I truly loved your newest post,please keep writing! It was genuinely the best thing Ive read in a long time it’s my favorite!!
You guys are so sweet 😭😭 Thank you!! Honestly, I was thinking about quitting writing after receiving some criticism from a friend about my writing, but seeing comments like this really warms my heart!! I hope you'll keep reading <3
Unemployed and with nowhere to go, you end up finding a mysterious casino that seems to be your only way out. Even though you hate the environment and everything it represents, you desperately need money to support your child.
Between the unexpected help of his teacher, Mrs. Black, and the provocations of an enigmatic gambler named Jack, you find yourself trapped in a game much bigger than simple bets. How far will you go to survive… and what will you be willing to lose along the way?
Tw/Tags. Gambling, manipulation, non-consensual physical contact, psychological abuse, yandere, alcohol consumption, self-harm ideation, gambling addiction, emotional distress, obsession, angst, drugs, smut(?), bondage, blood. I did my best to keep it gender-neutral, but let me know if I missed anything I needed to change or if I forgot any tags.
Word Count: 17k
Art credits: @srro_yo & @kuroe16370547 on Twitter
"Look, sir..." you begin, straining to keep your voice steady and your irritation under wraps. "What matters to me is that you are alright. I don't need any reward." Your gaze slips to the unconscious man between you, slumped on the soaked ground, his body motionless under the dim street light. "And shouldn't we get out of here before he wakes up? He doesn't exactly look... harmless to me."
“My friends will take care of that,” the stranger replies too quickly, as if eager to shut down the topic right there. His eyes gleam under the faint glow of the lamppost. "I'm telling you, you cannot waste this opportunity!" Before you can step back, he grabs your hand and presses a card against your palm. "I am immensely grateful for your help. Please, do attend."
And then he leaves without another word, his footsteps echoing down the dark road until they vanish along with his silhouette, swallowed by the rain and the night fog.
A weary sigh escapes your lips. Water streams down your face and your clothes are completely drenched, heavy against your body. The spot where you took the punch pulses with increasing intensity, the pain throbbing as a constant reminder of what just happened. As you walk, you examine the card.
The material is durable, the design impossible to ignore. Every detail seems crafted to entice, every promise vague yet persuasive, as if anticipating your doubts before they even arise. There is no denying it, the marketing is made to grab attention, but even so, you do not change your mind.
No matter how tempting it might be, you will not stoop to gambling.
Even with reason still screaming in your mind, another part of you cannot stop thinking about the card you received a few days ago. You had discarded it, thinking it would help you forget, but the thought remains, guiding your fingers to look up more about the place. The reviews are excellent, everything seems legitimate, and…
The thought breaks when you feel a slight nudge from behind. Looking down, you see children running around excitedly in small groups, each rushing into the arms of their relatives. You scan the crowd for your son, but your hopes sink when you hear a familiar voice behind you.
“You came, you came!!!” The vibrant voice echoes, and before you can turn around completely, you feel small arms wrap around your legs. “Why don't you always come pick me up? It’s so boring going home alone...”
Your body relaxes automatically. Crouching down to meet his eye level, you hug him tightly. “Of course I came, my sweetheart. When have I ever lied to you?” Your smile widens even more as he nuzzles his head against your shoulder before pulling back a little.
"Remember Mrs. Black?" he interrupts, his excitement overflowing. "Look!" He holds up something in each hand—a drawing in one and candies in the other. "I made a drawing today, and she gave me more candies than usual!!"
“Really?” you ask, taking the drawing. Three figures are depicted: you, your son in the center, and on the other side, the silhouette of a woman you don't know… at least not yet. Before you can examine it further, a new voice enters the scene.
“I thought I told you not to talk about that, Theo. The other kids will get upset if they find out.”
A woman approaches, her uniform giving away that she is a teacher. She gently ruffles your son’s hair, making him laugh gleefully, before straightening her posture and smiling politely at you. “You are his guardian, am I correct? Pleasure to finally meet you, your son talks about you quite a lot.”
Without a doubt, it is the same woman from the drawing. You shake her hand, returning the smile. "I hope Theo isn't causing you too much trouble."
She shakes her head. "Of course not, he is very polite and kind." Then, she turns back to your son, softening her tone. "How about you try sharing your sweets with your friends? We need to have a grown-up talk."
The bright excitement on the boy’s face fades gradually, but he still nods obediently before walking away, dragging his small frame toward a group of chatting students.
