Angel's POV
Opening my eyes, I sat up and stretched—or at least tried to. My back had other plans. The sharp ache that shot through me was its not-so-gentle reminder that today wasn't a stretch-friendly day.
Groaning, I summoned the strength of a thousand ancestors to stand again, dragging my aching body toward the bathroom to relieve my bladder.
And then it hit me.
I screamed.
No, like, actually screamed.
"What the heck did I do?! Why did I agree to go out with him?! Him of all people! He's an actual walking, talking asshole! I mean—we just agreed to be civil, and now somehow I'm going out with him?! Like a hangout? A hangout-hangout?? Did I mention he's an asshole?!"
Panic spiraled.
"Wait, wait, wait—hold on. If he asked me to go out with him… that means it's just gonna be the two of us, right? Just me and him. Does that count as a date? Is this a date?! No—it can't be. Right? RIGHT?"
"Angel."
"He doesn't like me that way. He doesn't feel that way for me. Right?!"
"ANGEL!"
I jumped at the voice and froze. My mother stood at the doorway, arms crossed and eyebrows threatening to launch into orbit.
"Yes?" I squeaked out looking sheepish.
"Why are you hell-bent on rupturing everyone's eardrums this morning?"
"Um…nothing?"
She narrowed her eyes. "Do not make me ask again. And what's all this nonsense about he doesn't even feel that way for me ?"
Sighing, I pulled her into my room and sat her down on the edge of the bed. She already knew I liked him— I mean it's Mum, of course she knew. So I spilled. The entire mess. Word vomit edition.
By the time I was done, her eyes were practically sparkling. Like—twinkling stars-in-the-sky level sparkle. If that was humanly possible
"So that's what happened" I finished, huffing dramatically.
She gasped. "Girl, that sounds like a date."
"Right?! I thought so too!" I lit up like a candle.
"But he also has a girlfriend."
And there it was. The crash. My heart dropped so fast it needed a seatbelt.
"Yeah," I mumbled. "I thought about that too."
"But hey—leave that mess behind. Enjoy yourself today" she said, brushing my hair from my face.
"How can I enjoy myself when just being close to him sends my heart into a full-blown meltdown?"
"I know the feeling. I've been there."
I rolled my eyes. "Mum, please don't bring up your love story with Dad again. I can recite it from memory like it's scripture."
She laughed. "Fair. But what I meant is—sometimes you've just got to let go of your worries and go with the flow."
"And what if the flow becomes a tsunami?"
"Then ride the wave, darling."
I looked down, blinking away the sting in my eyes. "I just… I really want things to work out this time. I'm so tired of the drama. If he messes this up again—I swear, I'll shut everything out. Him. My feelings. Everyone."
She reached over and squeezed my hand. "Let's hope it doesn't come to that."
Just then, Dad burst into the room, wild-eyed like he'd been chased.
"Hey, sweetheart, are you okay?! It got real quiet all of a sudden. I thought your mother might've finally lost it and murdered our only child."
I blinked. Once.Twice. "Dad. What the heck?"
Mum glared at him so hard, I could feel the heat from her stare.
"Dad, come on. Mum loves me too much to kill me."
"I know! Probably more than she loves me. But if you were there when she started yelling about bringing heaven down to punish the person screaming, you'd probably be on your way to Colombia to escape her wrath—"
"Emmanuel." Mum snapped, stepping forward with the threat of violence in her smile.
He backed away so fast. "I-I misspoke, dear! Angel's safe, so I'm off! Downstairs! Love you! Bye!"
Mum narrowed her eyes, then turned to me. "I'll be back. Let me deal with that mischievous husband of mine."
"Okay, Mum. Try not to kill him. We do still need him after all." I shouted after her.
"I'll try, but no promises! And breakfast'll be ready soon!"
Grinning, I finally made it to the bathroom—this time, no screaming.
After a quick bath, I picked out my outfit: black jeans, black top. Simple. Bold. My forever vibe. I loved black. Sue me.
Slinging my phone into my back pocket, I headed downstairs. Mum was already dressed and eating. Dad had vanished like mist.
"Where's Dad?"
"Oh, that one? He's gone to work."
"That one is your husband."
"And also your father." she added with a wink, and we both burst into laughter.
God, it felt good to laugh again.
"You calmed down yet?" she asked gently.
"Yeah. I'm good."
"That's what I like to hear."
"What time is it?"
"Let me see... 11:52 a.m."
My stomach flipped. "He'll be here soon."
She raised a brow. "Oh?"
"I'll call him to confirm anyway."
She stood and kissed my forehead. "Have fun, baby. I'm off to work."
"Love you!"
"Love you more!"
