Warning: R-18
Flashpoint
Avery's Point of View
The pool had turned back into noise and sunlight when a sudden clatter cut through the music, not a shattering crash but the sharp knock of glass against tile that made the staff look up and made the laughter thin for a breath.
I saw Elliot speak to the waiter with a tight mouth, the way people do when they are trying to keep a lid on something already boiling. He pivoted away from the bar with his shoulders set, not rushing yet not strolling, and the crowd opened without quite knowing why.
"Parang nagalit yata boyfriend mo. Habulin mo," bulong ni Kiefer na parang asar pero may halong pag aalala. I rolled my eyes for show, grabbed my tote and my room key, then slipped off the lounger to follow.
He was already half a corridor ahead by the time I cleared the stairs. Pinabilis ko ang lakad, halos tumatakbo na ako sa hallway na parang mas makitid kapag madali.
Maliit ang biyas ko kaya nahuhuli pa rin ako, at sa tuwing liliko siya ay napapahawak ako sa rail para hindi madulas. He turned into our wing, passed two doors, and disappeared through one of them without looking back.
"Elliot," I called, steady but urgent, yet the corridor swallowed my voice.
Pagbukas ko ng pinto, nahila niya ako papasok at ang likod ko ay sumalo sa malamig na kahoy. The door clicked shut under my shoulder and his arms caged me, not crushing, just decisive, palms planted on either side near the frame, head bowed until his forehead touched mine.
Ramdam ko ang bigat ng paghinga niya, hindi dahil sa pagod, kundi dahil sa pagpipigil. His inhale was deep and counted. His exhale trembled at the edges. He kept his eyes closed for a second as if sight would make the feeling worse.
"Bakit tinanggap mo ang tuwalya na ibinigay niya, pero yung akin iniwan mo sa upuan," he whispered, voice low and rough from holding too much. He kissed me once, quick and hard, like punctuation he could not help, then pulled back before I could catch up.
"Dahil—" I started, and the word broke when his mouth found the place under my jaw, not careless, not cruel, just a need pressed into skin he already knew.
Napasabunot ako nang kaunti, not to push him away but to anchor myself because the floor felt like water. His breath was warm against my throat and the sound that left me was not a plan.
He stilled and brought his nose to mine again.
"I told you you are mine," he murmured, and the sentence sat between us like a wire.
"Only mine. When I say mine, I mean you are a treasure I will not lose twice. I share nothing that is mine, especially you." His eyes were not wild. They were scared, and scared looks like anger when a man has been practicing armor for too long. "I am not letting the past repeat. Hindi ko na hahayaang mangyari ulit ang mawala ka."
"Nobody owns me," I said, steadying my voice, reminding both of us who I am now.
He did not argue with words. He kissed me again, deeper and hotter, the kind that steals logic and gives it back as heat. My body recognized the gravity of it and moved without waiting for permission slips from the part of my brain that writes rules.
His mouth softened then claimed. His hands slid from the door to my waist and traced the line of my spine with a pressure that asked rather than took, and the arc of my back answered.
He found the tie of my bikini top and paused long enough for my nod before loosening it, then he pressed kisses down the curve of my shoulder as if the years had been a long cold hallway and this room was finally warm.
"Say that again and I will stop," he breathed at my ear, but the words did not come out as a threat.
They came out as a dare to the part of me that still thinks strength is silence. "Sabihin mo ulit at hihinto ako."
"Please do not stop," I said, and I hated how desperate I sounded and loved how honest it was. The plea unlocked something in him. His hands steadied at my waist, thumbs drawing slow circles that climbed heat up the ladder of my ribs.
He did not rush to take. He stayed to build. He found the small hollow at the base of my throat and kissed it with a patience that set my nerves alight. He lifted me just enough that my toes left the floor for one heartbeat and the world narrowed to the circle of his arms. When he set me down the room felt different, as if the air had moved to make space.
