All Chapters of Whispers Through the Wall: Chapter 51 - Chapter 60

Summer heat hung in the air, a tight second skin as Ethan walked back and forth in his apartment. Every step he took was like trying to snuff out a flame that wouldn't die. The thud of his heart echoed as a drumbeat in his head, unending and insistent. Sienna's words from before—crisp and frigid as splintered glass—echoed inside his head."You wouldn't understand."The way she had spoken, with that smile on her lips and eyes holding something which was not mockery and not quite sympathy, had been enough to rip what little control he had. He couldn't sleep. Couldn't sit. Couldn't think without seeing her face looming in like a ghost.He leaned against the window, fists folded over his chest as he stared out at the city. Neon lights buzzed in the distance, creating squares of light among the shadows, but all Ethan could see was her. Sienna. Wild and enigmatic. infuriating and impossible to shake from his mind.How could anyone so unkempt, so full of contradiction, take up this much spac

Ethan sat on the fire escape, his knees drawn to his chest as city lights pulsed below the darkness of the night. The iron under his bottom was cold, but the fire in his brain, preoccupied with Sienna, burned like fever. The words they'd just exchanged hours earlier replayed in his mind—every smirk, every dismissal, every look into her eyes that conveyed more than any words ever would.He couldn't sleep.Her voice remained in him. Not just the scornful tone she used when she told him he wouldn't understand, but the tremble behind it—the fragility she made such an effort to hide.What was she hiding?He gazed at the windows of her apartment that were still lit up. A faint shadow moved behind the drapes. She was lying awake too.Maybe she couldn't sleep either.He panted slowly and leaned his head on the rusty railing. He had not rebuked her to shame her. He only wanted to understand. But she had closed him out once more, turning her pain into armor.And still, he couldn't help but reme

Silence between Ethan and Sienna was deafening.Days passed since their last argument. Ethan hadn't been looking for answers, not really. What he'd really wanted was something he couldn't put into words—a bridge of understanding from his confusion to her defiance. But Sienna? She'd learned to be a mystery expert, giving him just enough to keep him coming and then shutting him out again.And now the air between their walls snapped with unspoken words and unmet tension. Every step above them, every creak of the boards, every sweep of the air across the weathered windows felt amplified, burdened.Ethan sat on his bed, knees bent, elbows on knees, fingers through matted hair. His apartment seemed cramped, too quiet for the constant city din beyond the windows. The worst part wasn't the quiet; it was the relentless barrage of thoughts. Sienna dominated his mind like a song playing on repeat—annoying, haunting, and addictive.He sprang to his feet, unable to sit, and paced.The memory of he

The apartment was quiet, but not peaceful. The stillness now carried a weight to it—dense, oppressive, and heavy with the shadows of all that had gone unspoken.Ethan leaned on the end of his bed, knees bent and elbows resting, hands knotted in a compact fist as he scowled at the carpet. His mind was a battlefield, destruction casting over every single one of them. Sienna had come for him personally, but he'd been so vulnerable to his own questions, all his nerves standing on edge. She'd tossed them back in his face like knives, emotionless, impassive.And he couldn't lose her.Every inch of his body ached for answers. Why she was like this. Why she couldn't help looking at him with that maddening mix of remoteness and defiance. Why it felt as though she desired him to care—and punished him when he did.The distance between their apartments might have been a continent. He hadn't seen her since that night. The one when she slammed the door in his face with that smirk—that damn smirk th

The next morning after their fight was thick with silence. Ethan sat at the small kitchen table in his dark apartment, a steaming cup of coffee untouched in front of him. The atmosphere was heavy, as if the walls themselves remembered the tension from last night.He hadn't slept. He'd closed his eyes every few seconds, but he only saw Sienna's sneer, the bite in her tone, the repetition of her words that jangled around his head: *\"You wouldn't understand.\"*He had wished to be angry, and he was—not at her. Not exactly. At himself. For being too close. For caring where he shouldn't. For allowing a fantasy to masquerade as a truth he always knew to exist but would not see.Down the hallway, her door remained closed. No music. No footsteps. No laughter. Only silence. Unnatural. And unnerving.He looked at his phone. Blank. Not that he had been expecting anything. Nevertheless, the emptiness stung.Ethan pushed away from the table and stood. The chair scraped loudly on the floor, shatte