Yuna:
The sound of the lock clicking earlier had stayed in my head.
Over and over.
Like a reminder.
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I didn't know how much time had passed when the knock came.
Soft.
Careful.
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I didn't answer.
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The door opened anyway.
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A maid stepped inside, holding a tray—warm food, carefully arranged, the smell filling the room gently. It should've felt comforting.
It didn't.
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My eyes went to the tray.
Then away.
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"Miss… you should eat," she said softly.
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I stayed quiet for a second.
Then forced a small, polite smile.
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"Thank you," I said.
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My voice sounded calm.
Too calm.
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She stepped closer, placing the tray on the small table near the bed.
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And the moment she did—
Something inside me snapped.
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Before she could even step back—
I grabbed the plate.
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And threw it.
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The crash echoed through the room.
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The maid gasped, stepping back in shock as the food scattered across the floor, the plate shattering into pieces.
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My breathing grew heavier.
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"I don't want it," I said.
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My voice wasn't calm anymore.
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It trembled.
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"I don't want anything from him."
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The maid looked scared now.
Confused.
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"Miss, please—"
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But I wasn't listening.
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My eyes had already dropped to the floor.
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To the broken pieces.
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Sharp.
Jagged.
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Without thinking—
I stepped forward.
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Picked one up.
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The edge pressed against my fingers.
Cold.
Dangerous.
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"Miss, no—" the maid's voice shook.
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But I tightened my grip.
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Not enough to hurt deeply.
But enough—
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To make a point.
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"If he won't let me out…" I said, my voice shaking now, my chest rising and falling unevenly,
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"…then I'll make him."
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The maid's eyes widened in panic.
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"Please don't do this—"
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She rushed out.
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And for a second—
The room was silent again.
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But not for long.
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Footsteps.
Fast.
Heavy.
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The door opened violently.
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Ethan.
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His eyes landed on me instantly.
Then—
On my hand.
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"Drop it."
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His voice was sharp.
Cold.
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I didn't move.
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"Yuna," he said again, stepping forward.
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"I said drop it."
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"No," I replied immediately.
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My voice trembled—
But I didn't step back.
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"I want out."
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He moved closer.
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"Put it down," he repeated.
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"Let me go," I shot back.
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Another step.
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Another.
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The distance between us closed.
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"Yuna—"
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"I'm not staying here!" I shouted, my grip tightening slightly around the sharp piece.
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His eyes darkened.
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Then—
In one swift movement—
He grabbed my wrist.
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The piece fell from my hand, hitting the floor with a small, sharp sound.
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Before I could react—
He pushed it away with his foot.
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Far from reach.
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"Are you out of your mind?" he snapped.
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His voice wasn't just angry now—
It was shaken.
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I pulled slightly against his grip.
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"Then don't treat me like this!" I shouted back.
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He didn't respond.
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Instead—
He pulled me toward the bed.
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Firm.
Unyielding.
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"Sit."
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I resisted for a second—
Then he pushed me down gently but firmly.
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I sat.
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Breathing uneven.
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Angry.
Hurt.
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The maid quickly came back in, kneeling to clean the broken glass in silence, her movements fast, careful.
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Ethan didn't look at her.
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His attention stayed on me.
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Unmoving.
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"Clean it," he said shortly.
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"Yes, sir."
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The room filled with the quiet sounds of glass being picked up.
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Neither of us spoke.
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The tension between us was thick.
Heavy.
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After a few minutes, the floor was clear again.
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Ethan finally glanced at the maid.
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"Bring another meal."
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She nodded quickly.
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"Yes, sir."
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She left.
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The door closed again.
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And once again—
We were alone.
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Ethan stood there for a moment.
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Then slowly—
Turned his gaze fully to me.
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I didn't look away.
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Even though my heart was still racing.
Even though my hand still felt the ghost of that sharp edge.
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"You think hurting yourself will get you what you want?" he asked quietly.
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I swallowed.
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"I think it's the only way you'll listen."
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His jaw tightened.
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"That's not how this works."
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"Then how does it work?" I shot back. "Because locking me here isn't working either."
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Silence.
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His eyes searched mine again.
