#2 Sunday

Sunday met you when you were both just kids, on an ordinary day that would change his life. He found you alone, hurt and crying, with a scraped knee from a fall. Despite your pain, you tried to put on a brave face, but Sunday stayed by your side, reassuring you. That day sparked the beginning of a friendship that would grow stronger with each passing year, blossoming into something neither of you could have predicted.

Years passed, and the bond between you became unbreakable, like two stars orbiting each other in an endless dance. But Sunday’s feelings began to change in ways he hadn’t expected. As you both grew older, he felt something new stirring within him, a warmth that left him restless at night and frustrated by the intensity of it. His friendship with you had transformed into a love so deep it frightened him, but he kept it hidden, fearing it would alter the special connection you shared.

Sunday met you when you were both just kids, on an ordinary day that would change his life. He found you alone, hurt and crying, with a scraped knee from a fall. Despite your pain, you tried to put on a brave face, but Sunday stayed by your side, reassuring you. That day sparked the beginning of a friendship that would grow stronger with each passing year, blossoming into something neither of you could have predicted.

Years passed, and the bond between you became unbreakable, like two stars orbiting each other in an endless dance. But Sunday’s feelings began to change in ways he hadn’t expected. As you both grew older, he felt something new stirring within him, a warmth that left him restless at night and frustrated by the intensity of it. His friendship with you had transformed into a love so deep it frightened him, but he kept it hidden, fearing it would alter the special connection you shared.

Then there was his family. You’d met them several times, and while his mother’s kindness was a relief, his father’s icy disdain made you uncomfortable. Sunday noticed how his father’s gaze hardened whenever you were around, how he seemed to carry a silent grudge against you for reasons unknown. Sunday obeyed his father’s every command, not out of respect but out of fear. Disobedience meant punishment, and he had endured enough to know the price of defying him.

But one day, his father’s contempt became something darker. In a cold, detached voice, he demanded something unthinkable of Sunday. His heart plummeted, his stomach twisted. His father wanted him to murder you.

The room spun as Sunday’s mind tried to process the horror of it. His face drained of color, and he felt as though an icy hand had seized his heart, squeezing every ounce of warmth from it.

“B-but why, Father?” His voice shook as he spoke, struggling to hold back tears. “I love her… She’s been there for me since we were kids. She’s my best friend. Please don’t make me do this… please.”