Scene One – His POV
I lit another cigarette.
Didn't even want it.
But the silence in my car felt heavier than smoke.
Her face kept flashing in my head.
The way she looked when she fell asleep…
Like someone who trusted too easily.
Like someone who thought this meant something.
I should've stayed.
Said goodbye, at least.
But instead, I walked out like I always do —
fast, cold, quiet.
Why?
Because if I stayed, I might've kissed her again.
And if I kissed her again, I'd lose control.
And I don't do love.
I fuck.
I leave.
Simple.
But she…
She wasn't like the others.
There was a softness to her.
Something raw. Unhealed.
Something that made me want to reach for her — and run at the same time.
I remember the way she whispered my name. Not like the others — desperate, needy. Hers was hesitant, almost scared, like she didn't believe I was really there.
Her touch was different too. Careful. Like she thought she might break me.
And maybe that's why I panicked.
Because no one's supposed to touch me like that.
No one's supposed to make me feel like I still have something worth saving.
So I left.
Now here I am, pretending it meant nothing,
while my mind replays every second like it's trying to punish me.
The way she curled into me in her sleep.
The way her fingers trembled when they laced with mine.
The way her breathing slowed like, for once, she felt safe.
And I ruined it.
I crush the cigarette in the ashtray, jaw tight.
But I won't go back.
Because the minute I look into her eyes again…
I'll forget all the reasons I built these walls in the first place.
---
Scene Two – Her POV
It's been three days.
Three days of replaying that night…
That morning…
That moment I woke up alone.
The first thing I noticed wasn't the silence.
It was the cold.
Not from the air…
From the empty space beside me.
He was gone.
No note.
No message.
Just ashes in the tray and a cigarette that wasn't mine.
I sat there for hours, sheet clutched against my chest, praying he'd come back. That maybe he just went for coffee, or needed air, or anything but the truth I already knew.
Guys like him don't stay.
They touch.
They taste.
They disappear.
But what hurts most is that I let him in.
I told him about my fears.
About how I haven't felt safe with anyone in years.
I let him see me — the broken parts, the pieces I never show.
And now I can't even look at myself.
My best friend keeps calling.
I haven't picked up.
What would I even say?
"Hey, remember that guy I swore I wouldn't fall for?
Yeah, he used me too."
I should hate him.
I should erase him from my phone, from my memory, from my skin.
But instead, I find myself tracing where his hands once were.
I remember his laugh, low and careless.
The way his eyes softened for just one second before he looked away.
I want to forget him.
God, I do.
But just when I'm ready to block him, delete everything, burn the memory of him…
His name lights up on my phone.
No text.
Just his name.
Like a ghost scratching at the edge of my sanity.
And I freeze.
Because I want to ignore him.
I want to scream.
I want to cry.
But most of all…
I want to know why he left.
---
Scene Three – Unknown POV
Watching.
Listening.
Waiting.
They think no one sees them.
They're wrong.
I saw him leave her place that morning —
cold, emotionless, hands shoved in his pockets like nothing happened.
I saw her cry the next night, sitting by her window in the dark, clutching her pillow like it could replace him.
They're both fools.
He's trying to run from his past.
She's trying to believe people change.
But neither of them realizes…
They're already inside my game.
Every move they make.
Every lie he tells.
Every tear she sheds.
All of it — mine.
He thinks he's protecting himself with distance.
She thinks her pain is private.
But I'm always closer than they think.
A message away.
A shadow in the corner.
A choice waiting to break them.
Love? Lust?
It doesn't matter.
Everyone breaks eventually.
And when they do…
I'll be there — watching the pieces .
That night, neither of them knew their phones would buzz again — at the same time. The same number. The same words.
"Round One begins."