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Not just angry now.
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Something deeper.
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Something conflicted.
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"I told you to stay," he said.
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"And I told you I won't," I replied.
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Another silence.
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Neither of us backing down.
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Neither of us giving in.
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And in that moment—
It wasn't just about the room anymore.
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It wasn't just about control.
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It was about something bigger.
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Something neither of us was ready to admit out loud.
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But it was there.
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Between us.
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Clear.
Unavoidable.
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And still—
Unresolved.
"Just leave me alone, Ethan."
My voice came out softer this time, but it didn't hide the exhaustion behind it. I didn't even look at him when I said it. I just sat there on the bed, my hands resting in my lap, my fingers still trembling slightly from everything that had just happened.
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He didn't leave.
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I could feel it—his presence getting closer, the weight of it filling the room, pressing against my already tight chest.
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"I said leave," I repeated, this time turning my face slightly away from him.
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"I'm not leaving," he replied.
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Simple.
Final.
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I clenched my jaw.
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"I don't want to eat," I added quickly, before he could say anything else. "I'm not hungry."
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A lie.
And we both knew it.
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But I didn't care.
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The knock came again.
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The door opened just enough for the maid to step inside carefully, holding another tray. Fresh food. Warm. Neatly arranged again, like nothing had happened earlier.
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She placed it down quietly and left without saying much, clearly not wanting to get involved again.
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The door closed.
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Silence.
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Ethan picked up the plate.
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I turned my face away instantly.
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"I said I don't want it."
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He didn't respond.
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Instead, he scooped a small portion and brought it closer to me.
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"Eat."
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"No."
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I moved my head further away.
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"Yuna."
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"I said no, Ethan."
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My voice shook again.
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"I'm not a child."
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His hand paused in the air for a second.
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Then he tried again.
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I turned my head again.
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Refusing.
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That's when his patience snapped.
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In one quick motion, his hand came up and grabbed my jaw—not harsh enough to hurt badly, but firm enough to stop me from moving.
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"Enough."
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His voice dropped.
Low.
Dark.
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My breath caught.
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Before I could react, he tilted my face back toward him, his grip steady as his other hand brought the food closer again.
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"Open your mouth."
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"No—"
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But he didn't wait this time.
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He pressed slightly, forcing my lips apart just enough to feed me.
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My eyes widened, tears instantly forming again as I tried to pull away—but his hold didn't let me.
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"Eat," he said again.
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The word wasn't loud.
But it wasn't gentle either.
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It was a command.
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I swallowed, my chest tightening, tears slipping down my cheeks as I looked at him.
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"Why are you doing this…" I whispered.
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His grip loosened slightly.
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For a second—
His expression changed.
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Something softer flickered in his eyes.
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Something… guilty.
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"…Because you won't take care of yourself," he said quietly.
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The anger in his voice had faded.
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Replaced by something heavier.
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He let go of my face completely this time.
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"I'm …Sorry," he added, almost under his breath.
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The word surprised me.
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More than anything else he had done.
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I blinked, tears still falling, my breathing uneven.
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"…Don't lock me again," I said softly.
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My voice wasn't loud anymore.
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It wasn't angry either.
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Just… tired.
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He didn't answer right away.
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But he didn't look away either.
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The silence between us shifted.
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Slower.
Softer.
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Then—
He leaned in.
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This time—
The kiss wasn't harsh.
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It wasn't forced.
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It was slower.
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Careful.
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Like he was trying to fix something he had just broken.
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My hands hesitated for a second—
Then slowly reached for him, holding onto his shirt lightly as I closed my eyes.
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It didn't feel like a fight anymore.
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Just… us.
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When he pulled back, his forehead rested lightly against mine for a moment.
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Neither of us spoke.
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Then he picked up the plate again.
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"Eat," he said, softer now.
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I didn't turn away this time.
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Slowly—
I took a bite.
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He watched me carefully, like making sure I wouldn't stop again.
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And when I didn't—
He continued feeding me.
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Not forcing.
Not commanding.
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Just… staying.
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Right there.
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With me.
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And for the first time since everything happened—
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The silence didn't feel like a cage anymore.