Chapter 7- The Crack In The Ice
1659 Words
Ethan POV
Something was off.
Ethan felt it before he even saw her.
The school buzzed like always—laughter spilling too loudly into the halls, lockers slamming, voices overlapping in meaningless noise. It was the kind of chaos he usually ignored without effort. None of it ever held his attention long enough to matter.
But today…
His focus was already somewhere else.
Unconsciously, his eyes drifted toward the entrance.
Scanning.
Waiting—though he wouldn’t admit it.
Then—
There.
Belle.
She stepped through the gates like she always did. Quiet. Controlled. Almost invisible if you weren’t looking for her.
But he was.
And instantly—he knew.
Something had changed.
Ethan’s eyes narrowed slightly, his body going still in a way that was almost predatory.
Her steps were the same.
Her posture… the same.
But her face—
It was colder.
Not the usual indifference that irritated him. Not the distant calm that made her unreadable.
This was different.
This was… empty.
Like someone had taken everything inside her and scraped it clean overnight, leaving behind nothing but a shell that knew how to move, how to breathe, how to exist—
But not how to feel.
For a brief second—
Something flickered across Ethan’s expression.
Concern.
It was faint. Quick. Almost invisible.
Gone as fast as it appeared.
But it had been there.
“…what happened to you?” he muttered under his breath.
And before he could stop himself—
He moved.
—
Belle didn’t look at anyone.
Not at the girls whispering behind their hands.
Not at the guys who usually tried to get her attention.
Not at the stares that followed her like shadows.
She walked straight ahead like none of it existed.
Like they didn’t exist.
Even when she felt him approaching.
Even when his presence became impossible to ignore.
Even when he stepped directly into her path.
She didn’t stop.
Didn’t hesitate.
Didn’t react.
She simply walked past him.
Like he wasn’t there.
Like he had never been there.
Ethan’s jaw tightened.
That again.
That same thing that always got under his skin.
Only this time—
It didn’t feel the same.
Before, it had been defiance.
Now?
It was absence.
“Belle.”
Nothing.
Not even a flicker.
She kept walking.
And something in him snapped—not loudly, not violently—but sharp and controlled.
His hand shot out before he could think.
Grabbing her wrist.
“Hey.”
And then—
It happened.
A sharp sound cut through the hallway.
Slap.
Everything stopped.
Conversations died mid-sentence.
Footsteps froze.
The air itself seemed to pause, suspended in disbelief.
Every eye turned.
Ethan’s head had barely moved from the impact.
But the sting?
It spread slowly across his cheek, burning in a way that felt unfamiliar.
Unacceptable.
The mark was there.
Faint.
But real.
No one—
No one had ever done that.
Not to him.
Not to Ethan.
The hallway held its breath.
Waiting.
Watching.
Expecting the explosion.
The retaliation.
The chaos.
Because that’s what he did.
That’s what he was known for.
But Ethan didn’t move.
Didn’t lash out.
Didn’t even blink the way they expected him to.
Instead—
He looked at her.
Really looked.
And what he saw—
It wasn’t defiance.
It wasn’t anger.
It wasn’t even fear.
It was nothing.
Belle stood there, her hand slowly lowering back to her side. Her expression didn’t change. Not even slightly.
Her eyes were empty.
Not cold.
Not distant.
Empty.
Like what she’d just done meant nothing.
Like he meant nothing.
And somehow—
That hit harder than the slap.
A slow, unfamiliar tension coiled in his chest.
Not rage.
Something else.
Something he didn’t have a name for.
Before anyone could process what had just happened—
Ethan grabbed her again.
Firm.
Unyielding.
And started walking.
Dragging her with him.
Down the hallway.
Past the frozen crowd.
Past the whispers that were already beginning to rise.
Into the nearest empty classroom.
The door slammed shut behind them.
—
Silence.
Heavy.
Thick.
The kind that pressed against your ears.
Ethan turned to face her, his chest rising slightly—not from anger, but from something tightly restrained.
Something far more dangerous.
“Do you have a death wish?” he asked quietly.
His voice wasn’t loud.
But it carried weight.
Still—
No response.
Belle stood there, her wrist still in his grip.
But she didn’t struggle.
Didn’t pull away.
Didn’t react.
She wasn’t even looking at him properly.
Her gaze drifted somewhere past his shoulder.
Distant.
Disconnected.
Like she wasn’t even in the room.
Ethan’s grip loosened slightly.
Not out of kindness.
Out of confusion.
“…you hit me,” he said again, slower this time.
Like maybe she hadn’t heard him.
Like maybe repeating it would make it real.
Still—
Nothing.
No apology.
No explanation.
No reaction.
