Kiss that leads to break

The morning greeted me with a dull grey sky, raindrops sliding lazily down the windowpane like the tears I refused to shed.

The world outside seemed to echo the heaviness in my chest, as if the weather had taken it upon itself to reflect my mood.

I stared at the ceiling, my thoughts chasing each other in circles like restless shadows. Layla's voice lingered in my mind sharp, distant, accusing.

It had been days since that argument. Days since she'd looked at me with warmth instead of that guarded, cold indifference.

My chest ached with the weight of what I couldn't say to her that day. What could I say now? Was it too late to fix what felt irreparably broken?

I swung my legs over the side of the bed, rubbing the stiffness from my neck. The villa was quiet, save for the faint patter of rain and the occasional creak of old wood. Normally, the quiet soothed me. Today, it suffocated me.