He wasn’t loud like some of the other guys.He didn’t posture or show off.He just… watched.
Always watching.
As kids, it used to annoy me.
Not because he was creepy, because he wasn’t, but because he never stared like he was entitled to me.It was more like he tracked everything around me, like his brain ran a constant scan of potential danger.
If a stranger walked too close at a fair, Ender’s body would shift between me and them without him even realizing he’d done it.If a drunk guy got too loud at the bar, Ender’s attention would snap to it instantly, his gaze sharp.
He’d always been like that.
For everyone.
But especially for me.
And I’d told myself it was nothing.
Just club-kid stuff.
We all watched out for each other.We all protected each other.That was how we’d been raised.
But I’d never been able to make myself believe it fully when it came to Ender.
Because Ender didn’t look at me the way he looked at the others.
He didn’t treat me like a sister.
He treated me like… something fragile.
Something that mattered in a different way.
And it had made my crush feel like a secret I shouldn’t have.
Because if I was wrong, if it really was just protective instinct, then my feelings would make it weird.And weird would ruin everything.
I’d rather swallow my feelings than risk losing him.
Not that I ever thought I could have him anyway.
Ender wasn’t the type who fell for the girl who kept her head down.He wasn’t the type who wanted soft.
He was sharp edges.Quiet intensity.
I’d always admired him from a distance.
Always wanted him from a distance.
And now, sitting in this camper with my wrists burning and my head pounding, I realized distance wasn’t helping me right now.
My breath caught.
I pressed the rope harder against the metal edge, grinding it.
More frays appeared.Not enough, but enough to keep me going.
The birds chirped again.
And then, faintly, something else.