Adrien's POV
The vase shattered beside me. Pieces scattered across the sterile floor, small white fragments gleaming under the harsh light. But the sound that broke me wasn't the crash—it was her voice.
"Go away! I don't want to see you!"
My heart felt like fragile glass cracking in slow motion. Every syllable hit like a hammer.
For a second, I couldn't breathe. I couldn't even think. The room tilted, my pulse a dull roar in my ears.
My knees hit the cold linoleum floor before I even realized I was falling. The sound echoed in the silence she left between her sobs. My palms pressed flat against my thighs, shaking — no, trembling — as if my body couldn't decide whether to hold itself together or let go completely.
My heart felt like fragile glass cracking under pressure — a slow, delicate ruin, splintering one piece at a time. I could hear the fractures inside me, could almost feel the shards carving through my chest. It hurts. God, it hurts so much.
