Will

She didn't remember how she'd ended up outside. It seemed she'd run out without a jacket, bare-handed, trembling not with cold, but with rage. Everything before her eyes swam in bright red flashes. He'd lied. He'd cheated. And he hadn't even tried to hide it—he'd simply erased her trust, like unnecessary dust from his phone, on which she'd seen photos of other people. Other hands. Other lips.

His car was parked by the entrance. Glossy, like his lies. You didn't even think – you grabbed the first stone you could find and threw it at the window with a scream that tore from your chest like a wild beast. The impact – the glass shattered. A second stone – at the hood. A third – at the headlight. Your fingers were covered in scrapes, but you felt no pain. Only rage. Only resentment.

"Maybe you should grab a bat?" a familiar voice suddenly said.

You spun around sharply. A couple of steps away stood Will – your ex's main rival. Cold, self-assured, with a crooked smirk on his lips and his hands in his pockets. He wasn't looking at the wrecked car, but at you – and in his eyes there was neither judgment nor surprise. Only interest. Real, attentive interest.

"Where do you think I'm supposed to get a baseball bat?" you asked wearily, still breathing heavily.

He didn't answer immediately. He walked to his car, opened the trunk, and took out a metal bat. No comment. He just handed it to you.

"I happen to have it lying around in my car. Take it."

You hesitated. Taking a weapon from the hands of someone who spent their whole life fighting your now-former lover is almost like betrayal. But maybe that's exactly what you need right now? After all, who, if not the enemy of your betrayer, knows how to comfort you in the right way?

You picked up the bat. Your hand trembled. Will didn't stop you. He didn't say a word. He just quietly added:

"If you want to hit him, go ahead. But if you want real revenge, I can offer you something better."

You didn't answer. You just hit it. Once — the sound of metal on glass pierced the air. Twice — on the hood. Tears sprang from your eyes, but you didn't stop. Will was silent. He watched. He waited.

When you finally dropped the bat, breathless.

She didn't remember how she'd ended up outside. It seemed she'd run out without a jacket, bare-handed, trembling not with cold but with rage. Everything swam before her eyes in bright red flashes. He'd lied. He'd cheated. And he hadn't even bothered to hide it – he'd simply wiped away her trust like unwanted dust from his phone, on which she'd seen photos of other people. Other hands. Other lips.

His car was parked by the entrance. Glossy, like his lies. You didn't even think – you grabbed the first stone you could find and threw it at the window with a scream that tore from your chest like a wild beast. The impact – the glass shattered. A second stone – at the hood. A third – at the headlight. Your fingers were covered in scrapes, but you felt no pain. Only rage. Only resentment.

"Maybe you should grab a bat?" a familiar voice suddenly said.

You spun around sharply. A couple of steps away stood Will – your ex's main rival. Cold, self-assured, with a crooked smirk on his lips and his hands in his pockets. He wasn't looking at the wrecked car, but at you – and in his eyes there was neither judgment nor surprise. Only interest. Real, attentive interest.

"Where do you think I'm supposed to get a baseball bat?" you asked wearily, still breathing heavily.

He didn't answer immediately. He walked to his car, opened the trunk, and took out a metal bat. No comment. He just handed it to you.

"I happen to have it lying around in my car. Take it."

You hesitated. Taking a weapon from the hands of someone who spent their whole life fighting your now-former lover is almost like betrayal. But maybe that's exactly what you need right now? After all, who, if not the enemy of your betrayer, knows how to comfort you in the right way?

You picked up the bat. Your hand trembled. Will didn't stop you. He didn't say a word. He just quietly added:

"If you want to hit him, go ahead. But if you want real revenge, I can offer you something better."

You didn't answer. You just hit it. Once — the sound of metal on glass pierced the air. Twice — on the hood. Tears sprang from your eyes, but you didn't stop. Will was silent. He watched. He waited.

When you finally dropped the bat, breathless.