"How do you kill someone?"

"Kiss them once and never again."

"You don't get to decide whether that someone would stay or leave you. It's their choice. Trusting someone is your decision, but proving you wrong is their choice," Jasmine read, the few lines off her favourite novel. She picked up her book mark.

She picked herself up from her bed, as she somehow dragged herself to Dele's room, with a knock on his door.

"You up?" she whispered, then looking at the clock on the wall.

Oh crap, it's 2.30am.

She waited for a few minutes, and still no response.

"Okay," she says, before turning around but then stopped by the sound of unlocked doors.

"What's up?" Dele asks, with a rather deep, grainy voice. His eyes were half closed and he didn't have anything on, except for a pair of Star Wars boxers.

"I was just wondering if you're still awake," Jasmine says.

"Oh, well. I am now," he says, resting his back on the door, creating a playful smile.

I giggled, as I walked towards his bed.

"Sorry to ruin your beauty sleep, your highness," I jokingly said, before sitting beside him.

"Wasn't beautiful with you," he replied.

My eyes widened, as I noticed his cheek-ish smile.

"Nonsense," I rolled my eyes.

"So, what's up?" he asks, resting his back on the wall.

"Nothing. Just felt like coming over," I responded.

He took out his handphone from his bright, blue bag.

"I'm waiting for Harry to text me," he says, as he slowly rested his back on the bed.

"What for?" I asked.

"Our team is chosen to model for Puma and if I'm lucky enough, I'd be in the pages of the new magazine," he says.

"Which means that I'll be going to Paris for the shoot," he added.

My heartbeat paused for a while, before I realised that my smile was turning into a frown.

"Paris?" I asked.

He nodded and realised the slight sorrow in my eye.

"Are you okay?" he asks.

"Yeah, I'm really happy for you," I smiled, brushing off the fact that he was a busy man after all.

How could I ever forgot?

He's a soccer player and he would need to go back onto the field in a few more weeks. There wasn't a chance that he'd stay with me for long.

"Well, you know..." he stopped immediately at the 'buzz' on his phone.

"Yes!" He cheered, before I hushed him down.

"My mum will kill me if she finds out that we're still awake," I said.

"I'm in," he whispered.

"Well, good. I'm really happy for you," I smiled.

"That means that I'll be leaving for Paris this weekend," he smiled.

Believe me, seeing him smile is the best thing ever, but, I shouldn't even be upset that he's leaving, right?

I mean, why should I?

***

I woke up the next day, a little too upset over yesterday's news. Still.

I packed my bag, ready to leave the house before my computer started buzzing up. Fantastic. Dele must've forgotten to log out of his e-mail, again. I reached out to the 'logout' button before an e-mail caught my eye.

Rebecca? Of course I knew who that is. Rebecca Jarrel, famous model in the modelling industry. And I've totally heard news about her past relationship with Dele.

Reading the e-mail shattered me. Eventhough I knew I didn't have the rights to read it, I would find out about it one way or another.

As days passed and as Dele talked about how excited he was for the photoshoot in Paris, all I could think of was him and Rebecca. They sure had had some chemistry between them in the past but that wouldn't stop Rebecca from trying to get him back. Especially by how she has been sending the e-mail, I was sure that she had a motive for it.

I remained silent all the way in the car ride back home, from lunch with Dele. I thought the day was going well, before Dele suddenly brought up the topic of his flight to Paris in two more days.

"I don't get it. Why are you super pissed everytime I talk about the photoshoot in Paris. Are you not happy for me?" He asks.

I remained silent for a few seconds.

"I'm happy for you," I said.

"Then?"

"But I'm sure as hell that Rebecca is even more happier," I said, before pulling over the car to the side. He kept quiet, as I carried my bag, trying to leave the car.

"Please, let me..." I pulled my hand away from the grip he had, around my wrist.