’Louis ❤️❤️❤️’
Craig’s eyes stayed glued to the screen. And then, without thinking, he let go.
The phone slipped from his hand like it burned him, falling through the open stairwell. It hit the floor with a sickening crack, skidding face down across the tile.
rlina couldn’t even scream, she just stared at him. Stunned and silent, then she quickly bolted down the stairs. Her knees hit the floor as she scooped it up.
The screen was shattered, spiderwebbed and fractured nearly in half. The emojis glowed faintly behind the broken glass. A tiny shard of screen glass bit into her thumb as she turned it over.
Her heart slamd into her ribs, she stared down at the broken phone in her hand, no words ca. Did he really just do that? The thought looped again and again, each repetition sharper than the last.
Shock rooted her to the spot.
Craig stood at the top of the stairs, paralyzed by what he’d done. His face had gone pale, like the mont had finally caught up with him. Slowly, he descended, each step weighted with regret.
He stopped a few feet behind her. His voice ca low. Soft, almost unsure. "Is it... damaged?"
She let out a cold, humorless laugh. "You dropped it from how many feets and you’re asking if it’s damaged?"
"I didn’t an to," he said quickly.
"Yeah. That’s the thing with you, Craig. You never an to, do you?" Her voice sharpened. "You act before you think. You destroy things without even noticing."
He stared at her, his expression tightening, confused, almost offended. Like he couldn’t understand where that statent was suddenly coming from.
"It’s a phone, rlina," he muttered. "I’ll get you a new one—"
She shot up, spinning to face him. "You think this is about replacing it? You think because you have money, you can just toss things away and fix it with a swipe of your card?"
His jaw clenched. "Then what is this about ? Are you really this upset about your screen? Or is it because he called?"
She blinked back, like she needed a second to believe he actually said that. Slowly, her expression shifted from hurt to rage, to a look that could cut.
"Are you—" she paused, a stunned laugh catching in her throat. "Are you crazy?"
She took a step back, eyes burning into him. "You dropped my phone, shattered it. And now you’re making this about Louis?"
"It isn’t about him?" Craig said, stepping forward. "Huh?"
"So what if it is? He’s my boyfriend," she hissed. "He’s been there for when you...when everything was falling apart. He matters to ."
"Yeah?" he said, biting. "So what...you love him?"Craig asked, eyes hard.
"Yes. I do." She answered too quickly, too certainly. Like if she said it hard enough, it would feel true.
He laughed then, but there was no warmth in it. Just disbelief. Bitterness.
"You love him," Craig echoed. "Right. And yet you kissed like that. You touched like you didn’t even rember he existed. So what is it, rlina? Are you that naive or do you just kiss any guy who gives you a little attention?"
For a split second, she just stared at him. Then her hand moved fast, sharp, almost graceful in its fury.
The crack of her palm against his cheek was deafening in the silence that followed.
It wasn’t just anger. It was heartbreak, sha, frustration, everything she couldn’t put in words slamming into his skin all at once.
Craig’s face jerked to the side, the sting blooming red across his cheek. A thin scratch from her ring traced his skin.
He blinked, in disbelief.
rlina stared at him, hand still trembling at her side. "Shit," she whispered. "Craig...I didn’t an to..." she murmured. Her voice was barely audible. "You—do you...do you have, like, first aid?"
"First aid?" Craig asked, genuinely confused, his brows knitting together. The sting was still fresh on his cheek, his body still catching up to what had just happened.
"Your face...a little..." she stamred, unable to finish the sentence. She hesitantly lifted her hand, as if to show him the fashion ring on her finger, but the sha was louder than her words.
She couldn’t say it. Couldn’t admit she might’ve cut him.
Craig finally stepped in front of the nearest mirror, catching the scratch. Just a tiny cut on the side of his face, but it changed the air between them.
"It’s—it’s nothing," rlina stamred. "It’s gonna heal. I just...maybe an ointnt or sothing?" She quickly added.
"I don’t know," Craig muttered, voice low. "Maybe upstairs."
They climbed the stairs in a silence far heavier than before. No words passed between them, just the ache of too much done and too much said wrong.
Neither of them had ant for it to go this far.
The slap, the broken phone, the things they threw at each other that weren’t objects but words.
It could’ve gone differently.
Should’ve.
But now they were here, carrying the weight of it in every step.
In his room, rlina opened a drawer and found a small first aid kit.
Craig stood near the door, unmoving. He wasn’t angry, he couldn’t be. A part of him, quietly, almost bitterly, believed he’d earned it. What lingered in his silence wasn’t rage, but sothing heavier. Sadness.
He reached for the ointnt in her hand, fingers brushing hers. Hot and tense.
"Let ," she said softly, her voice barely above a whisper. "Just... stay still."
Craig’s jaw tightened. For a mont, it looked like he’d refuse. But then sothing in him gave in, he exhaled, slow and quiet, and gave a small nod.
She stepped in closer. Close enough to sll the faint trace of his cologne, to feel the heat rolling off his skin. Her fingers were gentle as she tilted his chin slightly, guiding his face toward the light.
The scratch wasn’t deep, just angry and red, a thin line kissed by her ring. Still, it made her stomach twist.
She dipped the cotton swab in ointnt, her hands trembling just slightly, and pressed it carefully to the wound. He flinched, only a little, but didn’t pull away.
"It’s not gonna scar," she murmured, her eyes fixed on the mark. "Doesn’t need a band-aid, but... if you want..."
"I’m fine," he cut in, voice low, but not sharp.
