The basketball court buzzed with noise—laughter, sneakers skidding, egos clashing like usual. Chris stood at the edge of the senior half, leaning against the chain-link fence, unreadable behind his glasses. The collar of his jacket flipped up slightly in the wind, messy hair casting shadows over his sharp gaze.
He wasn't watching the game.
He was watching Raven.
She moved like she owned the court:
confident, fast, electric. For a second, even he forgot the silence between them.
Then it happened.
Some arrogant senior, twice her size, slammed into her like it was a rugby match. Her body hit the ground with a sickening thud. Skin scraped. Blood started pooling at her knees.
She didn't scream.
But Chris moved.
Fast.
The arguing, the chaos, her teammates yelling at the guy—it all blurred behind him. His cold fingers slipped under her back and knees before she could protest, lifting her effortlessly into his arms.
Bridal style.
Her heartbeat pounded against his chest.
"Stupid," he said quietly. No heat, just tension. His voice was low, steady. "You never look before charging in."
His eyes flicked to her bleeding leg, jaw tightening. But he didn't meet her eyes.
Didn't talk about the breakup.
Didn't talk about anything.
He just carried her toward the infirmary.
Silent. Loyal. Still Chris.
_____________________
The infirmary smelled like Dettol and dust.
Raven sat on the edge of the bed, wincing as the nurse dabbed at her knee. Chris leaned against the wall, arms folded, face blank like he wasn't spiraling inside.
Silence stretched between them—full of things they used to say.
Raven looked at him, finally.
"You didn't have to carry me."
Chris didn't move. "You couldn't walk."
"That's never stopped you from walking away before."
His jaw clenched. For a second, just a second, something flickered in his eyes...guilt, regret, or maybe just the shadow of the boy who used to kiss her forehead after every game.
But it disappeared just as fast.
"You shouldn't be playing with that ankle," he said, voice clipped, looking anywhere but at her. "You always go too hard."
"I don't need your concern."
"You do. You just hate admitting it."
Raven scoffed, looking down at her bandaged knee. "You don't get to care anymore."
Chris pushed off the wall, taking a step closer. His voice was quiet. "Who said I ever stopped?"
She froze.
And in that moment, beneath the antiseptic lights and old memories. They weren't just ex-lovers. They were just Raven and Chris.
The what-ifs. The still-could-bes. The maybe-one-days.
But then the nurse returned.
And like always, reality snapped the moment in half.
Raven, stood up–Limping yet her gaze cold.
"Some wounds never bled."
She let out a bitter laugh before limping away, away from him.