BREAKING THE RULES

"You're smiling," Jessie accused, her eyes narrowing. "Don't tell me it's because of Peter."

Christine froze, her hand halfway to her textbook. "I'm not smiling," she said quickly — too quickly.

Jessie sat up on the bed, her arms crossed, looking way too pleased with herself. "Oh, you so are. Spill, Chris. What happened last night?"

"Nothing!" Christine insisted, but the heat rising to her cheeks totally betrayed her. She kept her eyes glued to the open book in front of her, even though she hadn't read a single word.

Jessie's eyebrows shot up. "Nothing? You stayed out late with him, came back practically floating, and now you're grinning like a lovesick idiot. You expect me to believe nothing happened?"

Christine grabbed a pillow and threw it at her. "I am not a lovesick idiot!"

"Denial," Jessie sang, dodging the pillow with a laugh. "The first stage of falling for a guy you swore you wouldn't fall for."

Christine groaned, burying her face in her hands. "This is exactly why I shouldn't tell you anything."

Jessie's laughter softened. "Okay, okay. Seriously though — you like him, don't you?"

Christine hesitated. And that hesitation? It was dangerous.

"Chris," Jessie said, her voice more serious now. "The contract. Remember? You're not supposed to—"

"I know!" Christine snapped, more at herself than Jessie. "I know the rules, Jess."

But even as she said it, the memory of Peter's voice — that soft, husky "Goodnight, Christine. Sweet dreams." — played on repeat in her head.

And she had the sinking feeling she was already breaking them.

"Girl you are up to something," Jessie said, watching Christine with narrowed eyes as she zoned out, lost in thought.

Christine sighed, finally giving in. "Okay, fine — maybe I think about him." She met Jessie's gaze, trying and failing to sound indifferent. "But as much as I don't want to, he keeps coming back with… with this handsome chaos."

Jessie raised an eyebrow. "Thank God we both know how chaotic his humor is."

"That's exactly what I'm trying to avoid," Christine muttered.

Before Jessie could reply, Christine's phone buzzed on the nightstand. Both of them looked at the screen, and of course, his name popped up.

"See?" Christine said, holding up the phone for Jessie to see. "He wouldn't go away even if I paid him."

Jessie smirked. "Oh, you love it."

"Shut up." Christine rolled her eyes and answered the call, already bracing herself.

"Hey, baby girl," Peter's voice came through the line, smooth and playful.

Jessie's jaw dropped. "Baby what now?" she mouthed dramatically.

Christine waved her off, already feeling the heat creep up her neck. "Peter, what do you want?" she asked, trying to sound annoyed — and failing miserably.

Peter chuckled. "Why so hostile, baby girl? Didn't we have fun last night?"

Jessie's eyes went impossibly wide. Christine turned away before her roommate's expression made her burst out laughing. "That's not the point," she hissed. "You're supposed to be busy being mysterious and dangerous. Stop calling me."

Peter just laughed — that warm, lazy laugh that always made her stomach flip. "You know you love it."

Before she could fire back, he added, "Anyway, I'm outside. Come down."

Her heart stopped. "You're what—"

"I'm waiting," he cut in. "Don't keep me waiting too long, baby girl."

And then the line went dead.

Christine stared at the phone like it had just insulted her entire family. Jessie, of course, was already halfway into a meltdown. "He's outside?! Oh my God, Christine! What are you gonna do?"

Christine groaned, grabbing her jacket — then stopped.

"Nope," she said, tossing the jacket back on the bed. "I'm not going anywhere."

Jessie blinked. "Wait—what?"

Christine flopped onto the bed with a frustrated sigh. "I'm tired, Jess. I have a ton of coursework to catch up on, and honestly? I'm not his toy to command whenever he snaps his fingers." She waved the phone in the air. "This whole thing — the flowers, the dates, the constant showing up — it's getting… exhausting."

Jessie tilted her head, studying her. "But… the contract?"

"Exactly!" Christine huffed. "It's just a stupid contract I'm already sick of. I didn't sign up to be his personal entertainment. And if he thinks I'm gonna jump every time he calls—"

Her phone buzzed again.

Jessie burst out laughing. "Oh, this is gonna be fun."

