The door creaked softly as Xavier slipped into the house, the dim lighting masking the storm of emotions brewing in his chest. His steps were slow, deliberate, but he stiffened when he heard his mother's sharp intake of breath.
"Xavier, what happened?" Laura's voice was tinged with panic as she rushed toward him, her eyes immediately locking onto the dark bruise swelling on his cheek. "Did you get into a fight?"
She cupped his face gently, trying to examine the injury up close. The warmth of her hands contrasted against his cold, clammy skin, and for a brief moment, guilt flared in his chest.
"It's nothing," Xavier muttered, leaning slightly away from her touch, but his words lacked conviction. He turned his head, trying to shield his face from her worried gaze.
Laura, however, wasn't one to back down. "You call this nothing?" she shot back, her tone rising as her fingers brushed over the bruise, earning a wince from Xavier. "You're clearly hurt. You can't keep dismissing me like this!"
"Mom, I *said* it's nothing!" Xavier snapped, his voice sharp enough to slice through the tension. The words hung heavy in the air, and Laura flinched as though he'd struck her.
The moment her eyes widened in hurt, regret clawed at him. Xavier's jaw clenched, and he exhaled slowly, running a hand through his hair. When he spoke again, his tone was softer, gentler. "I'm sorry… I didn't mean to yell. I'm fine, I promise. It's from training." He forced a small smile, though it didn't reach his eyes. "I'm okay."
Laura studied him, her lips pressing into a thin line. She didn't believe him, not entirely, but she also knew better than to push. Xavier was like a fortress—one you couldn't storm without causing cracks. "Alright, honey," she murmured with a sigh, stepping back. "If you say so."
But as she watched him retreat up the stairs, her heart ached. Day by day, she saw the walls around him grow higher, his emotions locked away where she couldn't reach them. She felt powerless, her own son slipping farther from her grasp.
---
Xavier slammed the door to his room shut, leaning against it for a moment as he raked his fingers through his hair. Frustration burned through him, his fists clenching at the memory of tonight's failure. The plan to get DH had crumbled before their eyes, and now Travis was dead.
"Useless," he muttered to himself, pacing the room like a caged animal. His mind replayed the events, the chaos, the loss of control. It was infuriating. And then, amidst the noise in his head, an image slipped through the cracks.
Kamsi.
The thought of her hit him like a stray bullet, stopping him in his tracks. His brows furrowed as her name echoed in his mind, unbidden. Why the hell was she haunting him now? Of all times? He gritted his teeth, willing the memory of her soft, defiant gaze to disappear, but it only grew louder.
"Damn it," he hissed under his breath.
Before he could stop himself, his legs moved of their own accord. Stepping onto his balcony, he let the cold night air cool his heated skin. His eyes shifted to the balcony next to his, the one that belonged to her.
Her lights were still on, the faint glow spilling into the night. Was she awake? Probably not. It was well past 11. He should turn back, bury these ridiculous urges to check on her. But the pull was undeniable, and like a moth drawn to a flame, he found himself climbing over the railing.
His landing was silent, smooth, years of practice making him light on his feet. Peering through the glass door, he spotted her immediately.
Kamsi sat slumped over her desk, her head resting on a pile of open books, her soft breaths fogging the surface of the table. Her dark lashes fanned against her cheeks, her features relaxed in the vulnerability of sleep.
A lazy fool, he thought, but the insult lacked its usual venom. Instead, a small, involuntary smile tugged at his lips.
Xavier leaned closer, his gaze tracing the curve of her face, the delicate line of her neck. And then, an unfamiliar, maddening urge bloomed within him. He wanted to touch her. Not just touch—kiss her.
The thought sent a jolt through him, and he stepped back, cursing under his breath. What the hell was wrong with him? She hated him. He was the reason she'd been attacked. Guilt churned in his gut, heavy and unrelenting. He couldn't stay here, couldn't give in to whatever this was.
With one last glance at her sleeping form, he turned and climbed back to his balcony. But just as his feet touched the ground, he heard a faint rustle.
---
Kamsi stirred, her eyes fluttering open. The room was quiet, but she swore she'd felt something—someone. Her brows furrowed as she scanned her surroundings, but everything appeared untouched. Shaking her head, she stood and walked to the glass door.
The cool night air seeped in through the crack she'd left open. With a small frown, she locked it firmly and drew the curtains shut, her movements slow and deliberate. Her heart settled as the feeling of unease faded.
Turning back to her desk, she sighed at the mess of books scattered across its surface. She stacked them neatly before switching off the light and climbing into bed.
