"I Hate That I Miss You"

“I hate your comments. But I'd hate it more if you stopped making them.”

Shaddayy blocked Leonardo the next day.

Without hesitation.

One quick tap. Teeth clenched.

—Enough — she said out loud, as if the walls could hear her.

She needed silence.

Space.

To forget the sting of his words.

To stop checking his profile every night.

But that afternoon…

She uploaded a new photo.

Herself by the river.

Wearing a red scarf.

Wind tangling her hair like a storm.

Eyes fixed on the horizon, as if searching for something — or someone.

Caption:

Today, the world doesn’t understand me. But I keep going.

She posted it.

Waited.

When she checked the comments…

He wasn’t there.

No message.

No sarcasm.

No cold remark.

Nothing.

For just a second…

Her chest ached.

She missed it.

Missed him.

Missed the way he always showed up right when she showed herself.

—What’s wrong with me? —she whispered, shaking her head.

⏳ Three days later

Shaddayy posted a short video.

Her hands painting.

Fingers smeared with colour.

A swirl of blues, deep reds, and gold — chaos turning into something beautiful.

In the background: a sad Spanish song.

On her grandmother used to play.

About love lost, and love waiting.

No caption.

No explanation.

Just art.

Raw.

Real.

Two hours passed.

Then…

A notification.

Not a comment.

A mention.

💬 @maria_art_lover:

—Shayy, beautiful! Where do you get all this inspiration?

💬 @lucia_en_paris:

—This blue is hypnotic.

💬 @leonardo_madrid:

—If it weren’t for the unnecessary drama in your captions, I might actually say you have talent.

Shaddayy froze.

Again?

But… she’d blocked him.

She opened his profile fast.

Scrolled.

No.

He wasn’t blocked.

She’d only silenced notifications.

A fake block.

A lie she told herself.

He’d never stopped watching her.

And she…

Had never stopped hoping he would.

Furious — or maybe just scared — she replied:

💬 Shaddayy:

—Don’t talk to me again. Don’t you understand what “blocking” means?

💬 Leonardo:

—Technically, you didn’t block me. You just pretended to. Interesting.

She threw her phone onto the bed.

—He’s unbearable!

🍽️ That night – Dinner table

“So… what about that guy who always comments on your photos?” Camila, her sister, asked, cutting her meat.

"What guy?” Shaddayy replied, not looking up.

“The one from Spain. Leonardo. Don’t you realize he only talks to you ? No one else replies to him.”

“He’s an idiot,” Shaddayy said. “He only shows up to ruin everything.”

Lucas, her older brother, leaned forward.

“If he were a stalker, you'd have reported him by now. But you haven't.”

“Because he's not a stalker!”

"Then why does he bother you so much?” Camila asked. “Or… do you like him?"

"Of course not!" Shaddayy snapped — too fast.

Too loud.

She stood up.

Left the room.

🌙 Later, in her room

She opened Instagram.

Went straight to Leonardo’s profile.

He was online.

Right now.

And he’d just posted his first public photo.

A bridge in Madrid.

Rain falling in silver threads.

Lights blurred by the wet glass.

Location:

Puente de los Suspiros — Bridge of Sighs.

No caption.

Just silence.

Shaddayy searched the name.

"They say if you cross this bridge thinking of someone… that person will appear in your life."

Her heart beat faster.

Before she could stop herself, she commented:

💬 Shaddayy:

—What if you thought of someone… and they never appear?

She didn’t expect a reply.

Five minutes later, it came:

💬 Leonardo:

—Then maybe they're already here.

You just don't know it yet.

✨ Final Note:

I never knew who he was thinking of that night.

But ever since, every time I cross a bridge,

I wait for him to appear…

Even if it’s just to annoy me again.

***Download NovelToon to enjoy a better reading experience!***