"Say you love me first," he whispered, eyes on my mouth, not bargaining, more like asking for a light in a room he was afraid to walk through. I kissed him in answer, hoping the shape of it could carry the words I was not ready to let out. He kissed me back once and then pulled away a breath, stubborn and hurting.
"Just say you love me," he asked again, voice softer now, and it cracked at the end like a string pulled too tight. I met his gaze and the argument in me ran into the edge of my own pride.
Gusto kong sabihin. Ayaw kong magmukhang mahina. My throat closed around the sentence and all I managed was a whisper. "Just kiss me."
His palm thudded softly against the door behind me, not a slam, more a surrender. The sound traveled through the frame into my bones. I saw it then, the anger that was mostly sadness, the frustration that was mostly fear.
"Bakit ang hirap mo akong mahalin ngayon," he asked, voice low enough to pass under a door. "Ano pa ba ang kailangan kong gawin para maniwala ka. Wala na ba talaga kahit kaunti."
He rested his forehead on my shoulder and let go of my wrists, arms dropping to his sides like a man who has run out of choreography.
"Sinabi mong kailangan mo ng oras," he continued, calmer but more raw.
"I gave it without questions. Tapos nagbukas ka ng pinto para sa iba. Sinabi mong baka gusto mo rin siya. Alam mo bang ang hirap pakinggan niyan habang pilit kong inaayos ang sarili ko para hindi kita pilitin. Sinasabi ng utak kong bitawan ka pero hindi kaya ng puso ko. Wala na ba talaga kahit isang katiting ng pag-asa? Sabihin mo sa akin para marunong akong umatras."
He lifted his head and framed my face with his hands. The light from the balcony drew a thin silver line along his lashes. His eyes were wet and he did not blink them dry.
"Do you still love me," he asked, and the room went very still.
"I... I don't know," I answered, because any other answer would be a lie and the room deserved better than that.
I watched the sentence land on him like a wind he had braced for and still underestimated. He smiled, not the kind that lifts anything, the kind that covers a hurt so it does not spill on the floor.
He stepped back and the space between us felt like a crossing. He turned, opened the door, and left without slamming it, which somehow hurt more. The latch clicked.
The hallway swallowed his footsteps. I slid down the wood and sat on the floor, knees to my chest, breath catching in the place where sobs begin.
The tears came slow then faster, not the dramatic kind, the kind that just need gravity and a quiet room. I stayed there until the light shifted and the sounds outside grew soft.
I crawled onto the bed without undressing and lay on my side. Sleep arrived in pieces, the kind that drops you and picks you up in the same minute. When I woke the room was quieter and my throat felt scraped, the way it does when a storm passes.
I rinsed my face, tied my hair, and told my reflection the part I had not been able to tell him. Mahal ko siya. Mahal ko rin ang sarili ko. Hindi pa ako handa na isugal ang buo kong pagbangon kapag hindi pa buo ang dalawa naming paa.
I picked up my key and slipped on a soft cover up, then opened the door to the hallway that smelled like salt and lemon. Time to step out. Time to find air. Time to be the version of Avery who can walk through a resort full of people and keep her heart from sprinting while she decides which truth to carry first.
I left the room once my breathing remembered its rhythm. The hallway smelled like lemon and salt, the same quiet scent I had met when I first stepped out to find air. Loop party ang theme sa pool, so I changed into another bikini that felt like armor and dress code in one.
The top hugged without pinching and the bottoms sat high on my hips, the color a deep cobalt that made my skin look sun warmed. I tied a light sarong at my waist, slipped on hoops, then headed down with my head clear enough to choose my steps.
Pagbaba ko, nakita ko si Yuki sa tabi ni Kiefer, both of them laughing over some inside joke that made their shoulders lean closer.
Lovebirds. Fine. I walked toward their table where a small crowd had gathered. Elliot sat at the far end with a few managers, posture easy, gaze nowhere near me. He did not look up when I arrived.
