To Olivia, Lucio's face remained calm, unreadable. But, beneath the surface, panic clawed at his chest. His fingers twitched at his sides, his throat dry. He couldn't let it show. Not yet.
"Lucio! I've reached my limit. Why do you keep ignoring me? And when did you start this smoking habit?"
Olivia's voice cut through, sharp and relentless. She planted her feet firmly, hands clenched at her sides.
Lucio swallowed hard, keeping his face unreadable.
He wanted to say something—anything—but the words tangled in his throat. His heart pounded.
Ba-dump… (pause)… Ba-dump…
His pulse a steady drum in his ears.
"It's not a habit," he muttered,
eyes darting to the ground. "It's just... something."
But Olivia wasn't having it. "'Just something?' That's the best you've got?"
Her frustration flared.
"You've been distant, acting weird, and now this? You think I wouldn't notice?"
Lucio felt cornered. Should he deflect and change the subject, or finally admit what was bothering him?
"You've been hanging out with bad kids, haven't you? Is that why you've been acting strange?"
"What?" Lucio blinked, taken aback.
His brows knitted together as he tried to process Olivia's words.
"Lucio…" Olivia's voice wavered as she looked at him with a hurt expression.
"Do you hate me that much? You've been acting strange since the day I shared my secret."
"I—I didn't mean to bother you. I'll just go. Forget everything, okay?", leaving a bittersweet smile.
As she walks away.
Lucio's grip was firm but not forceful, his fingers curling around Olivia's wrist as if trying to anchor her there, to stop her from walking away. His voice wavered.
"Ah—Via, you've got it all wrong. "
Olivia stiffened, her frustration clashing with surprise.
"Then explain it to me." Her voice wasn't as sharp now, but the tension lingered.
"Because right now, all I feel and see is you shutting me out."
"I—I got scared when you told me your secret. I... I don't know what to do."
Olivia's expression softened, but only just. The anger hadn't fully faded, replaced instead by something more complicated—concern, uncertainty, maybe even a hint of hurt.
"Scared?" she repeated,
"You just shut down instead of talking to me?"
Lucio opened his mouth, but no words came out. His mind raced, tangled with guilt, uncertainty, and the weight of Olivia's hurt gaze.
"I... how?" His voice was barely above a whisper.
He exhaled shakily, running a hand through his hair.
"How can I fix everything?"
Olivia's expression flickered—anger, sadness, something in between.
"You start by talking to me, Lucio," she said, her voice softer now but still firm.
"Not shutting me out. Not running away..."
"I know… I'm sorry. It's not that I don't want to talk—it's just hard. Hard to find the right words."
"I should've talked to you sooner. I just… didn't know how."
Oliva: "Then you should, starting tomorrow. Promise me, okay?"
"Tomorrow. Right. I'll—I'll do my best. I don't know if I'm good at this, but I'll try."