Chapter 3- What Lingers In Silence

Belle POV

The house didn’t feel like home anymore.

It hadn’t for a long time.

Belle stepped inside quietly, closing the door behind her with the same care she used for everything else in her life—gentle, controlled, unnoticed.

Her phone buzzed in her hand.

She didn’t need to look.

She already knew.

Still—

Her screen lit up.

Mom calling…

Her fingers tightened slightly around the phone.

It rang.

And rang.

Then stopped.

A second later—

Dad calling…

Belle exhaled slowly, her expression unreadable.

She watched it this time.

Watched the name.

Watched the screen glow.

Watched it fade.

Ignored.

A message popped up almost immediately after.

She didn’t open it.

Didn’t need to.

Because whatever it said… it would sound the same.

Come downstairs.

We need to talk.

Belle, please.

Her jaw clenched slightly.

They lost the right to ask.

A long time ago.

From the living room, their voices carried faintly through the house.

Low.

Heavy.

“…she’s ignoring us again,” her mother’s voice cracked softly.

A pause.

Her father sighed. “She used to talk to me.”

That one—

That one almost made her stop.

Almost.

But Belle moved anyway.

Past them.

Past the voices.

Past the weight.

Up the stairs.

Each step quieter than the last.

Like she was trying not to exist.

Her room door closed with a soft click.

And just like that—

The world outside disappeared.

Belle leaned against the door, eyes shut, breathing in slowly.

This was her space.

Her silence.

Her escape.

No expectations.

No disappointment.

No memories she didn’t invite.

Or at least…

That’s what she told herself.

She pushed off the door and walked to her bed, reaching for her headphones without hesitation.

Routine.

Safe.

Familiar.

She slipped them on, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear as her phone lit up again.

Another message.

She ignored it.

Opened her music instead.

Her thumb hovered over her playlist.

Favorites.

A small pause.

Then—

Tap.

The song started.

Soft.

Slow.

And instantly—

Her body stilled.

That voice.

She knew it.

Too well.

Her breath caught slightly as the lyrics began to play, wrapping around her like something she couldn’t escape.

Him.

Her ex.

The one she tried not to think about.

The one she never really forgot.

Her expression shifted before she could stop it.

The calm… slipped.

Her eyes softened.

Then dimmed.

Pain—quiet, familiar—settled into her features like it had been waiting.

“I shouldn’t have…” she whispered under her breath.

But she didn’t stop the song.

Couldn’t.

Because every word felt like a memory.

Late-night conversations that stretched into morning.

Laughter that felt like home.

Promises whispered like they would last forever.

But didn’t.

Belle sat down slowly on her bed, her fingers tightening around her phone.

Her chest ached.

Not sharp.

Not overwhelming.

Just… constant.

Like something missing that never came back.

She lay down, staring at the ceiling as the music played on.

Her eyes shimmered slightly, but no tears fell.

She wasn’t the crying type.

Not anymore.

But the feeling?

It was there.

Heavy.

Unspoken.

“I miss you…” she murmured softly, barely audible even to herself.

And for a moment—

Just a moment—

She let herself feel.

Ethan POV

Ethan didn’t like loose ends.

He liked control.

Predictability.

Knowing exactly how things would play out.

People were easy like that.

You pushed—

They reacted.

You looked—

They folded.

You spoke—

They listened.

Simple.

So why—

Why was he still thinking about her?

Ethan sat in his car, one hand resting on the steering wheel, the other tapping absently against the door.

The engine was off.

But he hadn’t left.

Not yet.

His mind replayed the moment.

Her voice.

Calm.

Unbothered.

“You showed up late. You don’t get to claim it.”

A slow smirk pulled at his lips.

No fear.

No hesitation.

No attempt to impress him.

Just… truth.

Blunt.

Unfiltered.

His fingers stilled.

That wasn’t normal.

Not around him.

Not with him.

He tilted his head back slightly, staring at the roof of the car as her face slipped into his thoughts again.

The way she looked at him—

Not like he was someone to avoid, just like he was nothing

And he finds that intriguing.

He wanted to see what was beneath that cold gazeand break it.

Even him was confused at himself at why he was so interested in her

Well he knows that she doesn't give a damn about the do's and don't in the school

And somehow that go him thinking??

Should he. Or not.