Outside, on his own balcony, Xavier sat in the shadows, his hands clenched tightly as he stared at the glass door she'd just locked. The urge to see her still lingered, his thoughts a tangled web of guilt and longing.
But for now, the girl next door was out of reach.
The morning light streamed weakly through Kamsi's curtains, but the warmth of the sun did nothing to alleviate the sharp ache twisting in her lower stomach. Her body curled instinctively as a low groan escaped her lips. She hated the first day of her period—the way it seemed to drag her down, pulling energy from her limbs before she even stepped out of bed.
But she had no choice. Missing school wasn't an option, not with how much she was struggling to keep up. Gritting her teeth, she forced herself upright, the pain pulsing with every movement. She got dressed in slow, deliberate motions and shuffled downstairs, surprised to see Zendaya already setting the table with her mother.
"Good morning, Mom," Kamsi greeted, trying to sound cheerful despite the dull ache making her voice tight. She turned to her best friend. "Hey, girl." Her smile was small but genuine.
"Morning, dear. How are you?" Mrs. Chibuike asked, pausing to glance at her daughter.
"Fine," Kamsi replied too quickly, brushing the question away.
Zendaya joined her at the table, her observant eyes narrowing as she leaned closer. "You okay?" she whispered.
"Yeah... just dysmenorrhea," Kamsi muttered, forcing her back to straighten.
"Oof. Sorry, babe. Did you take anything for it?"
Kamsi shook her head. "No, I'll be fine."
Zendaya wasn't convinced, her lips pressing into a thin line, but she let it go. "Alright. But don't push yourself, okay?"
The words lingered even as breakfast wrapped up and Mrs. Chibuike dropped them off at school. Kamsi clutched her bag strap tightly as the pain gnawed at her insides, each step heavier than the last. By the time they reached the locker area, she was already bracing herself against the cool metal for support.
---
The midday sun blazed down on the court, the heat amplifying the ache that had steadily grown worse for Kamsi. Her teammates were buzzing with excitement as the coach explained the tug-of-war rules, but Kamsi barely heard a word. She kept her eyes on the rope in front of her, her nails digging into her palms as if that could anchor her focus.
"You good?" Zendaya asked quietly, nudging her shoulder.
Kamsi nodded, her face pale. "Yeah," she said, though her voice lacked conviction.
The boys lined up opposite them, all smirks and swagger. Among them, Xavier's gaze locked onto her, his brow furrowed in what might've been concern—or curiosity. Kamsi didn't know, and she wasn't in the mood to care.
"Let's go!" the coach barked, and the game began.
The girls tugged fiercely, their sneakers scraping against the court as they strained against the boys' collective strength. Kamsi gritted her teeth, her hands burning as the rough rope bit into her palms. The rhythmic chanting and cheers around her turned to static as a sharp, stabbing pain shot through her abdomen.
Her vision blurred, the rope slipping slightly from her grasp. "Hold on, Kamsi!" someone shouted, but the sound was distant, like it was coming from underwater.
She blinked, her breathing shallow and uneven. The pain surged again, stronger this time, and her legs wobbled like a puppet with its strings cut.
Across the court, Xavier's smirk vanished. Something was wrong.
Kamsi's grip loosened entirely, and the rope snapped forward with the boys' momentum. The world tilted. She felt the court rush up to meet her, and then nothing.
For a moment, the court was eerily silent. Then the whispers started.
"What happened?"
"Is she okay?"
"Drama queen," someone muttered under their breath, followed by a few snickers.
Xavier wasn't laughing. His chest tightened as he watched Kamsi crumple to the ground, unmoving. His feet carried him forward before he could think.
"Kamsi!" He knelt beside her, his usually sharp features softened by an unfamiliar panic. Up close, her face was pale, beads of sweat dotting her forehead. She looked so fragile, so unlike the girl who usually bit back at his provocations.
"What the hell are you all staring at?" Xavier snapped at the onlookers. "Someone get the coach!"
No one moved. Of course not. Useless. He muttered a curse under his breath and slid his arms beneath her, lifting her effortlessly. She felt too light, like she'd been carrying the weight of the world on her own shoulders for far too long.
Her head lolled against his chest, and he froze for a second, his throat tightening.
Why did this feel so… personal?
He carried her across the court, the whispers following him like shadows. Damon jogged up beside him, his expression a mix of surprise and amusement.
"Wow, didn't peg you for the knight-in-shining-armor type," Damon quipped.
"Not now, Damon," Xavier growled, his jaw tightening.
Damon raised his hands in surrender, though his grin didn't fade.