Chapter 7- You Can't Hurt Stone

Author's POV

When a boy who once worshipped you finally stops flinching at your touch,

When your body pressed against his no longer gets a reaction,

That's not strength.

That's the beginning of your own unraveling.

Lily Watson was used to people chasing her, folding for her, crying over her.

She didn't know what to do with silence that couldn't be broken.

And Ace Adams?

He didn't need to raise his voice to ruin her.

He just needed to stay quiet long enough for her to hear her own cruelty echo.

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Lily's POV

I slammed the door shut behind us, locked it, pulled off my jacket like I was about to win a war.

I pushed him into the chair, straddled him, hands already beneath his collar, desperate to remind him of what I thought I still owned.

His skin was warm, but his stare was frozen.

He didn't stop me when I unbuttoned his shirt, didn't stop me when I kissed down his neck, didn't stop me when my fingers reached his belt.

But he didn't help either.

He didn't touch me like he used to—like I was precious.

He just sat there, breathing slow, letting me do what I wanted, and it made me feel disgusting.

So I kissed him harder, dragged his hand to my waist, tried to light that fire again, but it was gone.

He wasn't cold.

He was dead inside, and that was worse.

"Say something," I whispered, already halfway undressed, chest rising and falling like I was suffocating in the silence.

He looked at me—slow, calm, haunted.

"I feel nothing when I touch you," he said.

And I swear that single sentence sliced through every part of me I didn't even know could bleed.

So I snapped.

"If you feel nothing, then why are you still here?" I spat, shoving him back, trembling.

"Because you need to know what it's like to be used," he said.

I slapped him.

And he smiled.

That smile ruined me.

Because it wasn't smug.

It was empty.

I shoved him again, cursed him, screamed "You're just a charity case I got bored of—what kind of idiot falls in love with a dare?"

And I watched his face—

The flicker.

That one second.

The final second.