RIKI'S POV
The headache that's been throbbing in my skull feels like someone is hammering nails into my brain. The moment I opened my eyes was the moment I regretted the most. Part of it is because of the blinding light piercing through the white room, making everything feel too sharp. The other part, though, is the sight of her worried face hovering over me, her eyes wide with something I can't quite name—fear, maybe, or something softer, like care, but that makes no sense.
Ava's not supposed to look at me like that. She's supposed to look at me like I'm some dumb, reckless guy who doesn't know when to stop, like I've disappointed her. Not like this. Not with that raw, painful tenderness in her gaze.
I don't know what to say. I don't know what to tell her, what she's expecting from me, and the silence between us stretches too thin, like a thread about to snap. My throat feels raw, my body aching in ways I can't explain, but none of it compares to the weight in her eyes.
"You were almost poisoned," She whispers and the rude, heartless Ava I've always come to despise is nowhere to be seen, nowhere to be found in the way her voice trembles, soft and unsteady. Her words hit me like a slap, sharp and cold, and suddenly the weight of everything—the room, the silence, her—feels suffocating.
"I'm sorry," I exhale, dragging my fingers through my hair in an attempt to grasp something—anything—that feels solid, feels real. But it's useless. My hair feels like straw between my fingers, my chest feels hollow, and the words feel like ash on my tongue. "I shouldn't have drank—"
"It's not your fault, Riki," Ava says, staring at me, her arms crossed over her chest as if holding herself together. I can't tell if it's to protect herself from me or to stop herself from falling apart. Maybe both. But her words sting.
"It is," I mutter, my voice low and bitter, my gaze dropping to the stark white sheets pooled around me. "I should've known better. I should've—"
"Should've what, Riki?" Her voice rises, sharp and laced with frustration. She takes a step closer, her arms dropping to her sides, her hands curling into fists. "Should've magically known they were going to pull something like this? Should've stayed home and let me walk into that mess alone? Stop blaming yourself for things you couldn't control." Her words hang in the air, heavy and unrelenting, and I don't know what to do with them. She's wrong, but she's also right, and the contradiction makes my head spin.
"I went there because of you," I admit, the words spilling out before I can stop them. My chest feels tight, like the air is too thick to breathe. "I saw Jaehoon and those guys earlier, and I couldn't just—just sit there wondering if you were okay. So yeah, I went. And I drank. Because I thought if I didn't, they'd figure out why I was really there."
Ava's expression softens, her lips parting slightly as if to say something, but she doesn't. She just stares at me, her eyes wide and glassy, and I can't tell if she's about to cry or yell at me again.
"They knew," She finally says, her voice quieter now, but no less firm. "They knew why you were there, Riki. That's why they did it. They wanted to hurt you. To send a message. And I hate them for it."
My hands grip the edge of the bed so tightly my knuckles turn white, but all I do is let out a heavy sigh and look back at her, at the way her anger makes me want to grab her hand and promise her the world, even though I know I can't. I can't protect her the way I want to, not from guys like Lyle, not from the chaos that follows her wherever she goes. But damn it, I want to try.
"Christmas is soon," I blurt out, the words tumbling out of me like they've been ripped from some hidden corner of my mind. It's ridiculous, irrelevant, but it's all I can think to say. Ava blinks, startled, her anger faltering for a brief moment as if she can't quite process the shift in the conversation.
