~NIKLAUS~
I'm my own fear.
I watch her cry — not the loud, messy kind, but the kind that rips your chest open in silence. Her hands tremble, her breath hitches, and her eyes won't meet mine anymore. And all I can think is: I'm doing this to her. I've never been the emotional type and I always hide how I truly feel. Even my little sister has never seen me cry.
I don't speak. I just stare at her, letting her words sink deep into my bones—her pain, her frustration, her confession. Everything she's ever felt but was too afraid to say out loud. Despite how confusing it must've been to admit her feelings—especially to someone as uncertain and damaged as me—she still said it. Unlike me. I'm just a coward. But this… whatever this is—these feelings—they fade. They always do. I know they will. We're caught in a moment, consumed by something temporary. And eventually, she'll forget. It'll all return to normal.
