"You said you love me? Then beg for it. Beg for my love. Show me-prove it again and again until I say yes."
Beatrix is a girl of few words, someone who keeps her emotions locked away, unwilling to let anyone close. After experiencing deep trust issu...
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Ethan :
I released Beatrix's hand, and she was gone from my sight. Her words still echoed in my mind, but I couldn't make sense of them. I had let go of her hand, thinking she was angry, but when I looked at her face, I realized I was wrong. It wasn't anger. It was something deeper, a rush of emotions spilling over in her eyes and voice. The look she gave me when I loosened my grip was unbearable. Disappointment, sharp and clear, marked her face. Why did she look at me like that? What had I done to make her so... hurt?
I didn't stop to question what had happened between Martha and Beatrix. As the emotions settled and Beatrix slipped out of sight, all I could do was run, desperate to find her. But no matter where I searched, I couldn't see where she had gone. Where could she go? I repeated the question over and over in my mind.
Without thinking, I sprinted toward the restroom. It was the one place I could think of that would be empty, where she might be alone. I pushed the door open without a second thought, the impulse to find her stronger than any hesitation. I didn't even consider that I was about to enter the women's restroom, but at that moment, I couldn't care less. I had to find her.
I looked around, my eyes frantically scanning every corner, and then I saw her—sitting on the floor, her arms wrapped tightly around herself, her head shaking slightly as she murmured under her breath. The sight shattered me. Her low voice, the tone of it, the fragile state she was in—it broke something inside me. I couldn't stand to see her like this.
I didn't say anything at first. I just knelt in front of her, my gaze fixed on her, unsure of what to do, unsure of what to say. What could I say? What if I made things worse? The silence between us stretched until, finally, she seemed to realize I was there. She stopped murmuring, but she didn't look up.
I felt the words spill from my mouth before I could stop them.
"Sorry," I whispered, though I wasn't sure why I was apologizing. It just felt like everything had gone wrong, like it was all my fault that she was in this state.
She looked at me, her eyes red and swollen. For a fleeting moment, our gazes met, and then, without a word, she tried to stand. But her foot gave way, and she lost her balance.
I reached out, steadying her and lifting her effortlessly into my arms.
"What?" she muttered, her body tense, trying to pull away.
"Quiet," I whispered, my voice soft yet firm, close to her ear. "You can say whatever you want later. For now, just stay still."
She didn't respond. Instead, she simply leaned her head.
I don't know what I'm doing, but for now, all I can think about is staying close to her, keeping her safe. I just need to take her somewhere—somewhere no one can watch us.
I stepped out of the restroom, her weight still in my arms. As I walked down the hallway, we ran into Martha and Ryle, along with a few other students scattered around. I didn't bother to acknowledge them, my focus solely on getting her somewhere away from prying eyes.
"Ethan," Martha called out, her voice laced with curiosity.
"Later," I replied, my voice cold and distant, never once meeting her gaze as I walked past them.
