I froze.

The sound of his voice cut through the air like a blade.

I turned around.

Johan.

My whole body locked up.

Muscles stiff. Mouth dry. Heart pounding so loud I could hear it in my ears.

He stood a few paces away, tall and unmoving, shadows pooling beneath his eyes like bruises. His expression wasn’t blank. It was dark. Murderous. The look in his eyes made the hair on my arms rise.

"I always wondered," he said slowly, voice like ice cracking, “why you kept chasing me even after I humiliated you.”

His voice wasn’t loud — it didn’t have to be. Every syllable hit me like a slap to the face. Sharp. Precise. Meant to hurt.

The expression on his face was unreadable — not blank, not angry.

Dark. Controlled. Cold.

His eyes glittered beneath furrowed brows — not with hate, not entirely, but something so close it made my knees weak. And beneath that, something else. Something raw. Quiet. Wounded.

Something I couldn’t understand.

I tried to speak, lips parting. “Phi—”

But the word barely made it out.
No sound. Just the shape of it on my tongue, breathless and broken.

He took a single step forward.

Slow.
Measured.
Like a lion approaching something already half-dead.

I instinctively stumbled back. My heel caught in the uneven grass, and I landed hard on one knee, palms scraping the ground behind me as I tried to keep upright.

Around me, I felt my friends tense.
Phoon had gone dead silent.
Dao stood frozen mid-step.
Easter looked like he wanted to say something but couldn’t find the courage.

No one moved.
No one spoke.
Not with that look in Johan’s eyes.

His gaze never left mine.

“Did you have fun?” he asked, voice barely above a whisper.

And somehow, that quietness was more terrifying than if he’d screamed.

It made my blood run cold.

Then — in one sudden, brutal motion — he reached down, fisted the front of my shirt, and hauled me to my feet.

A startled gasp escaped me before I could stop it.

The world tilted. My balance faltered. And then I was chest-to-chest with him, standing only because he held me there.

His breath ghosted hot against my cheek.
His hand was like iron, curled into the fabric at my collar.
I could feel the tremor running through him — the way his anger wasn’t loud but vibrating just beneath the surface like something lethal.

My hands flew to his wrist on instinct, but I didn’t push him away.
Couldn’t.
I was too caught in the hurricane of his presence.

His voice dropped, low and dangerous. “You think this is funny?”

My mouth opened. “I—I don’t—”

His free hand shot up and gripped my chin, forcing my face up toward his.

The move was rough. Unkind. Cruel.

His thumb pressed just under my jaw, tilting my head.
His touch burned.
And yet, like the stupid fool I was, I leaned into it.

Even if it hurt.
Even if it bruised.

Because it was him.

“You toyed with me,” he spat, voice a whip crack in the quiet. “Flirted. Teased. You made me think—” He broke off, jaw tightening, nostrils flaring. “And the whole time it was just some twisted little game to you?”

“No,” I breathed, barely audible. “No, it’s not like that.”

“Then explain it,” he snapped. “Explain the dare.”

“I—I didn’t mean—”

“Explain why you started.”

I tried to swallow, but my throat was too dry.

His face was so close I could see the smallest details — the sweat on his temple, the crack in his bottom lip, the pain swimming just behind all that rage.

I took a shaky breath. “You’re misunderstanding. Phi… yes. It started with a dare.”

His whole body tensed.

His grip on my shirt went tighter.

His eyes burned like gasoline meeting fire.

“But…” I forced myself to keep going, voice cracking on the words, “I fell in love with you. I didn’t mean to. I swear to God, I love you.”

Silence.

Thick.
Oppressive.
Endless.

He didn’t move.

Didn’t even blink.

Just stared at me like I’d set a match to the floor and watched the world burn around us.

And then — he laughed.

Not really a laugh. More like a bitter exhale through his nose, a scoff laced with disbelief and something cruel.

“Phi—” I tried again, desperate.

“Don’t,” he cut me off, voice like shattered glass. “Don’t say that.”

The words hit harder than a scream.

He let go of me like I was nothing. Like touching me had been a mistake.

I stumbled backward. My legs barely held me.
My shirt hung rumpled and twisted, collar askew where he’d gripped it.
I felt… exposed. Stripped bare. Like he’d seen everything I didn’t want anyone to see and judged me for all of it.

But still, I stepped forward.

Still, I reached.

“P’Johan,” I whispered. “Please…”

He didn’t look at me.

Didn’t speak.

Just stood there, shoulders tense, hands clenched at his sides like he was fighting not to destroy something.

“I didn’t mean to hurt you,” I said. “I know that doesn’t mean anything now, but I swear—I didn’t mean—”

“Fuck off .”

The tone in his voice was final.

Sharp. Cold. Devastating.

I bit my lip so hard I tasted blood.

His eyes found mine one last time — dark, unreadable, filled with something sharp and trembling on the edge of too much.

And then, without a sound, he turned his back to me.

Walked away.

No shouting.
No slamming doors.
No thrown fists or curses.

Just quiet, decisive footsteps retreating into the distance.

And somehow, that hurt more than anything else.

Because he wasn’t just angry.

He was done.

And I really messed up.

And that…
That shattered something in me I didn’t know could break.

________________

Author's note-

This story is gonna end soon just a little more bcs I am still working on the last few chapters so you might have to patiently wait.  :)