"You look hot, babe," Kiefer said, quick beso on each cheek like the old chaos we used to share. Out of the corner of my eye I saw Elliot's hand tighten into a slow circle against his glass before he set it down with care. I swatted the back of Kiefer's head with my fingers and dropped into the open seat beside Karl, one of my chief managers.
"Bakit umalis ka kanina. Sayang, may swimming fight kami," Kiefer teased, miming a splash. Sus, e ikaw nagsabing habulin ko 'yung tao.
"Wala na akong gana," I said, reaching for water instead of anything stronger.
"You look super hot, boss," Yen chimed in as she pulled up a chair.
"Drop the formality," I told her with a smile. "Summer break natin. Call me Avery."
"You are so stunning tonight, Avery," Karl added, grin wide, eyes bright.
"Thank you," I said, choosing to hear the compliment and not the implication. Music swelled. People started dancing. Someone passed a plate of sliders and another tray of fruit. I took both and tried to let the party do what parties do.
We drank a little. We sang badly. I spun once with Patty and nearly tripped on my sarong, then laughed until my stomach hurt.
After a while the edges of the world softened and Karl leaned closer than necessary, his shoulder brushing mine whenever he spoke. I kept my smile in place and shifted an inch away.
"Wait," Kiefer announced, standing on the bench like a ringmaster.
"I have a drinking game app. Let us play." Groans and cheers mixed into one sound. Fine. I was not here to sulk.
Kings Cup. The digital wheel spun on his phone and lit up like a cheap arcade. Unang bunot si Kiefer. Two. Choose two people to drink.
"Yuki and Klara," he declared, and the table whooped as the two raised their glasses and knocked them back in perfect sync.
Ako ang sunod. Five. Make a rule.
"Simple lang," I said, smile steady.
"Kapag uminom, mamimili ng gusto nilang halikan." The table roared. Some cheered. Some booed. I felt eyes land on me like warm coins.
I glanced at Elliot. He was watching. He shook his head once, a small warning that said not tonight. I answered with a small, wicked smile that said I reserved my right to choose my fun.
Karl drew next. Six. Thumb master. He planted his thumb on the edge of the table and waited like a cat. The round went on. When his signal finally dropped, everyone scrambled to copy.
Elliot moved a beat late and the table pointed like children who had caught a teacher out of bounds. He tipped his glass and took a measured sip.
"Pick who you'll kiss," Klara sang out, pointing at him with both hands. Silence fell like a dare. Elliot stood without theatrics and crossed the few steps to where I sat. He stopped in front of me and checked my face for permission.
I held his eyes and did not move. He leaned in and pressed his mouth to mine, slow enough to be respectful and long enough to be undeniable. A minute is shorter than the gossip will say and longer than a pulse can ignore.
Patty squealed. Kiefer coughed into his drink. The world resumed. Elliot returned to his seat as if he had only collected a document and not set the table on fire.
Next was Klara. Five again. Make a rule.
"Kapag uminom, magtatanggal ng suot," she announced with a grin that loved trouble. Groans again. Laughter again. I rolled my eyes and tugged my sarong a little tighter just in case.
The wheel kept spinning. People kept losing. Somewhere in the middle I drew a King. Thirteen. I tipped back the mixed cup in the center and tried not to think about how many bottles had contributed to it. Tanghali pa lang pero ang init na sa loob ng balat.
Pagdating sa round na may rule ni Klara, I slipped my necklace off and dropped it into my tote. The next loss landed on me again and there was nothing left to remove except the obvious.
I glanced at Patty and she lifted the edge of a towel like a curtain. I unclasped my bikini top under the cover and held the fabric to my chest, then slipped the towel over my shoulders.
"Do not you dare, Avery," Elliot snapped from across the table, voice low but cutting.
"I am not killing the mood," I said, still calm. "Chill. It is a game."
"Strike three," he answered, two words that flattened conversation like a gust. The table went quiet. Patty slid closer and adjusted the towel. Yuki reached over and tugged Klara back into her seat with a look that said cut it out.
