Ray Maddox
It started with the look.
No glares.
No teasing.
Just… nothing.
Sky Valen walked into class in her usual crisp blazer, heels clicking, eyes forward. Her seat—next to me—remained empty. She walked past it without hesitation and sat three rows ahead.
I stared at the back of her head like it owed me answers.
Okay. Fine.
She's in a mood.
I waited.
But it wasn't just class.
The lunch table? Empty.
The library? She left the second I entered.
Texts? Delivered. Unread.
Calls? Straight to voicemail.
It's not like we ever defined anything. We were fire and bad decisions. But even fire needs oxygen.
And she was suffocating me with silence.
I caught her once—in the hallway near the lockers. Alone. I said her name.
She turned.
Paused.
And then kept walking.
Like I didn't exist.
The worst part?
She looked perfectly fine doing it.
Not mad. Not sad. Just distant.
Like we'd never stayed up until sunrise.
Like she hadn't once begged me not to stop.
Like I hadn't left marks on her that I swore would fade, but secretly hoped never would.
By Thursday, I cracked.
I cornered her near the law library.
She froze the second she saw me.
"Sky," I said.
She didn't look up. "I'm busy."
"Bullshit."
She lifted her eyes then. But they weren't hers. They were the cold, lawyer-trained, Valen eyes. All sharp edges and nothing behind them.
"You should stop."
I laughed. Bitter. "That's what this is? You ghost me for a week and that's all I get?"
Her lips twitched. Just barely. "You got more than you should've."
"Sky, come on."
Her voice dropped. "I'm not doing this with you, Ray."
That hurt. Not in the chest. In the bone.
"Did he find out?"
She didn't flinch. That silence was all the answer I needed.
"Jesus." I ran a hand down my face. "He threatened you, didn't he?"
Sky turned away. "It doesn't matter."
"It matters to me."
She whispered, barely audible—"It can't. Not anymore."
I didn't touch her.
Didn't yell.
Didn't beg.
But when she walked away—
I didn't stop her.
Because her hands were clenched like she was holding herself together.
Because her steps weren't confident, they were fragile.
Because when she looked back, just once, her eyes begged me not to chase her.
And for once…
I didn't.
But I swear to God—
This isn't over.