TËSSÃ ãñd DARÆY: A Love Written with fire

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Tessa's POV

After dishing Daræy, I really thought my life would go back to being smooth.

I thought the drama would finally die down. That I'd be able to breathe without constantly feeling like there was a storm raging inside me.

That saying goodbye to him—even if only for a while—would give me some peace.

But damn… was I wrong.

Did I miss him?

Of course, I did.

I barely made it a few steps away before I felt like crying.

And I hated it.

I hated how shitty I felt. How even when people tried to talk to me, I brushed them off like they didn't matter.

Because, at that moment? They really didn't matter.

To me, they were just people. Just bodies moving around, filling up space.

Because the one person I actually wanted to talk to—the one person I actually needed—was the one I had just walked away from.

Daræy.

And replacing him? Impossible.

I didn't even want to.

I kept telling myself that all I had to do was survive the next few weeks. Just get through exams. Then, somehow, I'd find a way to settle things with him.

But then another thought hit me—if I felt this way, why did I even do that?

Why did I push him away in the first place?

Why was I making this harder on myself?

I didn't have to let him go.

And yet… I did.

Stupid things girls do.

I'm so stupid.

But now, I couldn't turn back.

If I did, it would make me look weak.

And I couldn't be weak in front of him.

So I made a decision.

I would let it be.

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That night, when I got home, I told my girls everything.

What happened. Why I stayed hungry the whole day. How I felt like absolute garbage.

They listened, nodding along, their faces switching between concern and silent judgment.

And then, finally, one of them asked, "So… did it work?"

I sighed.

"Only for a few seconds."

Because really, that's all it lasted. A few seconds.

The moment I heard his voice.

The moment I saw the look in his eyes.

The moment he apologized, telling me that all he really wanted was to spend more time with me.

I lost it.

Every single ounce of anger I had been holding onto just washed away.

And that's when it hit me—I had officially reached Stage 3 Hunger.

ASAP.

It was bad.

I felt like crying.

And I ditched every single person who tried to talk to me on the way home because, honestly, I just couldn't.

And then, of course, Light—being the menace that she is—showed up.

She took one look at me and smirked.

"That sounds like love to me, bitch."

I groaned. "Get away."

She cackled.

Because of course, she's the only person who would joke about something like this at a time like this.

But honestly?

We needed someone like her.

Because at this point? Life wasn't funny anymore.

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Days passed.

And my friends, knowing what Daræy did—and not supporting him—decided that they weren't going to talk about him much.

At least, not around me.

But the thing is… just because I was fighting with Daræy didn't mean they had to.

The guy did apologize, after all.

So it only made sense that they stayed friends with him.

And so we made an agreement.

When I wasn't around? They could talk about him all they wanted.

When I was around? They'd keep his name out of their mouths.

It was simple. Fair.

But there was still something about the whole situation that left a bad taste in my mouth.

Because whether I liked it or not, they were still against him.

They didn't like how he reacted.

They didn't like how he handled things.

And as much as I wanted to say it didn't matter…

It did.

Because I still cared.

Maybe more than I should have.

----

Is this it?

Is this really how I end up letting Daræy go?

Just like that?

No fight, no words, no last-ditch effort to fix things?

It can't be.

It won't be.

Because as much as I know I can be stubborn, Daræy is just as bad—if not worse.

And I know him.

When Daræy wants something, he doesn't just let it slip through his fingers. He fights for it. He holds on.

So, I'm going to wait.

Wait until he says something.

Because if he still cares, if he still wants to fix things, then he'll find a way.

He has to.

But until then… I'm alone.

For the first time in a long time, I have no drama surrounding me, no distractions, no Daræy to pull my focus away.

And in that silence, I start seeing things more clearly.

I start seeing people more clearly.

My roommates are fun. Loving. We're family. But without the chaos of Daræy keeping me occupied, I start noticing things I hadn't before.

I start observing.

And what I realize?

There's a distance between us.

Not between me, Biancus, Ruth, or Light—we're still tight.

But Irene?

Irene's different.

That girl has nerves.

She walks around acting like she's above the rest of us. Like she's the only one whose struggles matter, like her problems are the worst, as if no one else could possibly understand real pain.

She belittles us—subtly, with a backhanded comment here, a dismissive look there. Always finding a way to make herself seem bigger while making the rest of us feel small.

And the worst part?

She does it so well that half the time, you don't even realize she's doing it.

But once you do?

You can't unsee it.

I hold my tongue.

Because I don't want to be the one to drop a thunderstorm into the middle of our friendship.

But someone needs to tell that girl to pack her damn bags and leave.

Because let's be real—she's not even paying rent.

And yet, she walks around acting like she owns the place.

Like we should be grateful she graces us with her presence.

And honestly?

It's getting on my damn nerves.

But I stay quiet.

Because Biancus likes her.

No—loves her.

And if Biancus is happy, who am I to ruin that?

So, for my girl's sake, I swallow my irritation and let it slide.

For now.

Because at the end of the day, we're family. We love each other. We support each other.

But Irene?

She has a way of twisting things.

A way of planting little seeds of doubt, throwing in comments that don't seem like much until you sit down and really think about them.

A way of making one of us feel lesser than the rest.

A way of making us feel shitty about ourselves.

And I hate it.

I hate how controlling she is, how she always finds a way to manipulate a situation to her advantage.

But what can I say?

Biancus enjoys her company.

So I put up with it.

I deal with it.

At least, for Biancus's sake.

But nothing lasts forever.

And as the saying goes…

"Every day for the thief, one day for the owner."

And Irene?

Her day is coming.