Christine glared at her before answering the call, her voice tight. "Peter, I'm not coming out. I'm tired. I've got work to do. Maybe you should take a hint and give me a break."

For once, there was silence on the other end. Then, in a softer voice than she expected, Peter said, "A break?"

Christine's chest tightened — and she hated that it did. "Yes. A break. And maybe you should remember this is a contract, not some… weird, possessive thing where you get to demand my time whenever you feel like it."

There was a long pause. Then: "okay, I see"

The line went dead again.

Christine stared at the phone, suddenly feeling uneasy

Jessie's eyes were wide. "You think he's mad?"

Christine shrugged, trying to act like she didn't care. "Good. Let him be."

But deep down, she couldn't shake the feeling that she might've just started a storm she wasn't ready for.

*_*

Later that evening, Christine lay sprawled across her bed, staring up at the ceiling in frustration. Jessie sat cross-legged on her own bed, scrolling through her phone, but Christine could feel her glancing over every few seconds — waiting.

Finally, Jessie broke the silence. "Okay, you're gonna have to talk eventually."

Christine groaned. "There's nothing to talk about."

Jessie snorted. "Nothing? You basically told Peter you're tired, you've got coursework to catch up on, and you're not his toy to command. And then you called the contract stupid — right to his face. And his response was 'okay'." She tossed her phone aside. "You're telling me you're not even a little curious why he didn't push back?"

Christine squeezed her eyes shut. "I wanted him to back off, didn't I?"

"Sure. But I saw your face when he said okay." Jessie's voice softened. "You didn't expect him to actually listen."

Christine sighed, rubbing a hand over her face. "It's just weird, okay? He's been all over me for two weeks — flowers, dates, endless texts — and now… nothing. It's like he disappeared."

Jessie tilted her head. "So… you miss him?"

Christine sat up so fast she almost gave herself whiplash. "No! I just—" She struggled for the words. "It's just quiet. Too quiet."

Jessie raised an eyebrow. "Right. Quiet. That's definitely not code for 'I miss him.'"

Christine flopped back onto the bed with a dramatic groan. "I don't care that he's not calling."

"Uh-huh."

"I don't!"

Jessie just gave her a knowing look. "Then why have you checked your phone like, six times in the past hour?"

Christine grabbed a pillow and smacked herself in the face with it. "I hate you."

Jessie grinned. "You love me. And you're losing your mind because Peter finally gave you space."

Christine didn't answer right away. She stared up at the ceiling, her voice soft when she finally spoke. "He's just so… overwhelming when he's around. But now that he's not…" She trailed off, her throat tight.

Jessie's teasing faded into something gentler. "It's suffocating too, isn't it?"

Christine nodded, her voice barely above a whisper. "Should I be worried?"

Jessie was quiet for a moment. "Only if you're falling."

Christine's stomach twisted at the words. And the worst part was — she didn't know the answer so she let jess go back to the attention on her phone in order to avoid unwanted questions which demands answers.

That night, Christine couldn't sleep.

She tossed and turned, the sheets tangling around her legs as her mind ran wild. Every time she closed her eyes, his voice echoed in her head.

"Okay."

Just one word. Simple. Calm. Unbothered. And it was driving her insane.

Why didn't he fight back? Peter always had some smartass remark, some cocky comeback. He was relentless — showing up when she didn't want him to, saying things that made her heart race even when she pretended they didn't. And now, when she finally pushed back… he just let her go.

The silence was deafening.

Christine groaned, flipping her pillow over to the cool side and pressing her face into it. But it didn't help. The stillness of her room made it worse. She'd gotten used to his presence, his chaos. Without it, everything felt too quiet, too… empty.

But isn't this what you wanted? she asked herself. She needed space. She needed to focus on school. She didn't need him or his stupid charm or those eyes that looked at her like they saw right through her.

So why did his absence feel just as suffocating as his presence?

Her phone sat on the nightstand, too close and too far at the same time. She hadn't heard from him since that call — hadn't even seen his name pop up once. And now she was fighting the ridiculous urge to text him.

No. She wasn't going to cave. She wasn't going to chase him. He could disappear for all she cared.

But as the hours ticked by and sleep stayed just out of reach, she couldn't help but wonder…

Is he mad?

Is he done with me?

Why do I even care?