The pounding in Nivera’s head was the first thing she became aware of. A pounding, merciless throb in her skull that made the simple act of breathing feel unbearable.
A sharp, relentless throb that seemed to split her skull in two. Her mouth was dry, her throat burned, and every inch of her body felt like it had been dragged through ss.
Even the faintest streak of light slipping past the drawn curtains stabbed into her head like shards of ss.
She groaned, clutching her temples as she rolled over. The room tilted dangerously, sending her stomach lurching.
Her vision swam, the ceiling blurring into unfamiliar shapes. A sour taste filled her mouth, and, with a sudden urgency, she stumbled out of bed and staggered toward the bathroom.
The cool tiles met her knees as she fell before the toilet, clutching it like a lifeline.
Her body convulsed as she emptied the remnants of the alcohol from the night before. Every heave sent fire through her chest, her tears dripping into the porcin bowl as her throat burned raw.
She was too focused on her misery to notice anything else–until she felt it.
A hand.
Warm fingers brushing her hair away from her face, gathering it in a firm hold to keep it from falling into the mess.
The touch was steady, controlled, almost careful.
For a brief second she froze, thinking maybe it was Marceline or Zabelle–until the faint, unmistakable scent hit her. Clean soap, leather, and a hint of
smoke.
However, she was too far gone in her misery to register anything else. Her body convulsed again, another harsh wave forcing its way out.
Only when the worst of it had passed did she dare to lift her head, the sweat, and tears stinging her eyes.
Alejandro.
He knelt beside her, his expression unreadable, though his blue eyes seemed sharper than ever in the harsh bathroom light.
She blinked rapidly, trying to form words, but another wave of nausea rolled through her, dragging her back to the toilet.
He said nothing, only held her hair tighter, his other hand resting lightly between her shoulder des as she retched again.
When atst her body gave out, she slumped forward, shaking. He helped her back carefully, not letting her copse onto the cold floor.
“Easy,” he muttered, his voice low, steadying her as though he were talking to someone on the verge of breaking.
She leaned against the wall, sweat sticking to her skin, as he reached past her to twist the faucet. The rush of water filled the silence, and a momentter he pressed a cool, damp towel into her hand.
“Wash your face,” he said simply.
Too drained to argue, she obeyed. The coldness against her flushed skin gave her a momentary relief, though her head still throbbed viciously.
When she finally lifted her gaze, she found him still crouched in front of her, studying her with that intensity that always unnerved <i>her</i>.
She swallowed hard, forcing her voice out through the dryness in her throat. “What… what are you doing here?”
<b>08:11 </b>Mon, 1 <b>Sept </b><b>TT </b>
The corner of his mouth lifted faintly, though it wasn’t amusement. “You don’t remember?”
Her brows knitted. “Remember what?”
Nivera’s head snapped toward him, eyes wide.”
“I’ve been a bastard to you,” he admitted, each word sounding heavier than thest. “I’ve treated you like you don’t matter. Like you’re disposable Because it was easier than admitting I didn’t know what to do with you, Easier than admitting you got under my skin. I was a jerk. I belittled you. I <b>hurt </b>you and that… wasn’t fair. You didn’t deserve it.”
Nivera froze, her lips parting as her heart skipped a beat. She searched his face, half–expecting mockery, but there was none. His eyes–dark, sharp–held nothing but quiet sincerity.
“I’m sorry,” he said, the words quiet but earnest. “For every time I made you feel less than you are. For being a jerk when all you did was try
Her chest ached. For a terrifying second, she wanted to believe him. To fall into the softness she saw in him now. But the memory of the pain–his cruelty. his coldness–rose like a shield.
She shook her head, her voice barely steady. “Don’t. Don’t say that. I can’t…”
He tilted his head. “Can’t what?”
“Can’t go through this again,” she whispered, tears burning her eyes though she refused to let them fall. “You don’t get to apologize and expect me to just forget,” she said, her voice shaking with both anger and the ache of restraint.
“Do you know how much it hurt? Every time you pushed me away, every time you made me feel like I was worthless? I won’t do <b>it </b>again. I won’t.”
Her throat burned–not from bile this time, but from tears she refused to let fall.You don’t get to break me twice.”
He flinched, the words slicing deeper than any de.
Closing her eyes, she took a deep breath. “I’ll y whatever role you want,” she went on, forcing steel into her tone. “Girlfriend, decoration, puppet- whatever. But I don’t want to share a roof with you anymore. I don’t want to breathe the same air if it means feeling like this again.”
The dull ache in his chest sharpened into something he couldn’t ignore.
Once, he would have threatened her for such defiance, pinned her down with words or worse until she submitted. But now… he couldn’t bring himself <ol><li>to. </li></ol>
He only looked at her, the silence between them heavy with what he didn’t know how to say. Finally, his voice broke through.
Her head jerked up, shock shing in her eyes. She had braced for fury, for a cold threat. Not this.
“You’re not…you’re not going to force me?”
“No.” His answer was simple but firm.
“I–I’ll figure it out,” she said quickly, too defensive.
He studied her for a long moment, then sighed. “You’re not staying on the streets.”
“I’m not taking another ce from you,” she shot back. “I don’t want anything that ties me back to you.”
His lips curved bitterly. “You’d rather starve than ept anything from me?”
“Yes,” she said firmly, though her voice cracked at the edges.
That cracked something inside him. He turned away, dragging a hand through his hair. “You really hate me that much.”
She did, she had told him she loved him while she was drunk. That was the truth, he told himself over and over again.
However, there was another truth he couldn’t ignore and that was the fact that she was trying to get over him. Her moving out way the first step in drong
Her heart twisted, but she forced herself to stand tall. “No,” she whispered. “That’s the problem. I don’t.”
The silence between them grew thick, heavy, unbearable.
Atst, he turned back, his expression hard but his voice gentler than ever. “Fine. I’ll let you go. But not until you find somewhere secure. Somewhere safe. I won’t let you walk into danger.”
Her throat closed, her heart aching at the unexpected gentleness. It was easier when he was cruel. Easier when she could hate him. But this… this was unbearable.
She turned away, blinking hard. “Do whatever you want. Just don’t expect me to thank you.”
He said nothing, only nodded once. The hollow ache in his chest deepened, settling like a weight he couldn’t shake.
He had found her and he was about to lose her again.
“Come on, let’s go home,” he said quietly.
“Your home, not mine,” she corrected.
He sighed but didn’t say anything.
She hesitated, staring at his hand, then at his face. For a long moment, she thought of refusing. But her body was still weak, her head still heavy.
With a small, reluctant breath, she slipped her hand into his.
They left Marceline’s house together in silence, each step echoing with the things they could not say.
For Alejandro, the realization that he had ruined something fragile before it could even bloom.
For Nivera, the agony of knowing her heart ached for the very man she needed to guard it from.
And between them, the unspoken truth lingered–an invisible chain binding them, even as they walked further apart.