"Those bastards..." Rudy muttered through gritted teeth.
The mood in the room had shifted completely. The air grew heavy as the teens wrestled with the weight of what Michael had narrowly survived. For a moment, no one said a word. Melody still hadn’t let go.
"I’m so sorry, Michael..." she whispered, her voice muffled against his chest. Her body trembled as she clung to him, and to his surprise, her words came between soft, hiccuping sobs.
I didn’t think she’d react ...
He hesitated, unsure what to do.
His hand moved halfway up her back, intending to comfort her. But then it stalled—frozen mid-air. Were they close enough for something ?
Before he could make a decision, Melody lifted her head. Michael quickly tucked his hand behind his back, trying to act casual.
"If it wasn’t for me, none of this would’ve happened..." she said quietly. Tears streamed down her cheeks, her sapphire eyes shimmering as the sunlight hit them—fragile, glistening, and heartbreakingly beautiful.
Michael’s heart clenched.
"Nonsense," he said firmly. "You didn’t tell them to attack me. How could you possibly blame yourself?"
His tone was gentle, but resolute.
Yes, the incident had stemmed from the political games surrounding her potential marriage—but Melody had been just as much a pawn as he was. The real mastermind behind the ordeal was her father, Brian Winterborne.
And while Michael couldn’t deny that the man had his reasons, understanding didn’t make forgiveness any easier. Maybe if Brian had simply explained the situation, he might’ve offered to help in his own way.
But that possibility had been taken from him.
Melody’s expression softened slightly, the guilt in her eyes receding. But just as quickly, something else took its place—embarrassment. Her face flushed a deep red, as if she’d only now realized what she’d done.
She stepped back suddenly and stumbled, barely catching herself.
"I-I’m just glad you’re alive," she mumbled, turning away to hide her burning cheeks.
Michael gave a small nod.
"Me too," he replied, his voice low—hoping to steady the sudden thudding in his chest.
Rudy, usually quick to tease, remained silent. The weight of the earlier revelation still hung over him. His usual smirk was gone, replaced by a rare seriousness. Original content can be found at N0v3l.Fiɾe.net
"Why were you alone?" he asked after a pause, his tone stern. "Didn’t we agree that none of us would walk the halls alone anymore?"
Melody’s face paled. Whatever comfort Michael’s words had brought her vanished instantly. Guilt returned like a crashing wave. She should have been the one accompanying him from the student council meeting.
Michael stepped in before she could say anything.
"That was my fault," he said, puffing his chest slightly. "I asked to speak with Magnus after the student council meeting..."
As he spoke, realization hit him. He hadn’t told Rudy the news yet.
So much had happened since the morning that it had completely slipped his mind.
"That’s no excuse, Michael," Rudy snapped. His voice was unusually grave. "We knew the risks. You chose to ignore them. Both of you did," he added, his gaze now fixed on Melody.
"I don’t know what you needed to discuss with Magnus, but was it so important that you’d risk your life? Are you that ignorant... or just that stupid?"
Each word hit harder than the last. His tone was sharper than Michael had ever heard it—brimming with frustration, fear, and something more: helplessness.
It was like watching a ticking time bomb—each second building toward an inevitable explosion.
Michael was caught off guard. Rudy’s reaction was far more intense than he’d anticipated. Sure, he had broken protocol by walking alone—but it wasn’t like he wanted to get ambushed and beaten within an inch of his life. At worst, he’d expected a bit of a scuffle... not attempted murder.
"Look, man. I messed up," Michael admitted, lifting his hands slightly in a show of surrender. He wasn’t trying to excuse himself—just to ease the tension.
In his mind, Rudy was only lashing out because he cared.
But Rudy’s reaction went beyond what Michael expected.
His nostrils flared, and his chest rose and fell with ragged breaths.
"Messed up!?" he roared. "You were almost killed, you idiot!"
Spittle flew from his mouth as the words burst out.
Melody flinched beside them, clearly startled by the outburst.
Michael frowned, a defensive retort forming on his tongue—until he saw it.
They formed at the corners of Rudy’s eyes, clinging stubbornly as his fury cracked into something more raw.
The sight hit Michael like a punch to the gut.
He stepped forward silently and pulled Rudy into a hug, wrapping his arms around his trembling shoulders. At first, the boy resisted, stiffening in his grip.
But after a moment... he gave in.
"I’m sorry, man," Michael murmured, gently patting his back. "I was selfish."
Rudy’s breathing slowed—his chest no longer heaving with rage. But in its place came quiet sobs.
"I already lost my family..." he whispered, his voice barely audible. "I can’t lose you too, Michael."
The words pierced Michael deeper than any blade. His arms tightened slightly as the guilt settled heavy on his shoulders.
In that moment, Rudy wasn’t just a loudmouthed, carefree teenager.
He was a boy—grieving, terrified of losing someone he cared about.
And somehow, Michael realized, he cared just as deeply in return.
"You won’t lose me, Rudy," he said, voice steady and full of resolve. "We’re going to get stronger—strong enough that nothing in this world can beat us."
He stepped back, offering a warm, reassuring smile.
"You, me, and Melody... we’ll be an unstoppable force. Together."
From the side, Melody’s lips curled into a smile.
Rudy sniffled, rubbing his eyes before nodding—his usual bravado slowly returning.
For a moment, the three stood in peaceful silence... until an unexpected rumble echoed through the room.
Melody blinked, alarm flickering across her face.
But Michael broke into laughter.
"Sorry, guys. I skipped both breakfast and lunch," he said with a wry grin, rubbing his stomach as it groaned again.
Laughter soon filled the room, shattering the lingering gloom with ease.
And just like that, the weight lifted—if only for a moment.