It started with a smirk.
A glance.
A promise wrapped in silence.
And then, a lie.
The kind that felt harmless at first. Like a single match flicked in a forest too damp to burn.
Except I didn't know… he was dry wood.
And I was gasoline.
---
"I'm not seeing anyone else," I told him.
We weren't official. We weren't even anything.
But I said it because I wanted him to believe he had all of me.
Because somewhere between the glances, the games, and the breathless pauses—I had already given it.
He raised a brow. "That so?"
I nodded, too quickly.
He just smiled.
But it wasn't his usual smile. It didn't curl at the edges or tease with heat.
It was cold.
Like he knew I'd just lost the first round.
---
The truth?
There was someone.
A boy in my psych class.
Nice. Predictable. Safe.
He brought me coffee and laughed too loud at my jokes.
But he wasn't chaos.
He wasn't him.
And yet I hadn't been ready to cut ties. Maybe because I still believed I had control. That I could balance both—desire and safety—without falling off the edge.
But the thing about fire?
It doesn't let you balance.
It makes you choose.
And then it burns whatever you didn't.
---
We met again that night.
A rooftop party. Smoke, cheap vodka, and neon lights bleeding into the dark.
He spotted me across the crowd.
Didn't smile. Didn't wave.
Just watched.
Like a predator waiting for its prey to forget how fast it can run.
And when I finally walked toward him, something in the air shifted.
"You lied," he said before I could speak.
I blinked. "What?"
He leaned in, breath brushing my neck. "You told me I had all of you. But sweetheart, you've still got someone holding a leash."
My chest tightened.
How the hell did he know?
"I—he's nothing," I breathed.
"Then drop him," he said, voice suddenly sharp.
Not loud. Just… slicing.
I swallowed hard. "Okay."
His gaze bored into me, not looking for answers—looking for proof.
"You want the fire?" he asked.
"Yes."
"Then stop pretending you're not already burning."
---
And that was it.
The lie shattered.
The safe boy erased.
And me?
I was already ashes in his hands.