"Is there something going on between you and Elliot," Patty whispered into my ear while pretending to fix my hair.
"No," I said.
We switched to beer pong to break the tension. Teams were easy to draw. Ako, Patty, Karl, and Kiefer. Kabila sina Andrew, Yuki, Ken, at Klara. Cups lined the far edge, a neat triangle shining under the lights.
Music dipped to give way to cheers. First throw, brick. Second, bounce in. The other side answered. The game found its rhythm and the crowd built around our table like a theatre in the round.
Nanalo kami by a single clean arc from Kiefer that dropped into the last cup like it knew my team needed a win. We jumped. We yelled. I lifted my arms and laughed from somewhere honest. Karl wrapped me in a quick hug and planted a harmless kiss on my cheek. It should have been nothing. It was not.
A table near the dance floor flipped with a crack of wood on tile. Everyone jumped. The clatter rolled like thunder. Elliot stood over the mess, eyes on Karl, mouth a flat line. He did not shout. He just moved. One step.
Then another. His fist landed fast and true, a single punch that sent Karl to the floor more from shock than from damage. People scattered. Andrew grabbed Elliot's shoulder. Yuki caught my arm. Kiefer put a palm out to hold back the curious.
"Enough," I said, but the word drowned under the noise. Elliot's chest rose and fell like a man who had been running uphill for months. The lifeguard called security without moving closer. I stepped in front of Karl, hand out, towel still tight around me.
"We're done," I told Elliot, voice steady.
He looked at me, jaw tight, and the anger bled into something else. He reached for my wrist, not rough, not gentle, a decision more than a drag.
"We're talking now," he said through his teeth, and I let him lead because a hallway would be kinder than a crowd.
Hinila niya ako papasok sa nearest corridor that led to our wing. The door to our room opened under his key and closed behind us with a soft thud.
He backed me up against the wall and kissed me like an apology that did not know its words yet.
It was not a shove. It was heat that asked the question my pride kept dodging. His mouth was firm and I answered because I wanted to answer, not because he took the answer.
I pressed my palm to his chest to feel the speed of his heartbeat and the beat told me what his face could not.
He stopped. He rested his forehead against mine.
"I lost it out there," he said, breath still uneven.
"I shouldn't have. I saw him kiss you and my head went back to every day I could not find you. I am not proud of it." He closed his eyes and inhaled slow. "Tell me to stop and I'll stop. Say stay and I will stay right here."
The towel slipped. My hands found his shoulders and held on.
"Stay," I said, clear enough to carry. He cupped my jaw, checked my face for any doubt, then kissed me again with careful intent. The room shrank to breath and warmth.
He helped me fix the towel when it started to slip too far. He asked before fingers found knots. I nodded. The knot gave way and the world softened.
"You do not get to count strikes with me," I whispered, because I needed to say it even now. "You don't get to call obedience."
"Then we make new rules," he answered, quieter, "the kind you agree to." The anger had left his voice. What remained was want and a throb of fear. "No more losing you. No more losing myself either."
He kissed the corner of my mouth, then the line of my jaw, then the hollow at my throat. His hands stayed where I placed them. When I moved them higher, they moved.
When I held them still, they obeyed. The control I kept all day slid into choice here, and choice is the only version of surrender I accept.
"I want this," I said, and the sentence turned the room from a storm shelter into something kinder.
Outside, the party noise resumed, the music rising and falling like a distant tide. Inside, we rewrote the end of the night with consent and heat instead of temper.
Whatever punishment he had thought to name in anger washed away in the clarity of asking and answering. If there was a lesson left, it belonged to both of us.
You don't love a person by counting infractions. You love a person by learning where the fear lives and choosing better doors.
And yes, I liked the way his mouth learned me again. I liked the way his hands waited for my yes even when my body had already said it a hundred times.
I liked the way we moved from collision to rhythm without losing respect.
The rest of the world held its noise at the threshold, and the only thing that crossed into the room was the truth we both kept outrunning.
52Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡFiGJzpKLKt
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