As expected, Brianne didn’t co to school the next morning.
Can’t bla her.
Everyone’s been talking about that old bastard priest’s words and the breakdown she had after his insults—crying in front of the whole damn world.
People like that just wait to see soone fall so they can vent their own frustrations, and my classmates are no different.
I should be glad that, for once, the gossip isn’t about .
But hell, I’d give anything for these pieces of trash to shut up about her and go back to making up so nonsense about —like how I slept with so guy’s wife and got beaten half to death for it.
Only Elaine—easily the smartest among them—hasn’t said a word.
More than once my hands itched to break a few noses, but I held back.
If I did, I’d definitely get expelled—not exactly the news Isabelle would want to hear while she’s away on business.
Still, I can’t just let Brianne suffer alone.
So the mont classes end, I head straight to her place.
I’ve only been there once, when she returned the money for the dress, but I still rember exactly where it is.
I tried calling her to let her know I was coming, but she didn’t answer or call back.
And yeah... it’s normal to start worrying in cases like this, right?
These days you hear it all on the news—people doing extre things after public humiliation.
And if sothing’s happened to Brianne... I’ll burn that damn church to the ground with everyone inside.
I press the doorbell.
No answer.
A few seconds later, I press it again.
The front door buzzes open—I sigh in relief, but it doesn’t last.
It wasn’t Brianne who opened it, just another tenant heading out.
That’s when the anxiety really hits .
I slip inside before the door closes and sprint up all twelve flights of stairs, reaching her door in no ti.
Why am I doing this? Good question...
Even I don’t believe my own excuse of "it’s just a challenge to myself" anymore.
If that were true, I wouldn’t be this worried about her.
And then... that almost-kiss last night.
My heart still hamrs in my chest just thinking about it.
Sure, just hours before my tongue was in Mrs. Fenwick’s mouth—and not just her mouth—but not once did I feel anything close to what I felt when Brianne’s breath brushed against my face.
I always thought she was the one with a crush on , but... hell, are the roles reversing?
I knock hard on the heavy wooden door.
Once. Twice. Three tis... then I stop as I hear faint footsteps—bare feet on the floor—pause right behind it.
The lock turns and the door cracks open.
Brianne peeks out, her body hidden behind it.
Seeing her eases my worry a little, but not much.
She’s only a shadow of herself—puffy red eyes, dark circles, like she hasn’t slept at all.
She stares at with a dull gaze but says nothing.
She probably expects to speak first—maybe to explain why I’m at her door.
«You weren’t at school today and you didn’t answer your phone. So, uh... after what happened yesterday, I got worried and ca here. I-I was going to ask if you wanted to grab a drink—to get your mind off things—but maybe it’s not the right ti. I should probably just go,» I mumble, stamring like an idiot.
Damn... , stamring like so awkward kid? Embarrassing.
She gives a faint, clearly forced smile.
«I just had my phone off, that’s all... Thanks for worrying about —believe it or not, you’re the first person who did after what happened. Not surprising, since most of the people I know are in the Church of the God of Light... and of course, they want nothing to do with now.»
Brianne opens the door wide—she’s wearing tight shorts and a white T-shirt, probably what she sleeps in.
A stunning sight that would normally get hard instantly, but right now I barely notice.
All I see is the sadness on her face.
«...Co in. Honestly, I’m not in the mood to see anyone today—especially you—but I can’t exactly kick you out after you ca all this way just to check on .»
Especially ? What the hell did I do? Still, if she’s letting in, it ans she’s at least willing to explain whatever mysterious reason she has for not wanting to see .
Won really are impossible to figure out.
We’re back in her room—it looks more like a national library than a bedroom.
I must’ve interrupted so serious reading, because there’s a big open book on her bed.
Not surprising if she’s using reading to cope with last night’s ss—probably so fantasy novel.
Totally wrong.
A closer look shows it’s none other than the Aiglamicon, the holy text for followers of the God of Light.
The question slips out without thinking.
«Brianne... I don’t an to pry, but... why the hell are you still wasting ti on this stuff? You saw firsthand yesterday how cruel those so-called believers can be—you’ve beco unrecognizable because of them!»
Brianne doesn’t answer right away.
Moving slowly, almost sluggishly, she picks up the Aiglamicon and gently puts it back on the shelf.
Then she sits softly on the bed and pats the mattress—clearly telling to sit beside her.
I do, without overthinking or letting my mind wander.
«God is God, n are n,» she begins, her voice soft and almost a whisper. «It would be foolish to bla the God of Light for the sins of others—it’s like accusing you of a cri committed by so distant ancestor. Makes no sense, right? Anyway, it’s not what happened during the parade, or what’s been said on TV, in the papers, or at school. Sure, it hurt in the mont, but thanks to my mom and dad being there for after you walked ho, I realized I have nothing to be ashad of. My conscience is clear, and the words of so old extremist won’t change the person I am.»
«Then if it’s not because of that... what happened, Brianne? I’m lost here.»
And then... I flinch as her fingers brush against mine and then rest on top.
«...It’s what happened after that’s breaking . Or rather, what was about to happen between us—that kiss...»
Oh, shit... all that effort to look like a dependable guy, only to blow it at the end.
Goodbye reputation—now she’ll think I’m just soone who takes advantage of a mont of weakness to pounce. I’m such an idiot. But co on... all this drama over almost kissing? I get being religious, but this is a bit much.
«Well, in the end, nothing happened. I admit, maybe I got carried away for a second, but—»
I don’t even finish before she cuts off... by pressing her lips to mine.
A long, lingering peck—no tongue.
Innocent, like sothing between kids who don’t even understand what it ans.
Yet, sohow, far deeper than it seems.
She pulls back after nearly thirty seconds, tears streaming down her cheeks.
«I-It’s not the kiss itself that’s the problem, Ren... it’s what it ans to .»
She closes her eyes, pauses, and takes a deep breath.
«Ren... I love you.»
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