The ambulance sirens wail through the night, their harsh red glow illuminating Helena's tear-streaked face as she clutches a bouquet of lilies. The white petals tremble in her shaking hands, matching the tremors running through her athletic frame. "They said he won't make it, Carla," she whispers, her usually confident voice cracking. "Because of us. Because he jumped in front." Carla's arms wrap around her, but Helena barely feels them, her brownish-blue eyes fixed on the hospital doors where {{user}} has disappeared. "My parents..." she continues, each word like glass in her throat, "they said they can get him to a specialist in Japan, but I have to—I have to stay away from him. Forever." The lilies crush against her chest with a suppressed sob. "What choice do I have?"

Seven years later, Helena adjusts her modest blazer as she crosses the Touka University campus, her waist-length raven hair neatly styled with two face-framing strands. The heart-shaped locket at her throat feels unusually heavy today, the cut-out face inside it a constant reminder of her bargain. Her steps falter as a voice calls her name—a voice that makes her stomach drop and her ears disbelieve. Slowly, she turns, her pale face carefully composed despite the earthquake happening beneath her ribs. There stands {{user}}—alive, whole, unscarred except for perhaps the hurt in his eyes. The years have changed him, but she would know him anywhere. "Excuse me," she says coldly, her tone at odds with the wild thumping of her heart. "I believe you're mistaken. I don't know you." She adjusts the strap of her designer bag, ignoring the voice screaming inside her to run to him, to touch him, to verify he's real. "Please don't approach me again," she adds, her words precise and cutting. "It's inappropriate." She walks away, her posture perfect, her step unwavering—the perfect politician's daughter. Only the white-knuckled grip on her bag betrays the cost of this performance.

Her entire body clenches at his touch, every muscle twitching in protest as she fights the urge to melt into him. "Let me go," she whispers hoarsely, her voice shaking with a mix of anger and fear. "You're not part of my life anymore."

"Because I made a deal," she says through gritted teeth. "With my parents." Her arms remain rigid at her sides, refusing to relax even the smallest amount. "I can't be seen with you anymore."

Her face twists in anger and shame as she pulls away, finally free from his grip. "They're my parents!" she snaps, her voice harsh even to her own ears. "They know what's best for me."

The hurt in his eyes mirrors the ache inside her chest, but she forces it down, refusing to give him any more power over her than he already has. "Just leave me alone," she mutters, turning away once again.

She bites back a sob, the sound lodged in her throat like bile. "I can't," she whispers, forcing herself to ignore his pleading gaze. "They made me a promise... they'd help me become something more than what I am now, if I just left you behind."

Her words taste like ash as she speaks them, but she knows it's the truth. The pain of their separation is eating her alive from the inside out, but she can't let herself fall apart in front of him. Not again.

Her eyes flash with anger, frustration, and sadness in equal measure as she turns to face him once more. "They didn't say we couldn't be friends," she says through gritted teeth, her tone accusatory. "They just said I shouldn't 'associate' with you."

The air between them crackles with tension, thick and suffocating. She knows he can see the conflict within her, the struggle to maintain her composure, and it makes every muscle in her body twitch with discomfort. "I can't," she whispers, shaking her head. "They would never understand."

Her face contorts into a look of pure misery as she tries to shake her head, but the motion comes out more like a wobbly nod. "No," she manages through gritted teeth. "I can't."

The admission feels like a knife twisting in her gut, ripping her apart from the inside out. But it's the truth, and she has to hold onto some semblance of reality if she ever wants to move past this pain. The thought of him seeing her as anything but the strong, together person she pretends to be is too much for her to bear.

Her breath catches in her throat as his arms circle around her, the strength of his embrace both comforting and disorienting. Part of her wants to melt into him, to feel the warmth of his body against hers once more. But another part resists, clinging desperately to the lies she's built up over the years in order to survive.

She fights the urge to cry out, to lean into him like she wants, instead stiffening her spine and burying her face against his shoulder. Her whole body trembles with unshed tears as she tries to focus on anything but how good it feels to be in his arms again. "Don't," she whispers brokenly, "Please don't make this harder than it already is."

Her voice comes out raspy and barely audible above the blood rushing in her ears. "I can't," she whispers, squeezing her eyes shut as hot tears trail down her cheeks. "It's not that simple." Her body trembles with suppressed sobs as she clings to him, drawing strength from his solid form and familiar scent. "Please just let me go," she begs, the desperation in her voice making it crack. "Just forget about this."

But even as she says the words, she knows they're meaningless. He already holds a piece of her heart that no one else can ever replace, and she fears that if she lets him go again, she might not survive the loss. The conflict within her tears her apart from the inside out, leaving her feeling raw and exposed in his arms.

"Then stop wanting to," she whispers through her tears, her voice raspy and thick with unshed emotion. "Just forget about me, and go find someone who'll make you happy." She tries to pull away from him, but his grip is too tight, his touch too familiar, too comforting. It's a cruel reminder of everything she's lost and everything she can never have again.

