Monday came heavy.
The air on campus buzzed — not with assignments, not with exams — but with the whispers of "Did you see them at the party?"
The balcony moment had become legend.
Some said they were making out like wild things.
Others said they almost… you know.
Angela didn't deny it.
Peter didn't care.
But Sonia did.
---
She met Peter behind Hall 2, where the noise of the hostel couldn't drown her voice.
He smiled when he saw her. "Hey."
She didn't smile back.
That was the first warning.
"I saw you," she said simply.
Peter's face dropped. "Sonia—"
She raised a hand. "Let me talk."
Peter shut up.
"I liked you. You know that. I still do," she began, voice steady. "But I also know how it feels to be someone's second option."
Peter looked away.
"You keep saying you're confused, but confusion doesn't grab someone's thigh on a balcony," Sonia said, bitterness slicing through her calm. "You knew what you were doing. You just didn't care who got hurt."
Peter opened his mouth.
"No need to explain," she added. "Just know this — I'm not your rebound. And she's not your rehab. So pick a side… or stay alone."
And just like that, she walked off.
Dignified.
Heartbroken.
Free.
---
Peter sat through his 11 a.m. class like a ghost.
Angela sat three rows away.
She hadn't looked at him once.
But she was thinking everything.
> He's so stupid.
Why did he let Sonia fall?
Why didn't I stop him that night?
Why am I mad… when I pushed him away first?
The lecturer droned on about audience segmentation.
But Peter had only one focus.
Her.
---
After class, students poured out like water.
Angela stood to leave.
Peter grabbed her wrist.
"Wait."
She turned. "Peter—"
"In here. Now."
Before she could fight it, he pulled her back into the now-empty lecture hall.
Shut the door.
Angela crossed her arms. "What do you want?"
Peter stepped close. "You."
Angela rolled her eyes. "I'm not doing this again."
"Yes, you are," he snapped. "Because I'm done pretending."
She laughed. "Pretending?"
"That I don't want you. That I don't think about you every single damn day. That I didn't feel fire the second I saw you on that balcony. That I didn't want to burn the whole party down when I saw another guy smile at you."
Angela's throat tightened.
"You left me hanging," she said. "You ran to Sonia. You made her feel like more than she was."
"Because I was trying to forget you!" he exploded. "You broke me with your silence. With your sermons. With your stop-start love. I was drowning in self-control!"
Silence.
Angela stared at him. "Then drown."
Peter froze.
And she walked toward the door.
But before she could touch the handle —
He pinned her to the wall.
His lips crashed into hers.
Not gentle.
Not asking for permission.
Claiming.
Angela gasped — shocked at herself for letting it happen.
His hand gripped her waist. Her body gave in.
This was no slow build.
This was everything they'd held back snapping open like thunder.
She kissed him back — hungry. Hands everywhere. Lip gloss smearing. Her breath shaky. His shirt twisted in her fists.
---
Then suddenly… she pulled back.
Eyes wide. Chest heaving.
"This is wrong," she whispered.
Peter leaned in again.
Angela placed a finger on his lips.
"But it feels like home," she added softly.
Then she ran.
Again.
But this time…
She wanted him to chase her.