"I know." I mumbled with a smile. And I meant it. I know my parents loved me and I love them too, I didn't need anyone else to be happy, not when I had parents like mine.
Finishing my food, I glanced at the clock—12:30?! Had I really been eating that long? Damn!
Ding-dong.
The doorbell yanked me out of my thoughts. I opened it... and froze.
Samuel stood there. Disheveled. Teary-eyed. Furious. Like he'd been hit by a truck. Not once but twice.
"What the hell happened to you?! You look like a rejected extra from a soap opera."
He didn't answer. He just stepped forward and collapsed into me, hugging me with the weight of the world in his arms. Then—he started sobbing.
"S-she.. hiccup she confessed—hiccup confessed to me… herself."
"What?"
"She told me herself!"
"Who? What did she tell you?"
"Lizzy."
I guided him into my room and sat him down.
"She called this morning," he said, voice cracking. "Said she was coming over."
"And?"
"I told her to hurry up because we were supposed to go out."
"And then?"
"She started being dramatic—so I told her to either come and talk or shut up and piss off."
I smothered a laugh. Barely.
"She came. She accused me of cheating on her. With you."
"Wow." I was.... flabbergasted
"I told her, what the hell? You just waltz into my house and accuse me of cheating?. Then she said I never cared about her and that's why she cheated."
My mouth dropped open so wide an egg could fit. "Wait. She did it again?"
"Apparently. This time it's Michael. Some guy she met like... two days ago."
"Wow. He's a jerk. She's a bitch. Perfect match."
"Don't say that."
"You wanna defend her, get out. If not, you're sitting here and watching a movie with me while eating ice cream."
"I'm not really feeling like ice cream right now."
"Too bad. Nobody asked."
I dragged him downstairs, shoved him onto the couch, and put on a random movie while I fetched my sacred tub of ice cream.
That was the first mistake I made that day
"You're paying me back for this, by the way." I muttered
"Mhm."
"Did you even hear me?"
"Mhm."
"Whatever."
Halfway through the movie, Samuel was already cuddled up at my side—or rather, glued to me like he was trying to become a second skin. Every time I shifted away, he just followed, inch by inch, until I gave up. His head was resting lightly on my shoulder, warm breath fanning against my neck, and I was doing everything humanly possible not to combust.
Then a romantic scene popped up on screen. You know the type—rain pouring, confessions flying, and a kiss that looked like it could raise the dead. I tensed up. He noticed.
Samuel shifted slightly, eyes drifting from the screen to me. Our gazes locked, and suddenly, the air between us crackled.
His eyes dropped to my lips.
And then he leaned in.
I forgot how to breathe.
His lips brushed mine—softly, cautiously—like he was asking for permission he already knew I'd give. A shiver ran down my spine, and I froze. He kissed me again, firmer this time. I kissed him back.
It was slow, hesitant... like neither of us wanted to admit how long we'd waited for this. Like if we rushed it, it'd shatter.
His hands found my face, cradling it gently, thumbs tracing the curve of my cheekbones like he was memorizing me. I clutched at his hoodie like a lifeline, melting into the warmth of him. There was sweetness from the ice cream on his lips, but also the salt of his earlier tears, the heat of something deeper, buried and burning.
I felt it in my chest.
In my bones.
In my soul.
My heart thudded so loudly I thought he could hear it. And still, I didn't pull away. I didn't want to. That was the second mistake I made that day.
In that moment, everything stopped—no past, no future. Just us, wrapped in something I didn't dare name.
But the moment was fleeting.
As I tilted my head, just about to pull him closer, he stilled.
Then he pulled back.
Fast.
"Uhm... kitten—sorry, I mean, Angel. I really am sorry."
My heart, still dancing in my chest, stumbled.
"It's okay. I'm not angry," I lied, my voice small, trembling like a violin string stretched too tight.
"That was a mistake. I made a mistake." he said, and it cut like ice. "It shouldn't have happened. It won't happen again. I just... got carried away."
My heart froze.
"Mistake?" I echoed, voice trembling.
His face fell as if just realizing what he said. "Angel—"
"Get out."
"Please—"
"I said GET OUT."
He left.
The second the door closed, I crumbled. My knees gave out and I stumbled to my room, collapsed on my bed, and stared blankly at the wall.
Tears fell silently. My chest ached like it was breaking apart from the inside out.
Mum came back from work and tried to talk to me but I didn't answer her. I didn't say a word, I just kept looking like a soulless puppet.
Days blurred together.
I ignored his calls. Dodged our friends. Skipped classes, they weren't important anyways.
Every moment hurt, but the thought of seeing him again?
It hurt worse. A lot worse