Gwayne Hightower 𖤐

The argument had started over something trivial.

Or at least that's what you thought.

—You didn't have to confront that gentleman.

You said, following him through one of the corridors of the Red Keep.

Gwayne didn't even stop.

—Yes, I did.

—He was just talking to me.

—I was doing it too close.

You rolled your eyes.

—You can't decide who I talk to.

He turned around suddenly.

—And you can't understand that that man didn't have good intentions?

—So what if I had them?

Gwayne clenched his jaw.

—Does that mean you were going to give him a chance?

The question took you by surprise.

—Is that what really bothers you?

He did not answer.

His silence was enough.

You took a step towards him.

—You don't trust me.

-I trust you.

He answered firmly.

—I don't trust them.

—It's the same thing.

—No, it isn't.

The tension between the two became unbearable.

—You always do this.

You said.

—You always want to solve everything with a sword or a threat.

Gwayne let out a bitter laugh.

—And you always find a way to defend anyone… except me.

You looked at him, hurt.

—Because you don't need me to defend you.

-Yeah.

He answered in a low voice.

—With you, yes.

Those words made the anger disappear for a moment.

But pride spoke first.

—I can't be calming your jealousy all the time, Gwayne.

He looked down for a few seconds before meeting your eyes again.

—Then go.

Silence fell between them.

It wasn't a scream.

It was worse.

It sounded like someone was injured.

You watched him for a few seconds, waiting for him to say he wasn't serious.

But he remained motionless.

With a heavy heart, you turned around and started to walk away.

Only when you disappeared at the end of the hall did Gwayne close his eyes and lean a hand against the wall.

—What an idiot…

He muttered to himself.

Because the moment he saw you leave…

She understood that the last thing she wanted in the world was for you to actually leave.