Lana sat cross-legged on her bed, spoon in one hand, a half-melted tub of vanilla ice cream in the other.
Her phone kept lighting up with unread messages from Mick — and she ignored every single one.
> "You know, if you keep eating ice cream whenever you're confused, you'll be frozen solid by thirty," Lily teased, dropping onto the bed beside her.
Lana gave a small laugh, though her eyes stayed on the screen.
> "Maybe that's better than being confused."
Lily raised an eyebrow.
> "Is this about him again?"
Lana didn't answer right away. She set the spoon down, leaned her head against the wall, and sighed.
> "I don't get him, Lil. One second he's cold and unreadable, and the next… he's so warm I forget why I'm even mad."
> "Sounds like a Leo Ayden thing," Lily said knowingly. "He's the kind who doesn't show, but feels too much."
Lana's lips curved into a small smile — the kind that hid more than it showed.
> "He makes me feel seen. But also… small. Like he knows something I don't."
> "Do you like him?"
Lana looked away.
> "It's not about liking. It's about… finishing what I started."
Lily's teasing smile faded.
> "Lana, are you sure this plan of yours won't end up hurting you instead?"
Silence.
The only sound was the clink of the spoon hitting the empty tub.
Lana whispered,
> "It already has."
---
That night, as Lily fell asleep beside her, Lana stared at the ceiling — the shadows of the fan slicing through her thoughts.
She remembered the way Leo looked at her earlier that day.
Not like a man seeing a woman…
But like a storm seeing a matchstick.
And deep down, for the first time, she was scared — not of losing, but of feeling too much.