Page 58 of Should Our Stars Collide

He thrashes around on the bed just to mess it up even more, then smiles at the chaos. Ash spent five whole minutes making it before they’d left for the pool, because apparently he’s never heard of room service.

Nope. Just a damn control freak.

“It’s a good habit to have. Sets the theme for the whole day,”Ash tried to convince him.

“Sure. Well, thethemeof my day is ‘I don’t give a fuck’,”Kieran retorted.

The flash of annoyance in Ash’s eyes had been very satisfying. What’s weird is that Kieran had almost hoped for…something. Some kind of reaction. For once, he’d wanted to rattle Ash.Rattle his composure. He has no idea what that would look like, but his stomach had gone all squirmy with anticipation. Just waiting for Ash to act.

Yeah, weird.

A creaking sound from behind the doors, followed by footsteps, has his body stiffening. There’s a knock. Three of them, same as last time. Measured, impeccably timed pauses in-between. Enough to be heard, but not to startle. Perfectly controlled. Of course it is.

“Kieran?”

He doesn’t answer. Just lies there, in the chaos of rumpled sheetsand a bad mood, staring at the opposite wall.

“I won’t bother you, but you should eat something. It’s lunchtime.”

You’re bothering me right now.

His stomach growls in betrayal.

Ash, to his credit, doesn’t try to force his way in.

Three more knocks. Kieran’s name, called out in that soft tone he hates, the one that messes with him the most.

He burrows himself under the covers. If he stays perfectly still, maybe Ash will take the hint and go away. Or—better yet—get annoyed and leave, storm off and disappear into the gold-sanded fantasy Kieran never asked for.

He listens, but hears nothing.

Then footsteps, moving away. Ash passes by the window, probably going for lunch because he’s fed up with Kieran’s sulking.

Kieran stares at the wall. A cold, prickly feeling settles in his chest, like someone cracked open a window in his ribcage and let a freezing Siberian wind in.

This isfine.He’d wanted space, hadn’t he? It’s just that he didn’t expect Ash to give up so soon. He’s always been so pushy, in a sneaky kind of way. Seems as though even a persistent asshole like him has a limit.

So much for all the promises to never leave. But what did Kieran expect? Everyone leaves in the end. Everyone eventually gets fed up with him.

He shifts onto his back. Then to his side. The bed creaks with every movement, the sheets bunching up around him.

Time passes, but it’s hard to say how much. Long enough for his thoughts to spiral, though it never takes particularly long for that to happen.

His throat’s tight now, and he hates it. Hates the way his stomach has hollowed out—not just from hunger, but from something heavier, colder, harder to admit.

He wants to believe Ash left out of frustration. Wants to picturehim getting upset and swearing under his breath. Wants to believe he mattered enough to Ash to piss him off.

He presses the balls of his palms against his eyes when they start to burn.

What the fuck are you on about? This is what you wanted!

For the longest time, his world is filled with the soft hum of the ceiling fan and his own screaming thoughts. Amongst all the noise, the creaking sound of the wooden patio echoes.

He shoots up from under the covers, gaze snapping towards the door. A shadow passes by the window, Ash’s silhouette unmistakable.

Kieran waits for the knock, but it never comes. Instead, there’s a rustling noise, before the patio creaks again, signaling Ash leaving once more.

Kieran deflates. Is this some mind game or what? Something Ash does with his patients?