief flickering in her eyes, though her concern lingered. They continued their breakfast, exchanging casual conversation, but the comfort of her presence was enough for Miguel to let his guard down, even if just a little.

After breakfast, they drove to campus together. In the parking lot, Blanca turned to him with a playful smile, brushing a strand of his hair back. "Alright, I have to go to this meeting. Try not to miss me too much," she teased.

Miguel chuckled, "I make no promises."

She leaned in, placing a soft kiss on his cheek, and then, after a brief pause, kissed him on the lips. When she pulled away, her eyes held a warm, unspoken promise.

"Take care of yourself," she whispered, her voice almost pleading.

Miguel watched her leave, feeling the warmth of her kiss linger as he turned toward his day. For a moment, he felt grounded, tethered to something steady, someone who wouldn't let him drift too far into the shadows.

Miguel was gathering his things from the car when he noticed Nick approaching, his posture casual but his eyes alight with something less friendly. Nick stuffed his hands in his pockets, strolling over with a smirk that hinted he'd been watching for a while.

"Morning, Anderson," Nick said, tilting his head. "Another breakfast with your lovely girlfriend, huh? Must be nice being doted on like that every morning. I'm sure it makes you feel extra... untouchable."

Miguel grinned, not letting himself be rattled. "What can I say? Some of us just have that effect."

Nick chuckled, his smile cold. "Right, of course. You've got it all, don't you? The girl, the team, the fans." He gestured back toward the campus, where a few students had gathered and watched. "Must be exhausting having to juggle your 'perfect' life."

Miguel forced a laugh, shrugging. "Well, you wouldn't know, would you? You're just too busy with... whatever it is you do." His voice dripped with sarcasm, but a pang of hurt crept in as Nick's words hit closer than he wanted to admit.

"Oh, I get it," Nick continued, his tone thick with mock empathy. "Life's not easy for you, either, is it? All that pressure, trying to live up to everyone's impossible expectations, trying to keep all those people you 'love' safe. You don't think you can keep it all together, do you? Maybe that's why you've got Blanca to hold you up."

Miguel's face tensed, but he forced a smile. "Sure, whatever you say, Nick. Maybe one day, you'll get to feel what it's like to have people who actually care."

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