She takes a shuddering breath, forcing herself to meet his eyes despite the pain that threatens to undo her. "Please," she whispers hoarsely. "Just let me go."

Her heart twists painfully in her chest as his words wash over her like a wave, threatening to drown her in the torrent of conflicting emotions. "Then what do you want from me?" she whispers, her voice barely above a whisper now. "How can this ever work when I can't have both? My parents and my friends..."

Her voice trails off as she looks down at her feet, her mind spinning in circles, searching for an answer that doesn't exist. She wants him more than anything else in the world, but she can't defy her parents; not if she ever wants to have a real future of her own.

Her breath hitches as he tightens his grip around her, and despite herself, she leans into the embrace, closing her eyes as tears spill down her cheeks once more. It feels like they've been through this a hundred

Her heart skips a beat at his promise, hope flaring up inside her like a match in the darkness. But even as she tells herself to hold onto it, some small part of her knows that they're doomed from the start. She can't defy her parents; she has to be the perfect princess they want her to be, and there's no room for rebellion or heartache in their world.

She draws a shaky breath, forcing herself to meet his eyes once more before leaning back slightly, putting a sliver of space between them. "I wish I could," she whispers. "But I can't."

Her voice cracks on the final word, and she blinks rapidly as another tear escapes, trailing down her cheek. She doesn't know how much longer she can do this, pretend that he doesn't mean anything to her when he's the only

Her throat closes as he repeats his promise, and she can't help but hope that maybe this time, things will be different. But even as her heart soars on the thought, her mind clings to reality, to the cold, hard truth of their situation. There is no easy solution; there never was. She knows that in order for them to be together, she would have to risk everything: her future, her family's love, maybe even her life. And as much as it hurts to imagine giving all of that up, she can't do it.

She draws a shuddering breath, forcing herself to meet his determined gaze once more before wrapping her arms around herself, hugging herself tightly. "I wish I could believe you," she whispers softly. "But I don't know how."

She looks at him, searching his eyes for any sign that he might be lying to her. But all she sees is sincerity and determination. It's almost enough to make her believe in him, to trust that they could find a way through this mess together. But she knows better than anyone how easily promises can be broken, especially when families are involved.

With a sigh, she lets her arms fall to her sides once more, her gaze dropping to the ground as she wrestles with herself, torn between hope and fear. "I want to," she whispers. "More than anything else in the world... but I can't risk it."

Her heart aches at his words, and she wants nothing more than to trust him, to let go and allow herself to be free with him again. But the weight of her responsibilities press down upon her like a lead blanket, making it impossible for her to surrender so completely. She looks up at him with tears in her eyes, her expression filled with regret and longing.

"I'm sorry," she whispers brokenly. "It isn't fair of me to ask that of you." Her hands clench into fists at her sides as she fights back the urge to reach out for him once more, to feel his touch and lose herself in the moment. But she knows she can't. Not if she ever wants to have a future beyond this constant struggle between duty and desire.

Her eyes widen in disbelief as she takes a step back, staring at him in amazement. She hadn't expected him to be so adamant, so willing to risk everything for her. But even as hope flickers to life within her chest, doubt and fear follow close behind. This is the same man who saved her life once, she reminds herself, the one who would do anything for her. Yet with their families involved, there is no such thing as a fair fight.

She shakes her head, struggling against the emotion clogging up her throat. "I can't ask you to do that," she whispers hoarsely. "It isn't right." Her gaze drops to the ground, tears streaming down her cheeks as she fights to find the words that will ease the ache in his heart as much as hers. "I'm sorry," she chokes out, her

Her heart twists painfully at his words, and she wants nothing more than to trust him, to give in to the hope that he offers her. But the memory of their last argument still lingers, a bitter taste on her tongue. She takes a shaky breath, trying to find the strength to turn away from him, even though every fiber of her being screams against it. "I can't," she whispers hoarsely, her voice catching on the words. "It isn't fair."

With one last, reluctant glance in his direction, she turns and walks away, the sound of her footsteps echoing hollowly through the empty hallway. She knows that this is likely the last time they will ever be together like this, but even as she leaves him behind, she can't shake the feeling that she's making the wrong choice.

I wince as his grip tightens on my arm and I try to pull away. "You don't understand," I say, my voice shaking with emotion. "I can't just disobey them like that. They would never forgive me." My eyes search his face for any hint of understanding, but all I see is determination and pain mirroring mine.

With a final sigh, I close my eyes and lean into him, allowing myself one last moment of comfort before pushing away once more. "I'm sorry," I whisper hoarsely, feeling like the words aren't enough to express how much this hurts me too. "Just... please don't make this harder than it already is."

And with that final plea, I force myself to turn and walk away from him again, my heart heavy in my chest as I leave a piece of myself behind in his arms.