@nexuseros_: Max was crazy about Uno. The kind of crazy where she’d drop everything just to make her smile, even when Uno treated her like she was nothing. She’d apologize first every single time, even when it wasn’t her fault. “I’m sorry,” Max said again one night, sitting on the edge of Uno’s bed with tears already in her eyes. “I shouldn’t have texted you so much. I just got scared when you didn’t reply for hours.” Uno didn’t even look up from her phone. “You’re always overthinking, Max. I already told you we’re fine like this. Why do you keep pushing for a label? It’s enough that we’re together, okay? Stop making it hard.” Max nodded quickly, voice small. “Okay. You’re right. I’m sorry. Please don’t be mad.” Uno finally glanced at her and gave that tiny soft smile that always messed with Max’s head. “Just stay. That’s all I need from you.” And Max stayed. She always did. Her friends had tried more than once. “Girl, she’s a huge red flag,” one of them said over drinks, looking worried. “She leaves you crying, yells at you in front of people, and still expects you to buy her everything. Why are you still with her?” Max just shook her head, eyes glassy. “You don’t get it. She’s been through a lot. She just needs time. I love her too much.” She really did. Enough to spend her whole bonus twice on things Uno casually mentioned wanting. A designer bag. A new phone. Uno would take them with a quick “Thanks,” then toss the bag in a corner or sell the phone later because she “didn’t like the color anymore.” When Max found the empty box, her chest tightened. “I should’ve asked what you really wanted. I’ll get you something better next time.” Uno just shrugged. “Yeah. Next time, check first.” The worst nights left deeper cuts. One evening they had a stupid misunderstanding—Max had liked an old photo of them online, and Uno lost it, saying it looked desperate. Right there at a crowded bus stop, Uno raised her voice so everyone could hear. “You’re embarrassing me in public. Just go home already. I can’t deal with this clingy shit.” Max’s hands were shaking as she reached for her. “Please don’t leave me here. I’m sorry. I’ll delete it right now. Please, Uno, just stay with me. Don’t do this.” People stared. Some looked away in pity. Uno didn’t care. She turned and walked off without looking back. Max sat on that cold bench crying so hard her whole body hurt, face buried in her hands while strangers passed by. She still showed up the next day with coffee and soft words, eyes swollen. Uno let her in like nothing had happened. When Uno finally ended it, the words came out almost casual, but they cut deeper than anything before. “I met someone else,” she said, standing by the door with a half-packed bag. “It’s different with her. You and me… we were never really official anyway. You always knew that.” Max’s eyes filled up instantly. Her voice cracked. “Please don’t. I’ll change. I’ll stop asking for more. Just don’t leave me. I can’t… I can’t do this without you. Please, Uno.” She was already on her knees, crying hard, begging the way she always did when Uno threatened to walk away. Uno watched her for a long moment—calm, almost bored—then stepped closer and kissed her forehead one last time. “You’ll be fine.” She left. Months later, Max still kept every picture. All of them. Saved in a private folder on her phone. Late at night she’d open them, staring at Uno laughing, Uno sleeping, Uno looking at her like she mattered. The ache would hit so hard she’d curl up and cry again. She kept telling herself it wasn’t her fault for falling so hard. But deep down she still blamed herself for not seeing the red sooner. For believing every small sweet thing Uno did was real love. For giving her money, her pride, her tears, everything—only to be left behind like she never meant anything. Love didn’t just break her. It left a mark that never faded—bright, permanent, and the exact color of everything she had poured into someone who never really loved her back. #au #🌈 #gl #wlw #englot

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Wednesday 19 August 2026 16:25:35 GMT