It was like talking to air.
No—
Worse.
Because air moved.
She didn’t.
His eyes darkened, searching her face again, sharper now, more intense.
“What’s wrong with you?” he demanded, his voice lowering.
That got something.
Not much.
But something.
Her eyes shifted.
Slowly.
Finally meeting his.
And for the first time since he walked in—
Ethan felt it.
Not emotion.
Not exactly.
But something broken beneath the surface.
Something barely held together.
Her lips parted slightly.
But no words came out.
Just a faint breath.
Like even speaking was too much effort.
Ethan frowned.
That wasn’t right.
Nothing about this was right.
“You don’t just go around slapping people and act like nothing happened,” he continued, his tone sharper now, pushing.
Still trying to get something out of her.
“Say something.”
Silence.
Then—
“…why?”
The word was so soft, he almost didn’t hear it.
Ethan stilled.
“…what?”
Belle blinked slowly, like she was trying to focus on him.
Like she was pulling herself back from somewhere far away.
“Why… did you stop me?”
Her voice was quiet.
Flat.
But there was something underneath it.
Something fragile.
Ethan frowned deeper.
“Because you were ignoring me.”
That should’ve been obvious.
But she just stared at him.
Like that answer didn’t make sense.
Like it didn’t matter.
Her gaze dropped slightly, her expression not changing.
“I didn’t see you.”
The words landed heavier than they should have.
Ethan scoffed lightly, but it lacked its usual edge.
“Yeah, I noticed.”
But Belle shook her head.
Small.
Almost unnoticeable.
“That’s not what I mean.”
That made him pause.
There was a shift.
Subtle.
But there.
Ethan’s eyes narrowed again, studying her more carefully now.
“What do you mean?”
For a moment, she didn’t answer.
Her fingers twitched slightly at her side.
Her breathing uneven in a way that didn’t match her calm exterior.
Then—
“I didn’t see anything.”
Silence fell again.
But this time, it wasn’t empty.
It was heavy with something unspoken.
Ethan didn’t interrupt.
Didn’t push.
For once—
He waited.
Belle’s gaze drifted to the floor.
Her voice, when it came again, was quieter.
“…it’s easier that way.”
Ethan felt something tighten in his chest.
Uncomfortable.
Unfamiliar.
“What is?”
She didn’t look up.
“Not feeling anything.”
The words were simple.
But they carried weight.
Too much weight.
Ethan exhaled slowly, running a hand through his hair, frustration flickering across his face.
“That’s not how it works.”
“It is,” she said immediately.
Not louder.
But firmer.
Like that was the only thing she was sure about.
Ethan stepped closer.
Not aggressively this time.
Just enough to close the space between them.
“That’s not normal, Belle.”
Her lips curved slightly.
Not into a smile.
Something emptier.
“I didn’t say it was.”
That—
That threw him off.
Ethan studied her again, longer this time.
And suddenly, the slap didn’t matter anymore.
The silence didn’t matter.
None of it did.
Because whatever was happening here—
It was bigger than that.
“…what happened?” he asked again.
But this time—
His voice was different.
Softer.
Quieter.
Real.
Belle’s eyes flickered.
Just for a second.
Like something inside her reacted to that tone.
But just as quickly—
It disappeared.
She stepped back.
Out of his reach.
Out of whatever space he had unknowingly created.
“You wouldn’t understand.”
Ethan’s jaw tightened.
“Try me.”
But she shook her head.
Already retreating.
Already shutting down again.
“No.”
And just like that—
The wall was back.
Higher than before.
Stronger.
Colder.
Ethan watched her carefully.
Not moving.
Not stopping her this time.
Belle turned toward the door.
Her hand resting on the handle for a brief moment.
Then—
She paused.
Just for a second.
“…don’t grab me again.”
Her voice wasn’t angry.
Wasn’t threatening.
Just… distant.
Then she opened the door and walked out.
Leaving him standing there.
Alone.
—
The classroom felt different after she left.
Quieter.
But not peaceful.
Ethan exhaled slowly, his gaze dropping to the floor before lifting again toward the door.
His cheek still burned faintly.
But he barely noticed it now.
Because for the first time—
He wasn’t thinking about the slap.
He was thinking about her.
About the emptiness in her eyes.
About the way she said it’s easier that way.
About the way she looked like she was disappearing right in front of him.
Ethan clicked his tongue softly, shaking his head like he was trying to shake off the feeling.
But it didn’t go away.
If anything—
It settled deeper.
“…what the hell is going on with you, Belle…” he muttered quietly.
And for once—
He didn’t have an answer.
Only a growing sense that whatever it was—
It wasn’t something he could ignore anymore.
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