The room was still wrapped in the soft warmth of sleep when the sharp, relentless ring of a phone sliced through the quiet. Outside, Barcelona was just beginning to stir—the city humming faintly with life. Inside, two bodies lay entangled in soft sheets, limbs wrapped around each other like vines drawn to warmth.
Evan groaned, rubbing his eyes, his head still heavy with sleep. He reached for the nightstand, thinking it was his phone, but the ringing wasn't coming from there.
He turned, only to see Selene sitting up, back turned to him, already clutching her phone. The blue light of the screen illuminated her face—expression tight, unreadable.
"I didn't know you had one," Evan murmured groggily, leaning in to kiss her neck, his voice still thick with sleep.
But Selene didn't answer. She slipped out from under the blanket.
He blinked. "Sel?"
"I have to go," she said quietly, pulling on her jeans with urgency.
His brow furrowed, confusion cutting through the haze. "What do you mean you have to go?"
Selene didn't answer. She moved around the room like a ghost, collecting her things—her scarf from the chair, the coat from the closet.
Evan sat up. "Selene. What happened? Tell me."
Still silence.
He stood, grabbing her wrist just as she reached for her bag. "Sel, talk to me."
"Let me go," she said sharply, yanking her hand free. Her voice wasn't loud, but it cracked—like glass under pressure.
His expression darkened with worry. "No. I won't just stand here while you walk out without a word. Calm down. Please. Tell me what's going on."
But Selene turned away, her back trembling.
He exhaled, jaw clenched. "Alright. Fine. I'm coming with you."
"No," she snapped, whirling around. "Can you just—can you stop bothering me for once?
His expression shattered.
"Bothering...?" he echoed, voice breaking. "All these days were bothering to you? Weren't you in my arms literally two seconds ago?"
Selene's lips trembled. "Why do you even care? I wasn't gonna stay forever."
He let out a hollow, sarcastic laugh, brushing a hand through his hair. "What the hell do you mean by that?" he said, anger slowly rising in his voice.
Selene looked away. "Evan… that was all a drunk mistake."
"Drunk?" His tone turned sharp, biting. "Were you drunk in the food street? Were you drunk when we held hands in the rain? Were you drunk When you danced barefoot in the alley with me? Were you drunk last night?!"
Selene flinched at his words but said nothing.
"Don't say that shit," he snapped.
She stared at the door, voice suddenly quiet again, almost broken. "Just… don't follow me."
It was barely a whisper. Like surrender.
Evan stood frozen.
And with that, she walked out.
Evan stood there—shirtless, confused, furious, and aching—all at once. The door clicked shut behind her. And in the quiet that followed, the only thing he could hear was the steady throb of his own pulse and the distant echo of everything they never said.
Two minutes passed in silence.
And then—he moved.
He grabbed his shirt from the floor, shoved his laptop into his bag, half-zipped it, not caring. His mind was racing. His breath uneven. He didn't understand what just happened. But he knew her—Selene didn't mean it. Not the way she said it. Not with that look in her eyes.
He ran.
Out of the hotel room. Down the hallway. The elevator took too long—he burst down the stairs, taking them two at a time, ignoring the burn in his legs.
As he pushed the hotel doors open, sunlight slapped his face.
She was just getting into a car. A black one, sleek, nondescript. Her back turned toward him, hair pulled messily over one shoulder.
And she wasn't alone.
A man was with her. Tall. Wearing sunglasses. His hand on the door as he helped her in. Evan's heart dropped into his stomach.
"Selene!" he shouted, sprinting down the stone steps.
She didn't turn around.
The car pulled away, the tires rolling over cobblestones with cruel calmness. Evan chased after it for a few seconds, feet pounding against the pavement, until the car turned a sharp corner and disappeared into Barcelona's streets.
He stopped in the middle of the road, chest heaving. The sun was too bright. The city too loud. The world too normal for what had just happened.
She was gone.
With a stranger.
And she hadn't looked back.