His eyes were on her, not the ointnt. They were on her face, the way her brow furrowed as she focused.
rlina lowered her gaze, sha creeping up her neck like heat. "I didn’t an to hurt you. I’m not... I’m not a violent person. You just—" her voice faltered, fingers tightening around the tube, "—you bring out sides of I don’t even recognize."
She closed the ointnt with a soft click, her gaze fixed anywhere but him.
Craig didn’t respond imdiately. He turned away instead, silent. Walked across the room, slow, asured steps and picked up his phone from the desk. His back was to her as he typed sothing in, thumbs moving with a quiet urgency.
Then he turned, walked back, and held his phone out to her. No words. Just the glowing screen between them.
"Put in your address," he said, finally. "Or your number. The replacent’ll be delivered to you, with an option to back up your data. It’s the least I can do."
She looked at him, then slowly took the phone, tapping in her number. When she handed it back, neither of them spoke.
Craig sat on the edge of the bed, elbows on his knees, staring at his hands. "I’m sorry about your phone," he murmured. "I just...I have no excuses. I probably don’t know what I’m doing anymore."
rlina stood a few feet away, arms wrapped around herself like she was holding sothing in. Her voice was quiet, but steady.
"I don’t know either," she said, voice low, tight. "You help one day and then ghost for a month. Then you show up here, let I and my siblings into your ho, and now? You’re tossing my phone. I don’t... know if this is so kind of ga to you."
She inhaled, sharp and shallow, like she was trying to keep her voice from shaking. There was no heat in her words, just confusion, laced with sothing more fragile. Hurt. Disappointnt.
She looked at him then, eyes glassy, throat bobbled and found him already watching her. His expression was open in a way she hadn’t seen before. Unmasked. Wounded. And maybe a little scared.
For once, neither of them looked away.
Everything they’d been avoiding sat thick in the air between them. No sarcasm. No pretense. Just raw truth, cracked and aching.
rlina shifted slightly, like the weight of the mont was pressing down on her. She hesitated, "Maybe... you’re bored. Or you’re trying to get back at Louis. With ?"
That stopped him cold.
His brow pulled together, not in anger but surprise. Like her words had co from a place he hadn’t even considered. "Is that really what you think this is?"
rlina looked away, not out of defiance, but because she didn’t know what to say, eting his eyes in that mont felt too much, too overwhelming.
Craig’s voice ca quieter, lower. "Then why do you keep letting in?"
She blinked, thrown off guard. "What?"
He took a step closer. "If you think this is just a ga to ...why do you let this close?" His tone was soft, but the ache in it was unmistakable. "In the middle of all the ss we’re both in, why do you let touch parts of you that no one else gets to see?"
Her throat tightened as she fought to hold everything in. The sting in her eyes, the tremble in her chest. It built slowly, painfully, like a wave she couldn’t stop.
And then, barely more than breath, "I don’t know."
Craig swallowed hard. Stepped even closer.
"Why is it so impossible to believe that maybe I feel it too? That this isn’t just so twisted joke for ? Don’t you think you’re judging too harshly?"
rlina stepped back, unable to speak. Her arms wrapped around herself like she needed the barrier, but her eyes were already shimring again.
Craig exhaled, dragging a hand through his hair, fingers tightening at the back of his neck. He looked down for a beat, like the words were lodged sowhere deep. Hard to find, harder to say.
"You think I’d leave my friends, my entire life, and fly all the way to Mallorca for a ga?" His voice cracked, just slightly, as he looked at her. "You think being here is so kind of coincidence?" he said, softer now, almost pleading.
rlina drew in a sharp breath, she looked down at her hands, then up again just enough to et his eyes. Her chest rose and fell in uneven rhythm, like she was fighting sothing inside herself. Her fingers curled into her palm, then loosened, restless.
"I ca here for you," Craig continued. "Because I couldn’t stop thinking about you. I kept checking your page, watching for you. And then I saw your post about the carnival and...I don’t know. Every part of just wanted to be near you."
Her eyes flickered, sothing in her breaking. She didn’t cry, but she looked like she could’ve. Like if she blinked too long, it might all co rushing out. The corner of her mouth trembled. She hated how much she wanted to believe him, hated how much she already did.
"I’ve tried to stay away, believe I have tried to do the right thing. But every ti I see you," he swallowed, eyes locked on hers. "Everyti...it’s like sothing in refuses to let go."
He didn’t touch her. He didn’t move closer. But he looked like he wanted to. Like his whole body was aching to close the space between them, holding itself still out of respect. Or fear. Or restraint.
And she felt it all, the sincerity, the ache, the reckless, quiet hope that maybe... maybe this thing between them was real.
Sothing pulled in her chest, tight and sudden.
"I feel the sa way too," she whispered, and that was it. That was the breaking point. "More than you can imagine...and I’m tired of pretending I don’t."
That broke sothing open. Craig’s expression crumpled with sothing tender as he stepped forward, cupping her face with both hands like she was sothing sacred.
When he kissed her, it wasn’t just want, it was all the missed monts, all the silence, all the feeling too big for words. And this ti, she kissed him with everything she hadn’t been able to admit, letting it spill out in the only way she could.
She gripped his shirt, pulling him closer, grounding herself in the solid weight of him, like she didn’t trust this to be real unless she could feel it, all of it.
They stumbled back toward the bed, mouths never parting, breath shared and desperate. Her hands slid beneath his shirt again, bolder now, palms grazing the hard lines of his back and chest. And then slowly, deliberately, she tugged it upward.
He broke the kiss just long enough for her to pull it over his head, the heat rising in her as she tossed it aside. Craig’s eyes searched hers, his chest rising and falling fast.
"Are you sure?" he murmured, voice wrecked against her skin.
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