"You're frustrated."
It wasn't a question.
Maya let out a quiet, breathy laugh, low and humorless. "That obvious?"
Astron set his cup down. "You tried to de-escalate, and they refused to listen."
Maya's gaze flickered toward him. He wasn't asking.
He already knew.
Of course, he knew.
"You let them do what they wanted instead," she murmured, her voice quiet, unreadable.
Astron didn't look away. "It was inevitable."
Inevitable.
Maya's fingers twitched.
There it was again—his distance.
That way he always spoke, as if he was watching everything from above, as if he wasn't a part of it but merely an observer.
"He didn't stop it either."
Her other self's voice curled at the edges of her thoughts, dark and laced with something close to satisfaction.
"You know that, right? He didn't stop it. Just like you couldn't."
Maya exhaled sharply. "You don't sound concerned."
Astron held her gaze, his violet eyes steady, unwavering.
"There are some things that are hard to control," he said, his voice even, calm. "One needs to accept that."
Maya's fingers stilled against her sleeve.
She looked at him then, truly looked at him, searching for something behind those detached, knowing words.
A quiet scoff left her lips, but it lacked real bite. "But you should do your best to control such things," she murmured. "Isn't that what you've said to me before?"
Astron didn't blink. "It is."
A pause.
"But sometimes, control is not an option," he continued. "And you just need to coexist with that fact."
Maya felt something settle deep in her chest—something heavy, something uncomfortable.
Because she knew exactly what he was implying.
It wasn't about the Sophomore-Freshmen conflict.
It was about her.
Her other self.
She had been trying. She had been trying so hard. She had spoken with her, acknowledged her, even started understanding her in ways she never thought she would.
And yet—
There was still a part of her that was scared.
A part of her that still resisted, that still feared what might happen if she let go completely.
And her other self knew.
"Hah."
The voice slithered through her mind, dark and amused. "What a sharp one, isn't he?"
Maya didn't move, but she could feel her other self curling around her thoughts, watching with something dangerously close to satisfaction.
"He sees through you, just like that. How fascinating."
Maya exhaled, barely above a whisper. "You think so?"
Her other self hummed in thought. "It's a rare thing, for someone to understand the things you refuse to admit to yourself. And yet, there he is, saying it like it's just simple fact."
A small smirk.
"How infuriatingly insightful of him."
Maya resisted the urge to sigh, rubbing her temple lightly before speaking.
"So, what?" she murmured. "You're saying I should just… let go?"
Astron tilted his head slightly, his gaze still steady. "I'm saying that fighting something that is inherently a part of you is a battle you can't win."
Maya felt her breath still.
He didn't phrase it as a warning.
He phrased it as a truth.
One that she wasn't sure she was ready to accept yet.
But her other self?
She laughed.
"Oh, I want him so much."
Maya's breath hitched.
It was happening again.
That slow, creeping hunger surged through her veins, pressing against the walls of her restraint like an unrelenting tide. Her fingers trembled slightly, curling into the fabric of her uniform as she fought the urge to move—to act.
Her breathing turned shallow, uneven.
The air in the room felt heavier, thick with something unseen.
"This is what you are."
Her other self's voice whispered through her thoughts, smooth and indulgent.
"You can suppress it, you can deny it, you can try to pretend it's not real—but we both know the truth, don't we?"
Maya clenched her teeth, her body stiffening as her vision pulsed with red.
No.
Not now.
Not in front of him.
Her breath shuddered as she tried to steady herself, but her lips parted before she could stop them.
"Junior…"
The word slipped past her throat, barely above a whisper.
Astron, still seated across from her, barely moved—but his violet gaze sharpened, locking onto her with quiet precision.
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