After showering back at his dorm, Lawrence instinctively called her to say goodnight, but there was no answer.
He sent a text, and minutes ticked by with no reply.
Figuring she was simply exhausted from the trip and had passed out, he typed a quick 'Goodnight.' Just as he was about to close WhatsApp, her name at the top of the screen shifted to 'Typing...'
He waited patiently. A painfully long time passed, only for the status to revert back to her name.
No message came through.
Frowning in confusion, he sent a single question mark. Still nothing. He tried calling again, but the call was instantly rejected.
A heavy feeling of unease settled in his gut. Throwing his jacket on, he rushed out of the room, sprinting toward her dorm building while repeatedly dialing her number.
Every single call went straight to voicemail.
When he finally reached the ground floor of her building, out of breath and preparing to text her that he was downstairs, her reply finally arrived.
[Stop calling. I've thought about it, and I'm sorry. I can't accept you. We aren't a good match.]
The world tilted on its axis. It felt as if a physical blow had slammed into his chest, draining all the color from his face.
He absolutely refused to accept this.
They had literally been laughing on the drive back. She had been reluctant to let him go just hours ago. She had feelings for him—why was she pushing him away?
What the hell had happened?
But no matter how frantic his texts became or how many times he called, she vanished into total silence.
Curfew hit, and the dorm doors were locked tight. He didn't want to cause a massive scene and bring unnecessary drama to her doorstep. So, he had no choice but to wait.

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