Chapter 8: Can't turn it off

Milie's POV

I was asleep when my phone buzzed. Half-conscious, I reached under my pillow and answered without checking.

"Whoever this is… can we talk later?" I mumbled—and hung up.

I was out again in seconds. Sleep hadn't come easily last night. Every time I closed my eyes, the same moments replayed.

Him… My idiot neighbour… That stupid chocolate. The way he'd said things so casually… like they meant nothing. And somehow… meant everything.

My phone buzzed again. I groaned, dragging it back to my ear. "Please… just let me sleep."

"Milie, why are you still sleeping?"

Even in my half-asleep state, I recognized his voice. I smiled. "Dax… thank God it's you."

"Why? Were you expecting someone else?"

"No," I muttered quickly. "Just tired."

"Wake up, you had a match today." My lips moved before my brain could catch up.

"I have nothing except one thing… HIM." I said, whining. "He’s been haunting me all night."

"Milie…" Daxton's voice sharpened. "What are you talking about? Are you drunk?"

"No," I groaned. "Just… hallucinating. Forget it. Please, I don't want to talk about him again. One night with him was enough."

Before he could ask more, I hung up and drifted back to sleep, and an hour later, something brushed lightly across my face.

I flinched awake.

"Relax," Daxton said softly. "It's me."

I exhaled, pressing a hand to my chest. "Jesus… what are you doing here?"

His gaze dropped to my leg. "You should've told me. How could you not?" His voice was irritating.

"We didn't," I said, still drowsy. "Because you had your match. You would've left everything and come running."

He didn't deny it. That was the problem. I rose and sat up on the bed.

"I can’t imagine how much would have hurt," he said. "You wait all year for this."

"I know," I said, softer now. "But I’m okay."

"Liar," he said gently. "The way you were talking on the phone? You're not okay."

I blinked, confused. "You called me?"

He frowned. "Yeah. You don't remember?"

My stomach dropped, recalling a bit. "No… Did I say something?"

"Yeah, you said someone was haunting you."

"Ohh… is it?" I pretended to be naive. I knew who that someone was. I don't even remember picking up your call."

His eyes searched mine for a second too long before he pulled me into a hug. And just like that, it felt the same as always–Safe, comforting.

"Talk to me," he murmured. So I did, everything about the match, the fall, and the moment I realized I had to walk out.

But skipped Alan's part. He hugged me again, and tears rolled down my face, but I wiped them quickly.

"Now go, you’ve got a match."

"I've got time," he said easily. "I'm not leaving before breakfast."

Then, without warning, he lifted me into his arms. I wrapped my arms around his neck instinctively. With him, it had always been this easy.

"Remember our first hike?" I asked.

He smiled. "The one where you gave up in thirty minutes?"

"Hehehe, yes, and you hiked, carrying me on your back like a hero."

"Yeah, my back pained for a week."

"Yeah, and Sammy made fun of you."

We both laughed and stepped into the living room to find my Mom at the door, and so Alan outside, on the other side.

My stomach dropped. His eyes met mine. Then flicked to Daxton. And just like that, his expression changed. His smile faded, and his jaw tightened slightly.

"Dax… put me down," I whispered. I, too, felt unsettled for the first time. Otherwise, it was no big deal even for my parents.

Daxton hesitated, but when I emphasized again, he did.

"Hey," Mom said casually, stepping aside. "Come in."

"No, aunty," Alan said quickly. "She forgot these chocolates in the car."

He held out the bag, not even glancing at me.

"Oh—Milie left these?" Mom said, taking it with a small smile. "That’s rare."

"Thanks," Mom added.

"No problem," he said, flatly, and left—no teasing, no smile, no glance, nothing.

The door shut, and heaviness crept into my heart.

"Such a wonderful boy. Even after the insult, he carefully got her home," Mom said to Daxton and retired into the kitchen before dropping chocolates on the sofa.

"What happened yesterday?" Daxton's voice cut in. "What is aunty talking about? And how did your chocolate reach his car?"

I looked up. He was watching, waiting for my reply.

I swallowed. "Uhmmm… Actually. Yesterday, he… drove us home."

"And he is the one who haunted you, isn't he?"

I gave a nod hesitantly.

"And you deliberately hid it from me, right?"

"Yes, because I didn’t want to distract you."

"With what?"

"With… this. He's not like other guys," I said quietly. "He's… different. He—"

Daxton's jaw tightened. "Do you like him?"

My heart stuttered. "What? No," I said quickly. "It’s not like that."

"Then what is it?"

"I don't know. I don't like him, but he is not even dislikeable." I explained. "I will tell you everything in deta—

"I should go," Daxton said suddenly, standing up.

"What? Now?"

"I'm getting late."

"Dax—"

"I'll call you later."

He didn't look at me. That scared me more than anything else.

"Don't be mad, please." I said softly.

He paused at the door and gave me a small smile.

"Not at all,"

But I knew he was lying. The door shut behind him, and I plopped on the sofa.

"Ahhh… I messed up." I whined and almost tried to trash the chocolate bag, but I couldn't.

Instead, I shoved it behind the pillow away from my eyes to balance the guilt from both sides.