A Widening Distance

The silence between them stretched into the following days, thick and suffocating, like a wall neither of them was willing to break.

It was different from their usual disagreements. Before, whenever they clashed, there was always something underneath it—an unspoken certainty that no matter how sharp their words got, they'd always find their way back to each other. But this time, it felt different. The distance wasn't just in their arguments; it was in the way they looked at each other. Like they weren't sure if the version of the other they had in their heads still existed.

And Caesar hated it.

He hated the way Blythe could still laugh in class, still joke with their friends, still go on like nothing had changed. Meanwhile, he sat in his seat, stiff and silent, pretending not to notice how easily she moved through the world without him.

Maybe this was what he wanted.

Maybe this was what he had caused.

But it didn't feel like winning.

It felt like losing something he hadn't even realized he needed.

It finally exploded one afternoon in the school courtyard.

They had been dancing around the inevitable fight for days, exchanging clipped words and cold glances whenever they were forced to interact. But when Caesar spotted Blythe leaning against the fence, scrolling through her phone while Felix stood beside her, laughing at something on his screen, something in him snapped.

He wasn't jealous.

He refused to call it jealousy.

But the sight of her standing there so casually, as if nothing was wrong, as if he wasn't sitting in the mess of everything that had been left unsaid—it infuriated him.

Before he could think better of it, he was already walking toward her.

Blythe looked up just as he stopped in front of her, and for a split second, surprise flickered in her blue eyes.

Then, just as quickly, her expression cooled.

Felix, sensing the shift in atmosphere, glanced between them. "Uh, I'll catch you later, Blythe."

She nodded, slipping her phone into her pocket, and then they were alone.

Caesar wasted no time. "So that's it, huh?"

Blythe tilted her head, unimpressed. "What are you talking about?"

"You just decided you don't care anymore?" His voice was sharper than he intended, but he didn't bother softening it.

Blythe blinked, then let out a short, disbelieving laugh. "Are you serious right now?"

Caesar clenched his jaw. "You don't even try anymore. You act like none of this matters, like I don't—" He cut himself off, hating how unsteady his voice sounded.

Blythe stared at him for a long moment. Then, she shook her head, arms crossing over her chest. "You don't get to act like the victim here, Caesar. You started this. You pushed me away. And now you're mad that I stopped chasing after you?"

His fingers curled into fists at his sides. "I didn't—"

"Oh, please," she interrupted, voice laced with frustration. "Do you even hear yourself? You've been acting like you barely tolerate me, and now you're mad that I finally stopped trying to make you talk to me?"

Caesar felt his chest tighten. "That's not—"

"Not what?" she shot back. "Not fair? News flash, Caesar—neither is the way you've been treating me."

For a moment, neither of them spoke. The sounds of the courtyard faded into the background, drowned out by the weight of everything hanging between them.

Then, Caesar exhaled sharply, shaking his head. "You don't get it."

Blythe scoffed. "Oh, I don't get it?"

"You wouldn't understand."

Her eyes flashed. "Then maybe you should explain instead of expecting me to read your mind."

Caesar hesitated.

He wanted to. He really, really did. But every time he tried to put his feelings into words, they got tangled up in his throat, too messy to make sense of.

And Blythe—Blythe was looking at him like she was waiting. Like she wanted to understand.

But he stayed silent.

And that silence said everything.

Blythe's expression shifted, something like realization settling over her features. And when she spoke again, her voice was quieter. "That's what I thought."

She turned to leave.

This time, Caesar didn't stop her.

Because maybe he finally understood that she wouldn't stop for him, either.