{Song of the chapter - Falling: Harry Styles}

The pounding beat of the party echoed in my ears, but it barely registered. I should've been celebrating—after all, we won the game, right? But instead, I found myself leaning against the counter in the kitchen, a half-empty beer dangling from my hand, staring out the window like I was lost. Something felt off, something I couldn't quite name, but it clung to me like a weight.

I was about to leave, to get as far away from the noise as possible, when I saw her.

Isla.

She was pushing through the crowd, her face pale, her eyes swollen and red from crying. My stomach twisted, an ache settling deep inside as I watched her, broken and fragile, moving like she just needed to escape. Without thinking, I was moving, my body on autopilot, weaving through the party to reach her.

"Isla!" I called out, loud enough to cut through the music, but she didn't stop. She didn't even look at me.

Panic surged in my chest as I followed her outside, the cool night air hitting me like a slap. She stood by the side of the house, her arms wrapped tightly around herself, looking so small, so shattered. The sight of her like that, breaking in front of me, made something inside me crack.

"Hey," I said softly as I approached, my hand hovering near her shoulder but not quite touching. "What happened?"

She sniffled, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand, but she didn't answer right away. For a moment, she just stood there, staring at nothing, like she didn't know how to piece together the words. When she finally spoke, her voice was so small, so defeated. "I'm so stupid, Theo."

Her words cut through me, sharp and cold. "What? No, you're not," I said quickly, moving closer. "What are you talking about?"

"Can we just get out of here?" she whispered, her voice breaking, and I didn't hesitate.

I led her to my car, not saying anything as we left the party behind. She stayed quiet, staring out the window as the streets blurred by, her shoulders trembling with silent sobs. The weight of her pain pressed down on me, every instinct I had telling me to fix it, to make it better—but I didn't know how. Not yet.

We pulled into a park, the night wrapping around us in a quiet that felt too heavy. I killed the engine and got out, walking over to her side of the car. I opened the door and held out my hand, and when she took it, her fingers were cold, her grip weak. I led her over to a bench near the playground, the moonlight filtering through the trees, casting soft shadows across her face.

For a long time, neither of us spoke. She sat with her shoulders hunched, her hands covering her face as tears spilled down. Every sob that escaped her tore me apart, but I didn't push. I couldn't. Not yet.

"Luna," I whispered, sliding closer and gently pulling her hands away from her face. "I hate seeing you like this. Just tell me what happened, please. If you don't... I'm going to assume the worst, and I swear I'll—"

Isla let out a shaky breath, her voice barely audible. "Jake... he used me."

The words hit me like a punch to the gut. My whole body tensed, the anger I'd been holding back boiling beneath the surface. "What?"

"All of it," she choked out, her hands trembling as she wiped her eyes. "He never cared about me, Theo. It was all just because of my dad. He wanted the connections. And then..." Her voice cracked, and she covered her face again, her body shaking with sobs. "He slept with Bonnie."

Every word felt like a blade, cutting deeper into the anger swirling inside me. "That bastard," I growled, my fists clenching as I tried to control the rage coursing through me.

Isla shook her head, her voice breaking. "I'm so stupid. I should've listened to you. I thought he cared, Theo. I thought he—" Her voice broke off into sobs, and I couldn't take it anymore.

"You're not stupid," I said firmly, pulling her into my arms. She resisted for a second, but then she melted against me, her head resting on my chest as she cried. I held her close, my heart breaking with every tear, every shaky breath she took. "You're not stupid, Isla. This isn't your fault."

She shook her head, but I couldn't let her believe it. I pulled her tighter, pressing my cheek against her hair, trying to steady us both. "You deserve so much better than him, Luna. So much better."

Her sobs quieted after a while, but I didn't let go. I couldn't. The anger still simmered beneath the surface, but right now, all I cared about was making sure she knew I was here for her.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, her voice muffled against my chest.

"Don't be," I whispered back, my grip on her tightening. "None of this is your fault."

Isla trembled in my arms, her breaths uneven, but her tears had slowed. The silence between us felt heavy, like there was still something she wasn't saying.

I pulled back slightly, just enough to tilt her face up. My thumb brushed against her cheek, wiping away the fresh tears that had fallen. Her skin was soft under my touch, but her eyes—glassy with tears and filled with a vulnerability I hadn't seen before—hit me harder than I could've anticipated.

"You're not alone in this, Isla," I whispered, my voice low and steady, despite the storm swirling inside me. I wiped another tear from her cheek, my fingers lingering a little longer than they should have. "You never have been."

Her breath hitched, her lips parting slightly as she gazed up at me, something unreadable in her expression. The space between us felt like it was shrinking, the tension building with every second that passed. My hand, still resting on her cheek, moved almost on its own as I gently tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, the action so intimate it made my chest tighten.

She didn't pull away. Her breath quickened, her eyes searching mine, like she was looking for something she couldn't quite name. I could feel it—the shift, the unspoken moment between us growing heavier, drawing us closer together.

My heart pounded in my chest, the magnetic pull between us impossible to ignore. I leaned in slightly, my gaze flickering between her eyes and her lips, the need to close the distance overwhelming.

