Worst Nightmare

Chapter 16

(Faye in Black..🔥)...

Authors Pov

The night was thick with an oppressive quiet, its weight settling heavily over the room. Faye stumbled into the corner, her laughter light but hollow, a ghost of its usual vibrancy. She moved as though the ground beneath her shifted with every step, the alcohol dulling her senses but sharpening the divide between her and the world. She had always been good at building walls—tonight was no different. Yet, the distance she created seemed deliberate, a silent plea for solitude disguised in drunkenness.

Yoko stood across the room, her gaze fixed on Faye. She hadn't expected the night to spiral into this—the raw vulnerability, the unspoken emotions thick in the air. It was supposed to be simple, quiet. No confessions. No tearing down walls. Yet, here she was, caught in the crossfire of her own emotions and Faye's unraveling.

Faye blinked, her hazy eyes landing on Yoko. For a moment, a flicker of something crossed her face—confusion, recognition, maybe even a faint trace of longing. Yoko's breath hitched. She wanted to turn away, to give Faye the space she seemed to need. But the ache in her chest, the undeniable pull, rooted her to the spot.

"I love you," Yoko whispered, the words trembling in the fragile stillness.

The confession hung in the air, delicate yet unyielding. Faye's eyes widened, then softened, the rawness in them mirrored by the storm raging in Yoko's heart. But then, the softness dimmed, replaced by something far more guarded—a quiet resignation.

Faye's lips parted, the words spilling out in a slurred whisper. "Yoko... I... I don't. I'm sorry."

The room seemed to tilt, the weight of Faye's response crashing into Yoko like an icy wave. It wasn't the rejection itself but the sadness in Faye's voice, the sorrow in her eyes, that cut deeper than Yoko had anticipated.

Faye swayed slightly, her gaze flickering to the floor. "We can't be together," she murmured, the words barely audible but carrying the weight of a decision made long before this moment.

Yoko felt the air leave her lungs, the chasm between them widening with every passing second. She wanted to argue, to close the gap, to convince Faye that what they had—what she felt—was worth fighting for. But the words wouldn't come.

"I'm sorry," Faye repeated, her voice a faint echo. She turned away, her silhouette dissolving into the shadows as she moved toward the door. "Let's just forget it," she said, her tone laced with finality.

Yoko remained where she was, frozen in the center of the room. The confession still burned in her chest, unanswered and unresolved. The night closed in around her, the silence deafening, as the weight of what could never be pressed down on her like a stone.

... >>>

The morning after came too quickly, the sun creeping in through the curtains, dragging Yoko out of her restless sleep. She had hoped, prayed even, that the events of the night before would feel different in the light of day. But when Faye appeared in the doorway, stretching and yawning as though nothing had happened at all, Yoko's heart sank.

"Morning, Princess," Faye said.

Yoko blinked, her mind struggling to process what she was seeing. Was this the same Faye who had stood in front of her last night, face soft with sadness, turning her away with words that still echoed painfully in the corners of Yoko's mind? Was this the same Man who had, with a few simple sentences, dismantled the fragile thing Yoko had built in her chest?

"Morning," Yoko replied quietly, her voice small, unsure of how to navigate the space between them.

But it didn't feel fine. It didn't feel fine at all. The Prince was acting like it hadn't happened. Like the words Yoko had so carefully spilled in the quiet of the night were nothing more than a fleeting thought, erased by morning light. The ease with which Faye returned to normal was like salt in a wound.