Without thinking, I leaned in and gently pressed my lips to hers.

The second my lips brushed against hers, my heart stopped.

What the hell was I doing?

My mind screamed at me to pull away, to apologize, to take it back before I ruined everything. But I couldn't. The moment I felt the warmth of her mouth, every thought, every rational idea vanished. My hand, which had been cupping her face so gently, trembled slightly, my thumb brushing over her cheek as if to steady myself.

She froze. The tension between us was so thick it almost choked me, and I knew—knew—I had overstepped. I had crossed that invisible line we'd both been pretending didn't exist.

Just as I was about to pull back, feeling that familiar panic rising in my chest, she kissed me back.

It wasn't immediate. There was a moment, a split second, where time seemed to stretch and stop altogether. Then I felt it—a soft press of her lips against mine, hesitant at first, like she was testing the waters. And that was all it took for something in me to snap.

I deepened the kiss, letting the desperation that had been clawing at me for so long finally break free. My hand slid into her hair, fingers tangling in the soft strands as I tugged her closer, the need to feel her against me consuming every rational thought. My other hand tightened on her waist, pulling her flush against my body, her warmth igniting something primal inside me. The taste of salt from her tears still lingered on her lips, but beneath it was something intoxicatingly sweet—something that made my head spin and my blood roar in my veins.

Isla clung to me, her fingers fisting in my shirt like I was the only thing keeping her grounded, like she needed me as much as I needed her. Her body molded against mine, soft and yielding, and the sensation made me lose any remaining sense of control. Every inch of her pressed against me, and I could feel the rapid beat of her heart matching the frantic pounding of mine, like we were both caught in something raw and untamed, something neither of us could stop even if we tried.

Her breath hitched against my lips, a soft, shaky gasp that sent a pulse of heat straight through me. I groaned low in my throat, unable to hold it back, as I moved my lips over hers with more urgency, more hunger. My tongue swept against hers, tasting her, claiming her in a way I'd only imagined in the quiet moments when I let myself think of her like this.

The way she responded—her body arching into mine, her hands tugging me closer, like she wanted to erase any space between us—drove me wild. Every touch, every breathless sound she made only fueled the fire building between us. I slid my hand from her waist to her lower back, pressing her hips into mine, needing her to feel what she was doing to me, how badly I wanted her.

It wasn't just about the kiss anymore. It was about everything I'd been holding back—all the unspoken words, the longing, the moments I'd spent wanting to be closer to her but forcing myself to stay away. Now, with her in my arms, there was no holding back. Every movement, every kiss, was a silent confession, an outpouring of everything I'd kept bottled up for too long.

Her soft moan vibrated against my lips, and I deepened the kiss further, sliding my hand up her back, feeling the curve of her spine beneath my fingertips. My heart raced, my body thrumming with the tension that had built between us for what felt like forever. The heat of her skin, the way she moved against me—it was overwhelming, dizzying. I wanted more.

But this wasn't just about the kiss. It was about everything.

The way I'd watched her smile and felt something tug at my chest. The nights I lay awake thinking about her. The way I could never let her go when she was upset, like now. I wasn't just kissing her. I was laying myself bare in front of her, hoping—praying—that she could feel it, too.

And just as quickly as it had started, it stopped.

Isla pulled away, her chest heaving as she gasped for air, her wide eyes filled with confusion, fear—everything I felt, too. My hand slipped from her waist, but I didn't move far, my mind reeling, my body aching from the loss of her warmth. I stared at her, the realization of what had just happened crashing down on me like a tidal wave.

"Theo..." she whispered, her voice broken, raw.

I swallowed hard, my throat tight, trying to find the words that would make this right, but nothing came. Nothing could erase what just happened, and the truth of it hung between us, heavy and suffocating.

"Luna–" I start but I'm cut off.

"I— I can't," she stammered, her voice barely above a whisper, her hands shaking as she wiped at the fresh tears streaming down her face. She backed up, the space between us widening with every step she took.

"Wait," I said, my voice cracking. I stood up, reaching for her, but the look in her eyes stopped me cold. She was scared. Not of me—but of us.

"I'm sorry," she choked out, shaking her head. "I didn't mean to... I don't know why I..." She trailed off, her words dissolving into sobs, and it hit me like a punch to the gut.

This kiss—our kiss—had changed everything. I could see it on her face, feel it in the air between us. There was no going back from this, no pretending like we could ignore what had just happened.

She took another step back, her legs shaky, and I could see the panic in her eyes. "I have to go," she mumbled, her voice barely audible over the pounding in my ears.

I opened my mouth to stop her, to say something, anything that would keep her from walking away, but nothing came out. I felt paralyzed, my heart still racing, my lips still burning from where hers had been.

And then, before I could do a damn thing, she turned and disappeared into the darkness, leaving me standing there alone.

I exhaled sharply, my hand running through my hair as I stared at the spot where she had been just moments before. My chest was tight, my whole body thrumming with an energy I couldn't get rid of. Everything felt wrong. Everything felt like it was falling apart and coming together all at once.

I sank back down onto the bench, my head in my hands, the weight of the kiss—the weight of everything—settling over me.

I'd kissed her.

And she kissed me back.