"Did something happen to him?"
"Not exactly." The teacher adjusts her glasses with an automatic gesture, as if organizing her own thoughts. "Can we talk in my office?"
"No, I don't like leaving my son out of my sight." Your voice is firm, trying to make it clear that your decision will not waive. To your surprise, she simply nods.
Your gaze follows your son's, drifting to where he is. He tries to interact with other children while offering a piece of candy. The other kids grab the sweet before walking away, but he tries to keep up with them. Even without being able to hear what they are saying, the scene brings a pang of heartache to your chest.
"I understand that your situation isn't the best, but you should think more about your son. Even with me trying to help, I can't work miracles." Her words are harsh, yet her voice remains soft. "Don't you think he is going through too much because of you? Why did you even adopt him if you don't have the means to raise him?"
You don't reply, but it is clear you heard every word. The difference between your son and the other children is impossible to ignore. His bag remains the same one from four years ago, patched up so many times that the original color seems entirely lost. His uniform, even after all your efforts to clean it, still carries ink stains that won't come out. Your fists clench, and the heavy weight of familiar guilt builds in your chest once more.
She seems to wait for an answer, pressing you to say something. "I really appreciate everything you have done for my son." The words come out shakier than expected, and you clear your throat. "Looking for a job hasn't been easy, I've tried everything..."
"I doubt that," she retorts, turning to face you directly. "I care deeply about all my students. If I see that he is truly not in good conditions, I will have to call Child Protective Services."
Your eyes snap up to her immediately, but there was no trace of jest in her expression. "This would be for your own good too, believe me." She organizes her things in her bag, as if already preparing to leave.
"A true parent does whatever it takes for their child."
Her tone was so cold it barely felt like it came from a real person. Even whispered, the words echoed loudly in your mind, and you could swear you noticed a slight smirk before she walked away. Your body wanted to defend itself, but your conscience knew she was right. Perhaps due to the severity of her words, you couldn't put them aside as you walked home, Theo walking by your side.
Her words had never hit you this hard when you read them in the notes Theo handed over. At first, her appearance conveyed softness—a gentle face that did not match the rigidity of her messages. But now, meeting her face-to-face, it became clear she was just as rigid and harsh as what she wrote.
"[Name], what did you think of her?" Theo asked, lightly squeezing your hand to get your attention. "She wasn't complaining about me, was she? You two are always exchanging notes..."
You caress his hand, trying to convey calmness. “No, sweetie. We were just chatting, that's all. After all, if she is your friend, she is my friend too.”
He hums contentedly and falls silent again, which is rare. Though your mind is elsewhere, you force yourself to pay attention to your son. "You are so quiet today… did something happen at school?"
"No, nothing happened…" he says, adjusting the bag on his back. "I was just thinking about the field trip… my classmates won't stop talking about it."
Ah, of course… the field trip. Theo had mentioned it months ago, and you had been saving up little by little so he could go. Until all that money ended up being used to keep you from being evicted.
Your pause in replying seems to say it all, as if he could read your mind.
"...You couldn't get the money?"
The words pierce your heart. The disappointment he tries to hide is easily read on his face.
"No… it's not that, sweetie. I just…" Your voice falters, and you fall silent, not knowing how to explain. Theo was so excited… you tried so hard to scrape together every penny, but…
"S-Sorry, [Name]!!" He suddenly lets go of your hand and throws himself into a tight hug, his muffled crying blending into the fabric of your clothes. "It's okay… it's okay!!"
You stand frozen for a moment, confused, not immediately grasping the intensity of your son's reaction. Then, you notice a single tear sliding down your own face, dropping softly onto his hair.
What kind of guardian are you, allowing your own child to worry like this?
With a tight chest, you raise your hand to wipe your face and pull back just enough to look at him, without breaking contact. "I got it… of course I got it." Your voice comes out rushed, nearly tripped up by your thoughts, as you gently run your fingers across his cheeks. “It’s next week, right? Tomorrow I promise I’ll pay for it.”
The crying stops instantly. He stares at you with wide eyes, as if he can't believe it. A massive smile breaks across his face, and you feel every bit of his joy pulsing against you.
"Is it true?! You're not lying?!" His fingers grip yours, pulling tightly as he tries to start running. "Let's go! We have to pack my bag! Get everything ready!"
Theo continues celebrating all the way home, and you let yourself be carried away, unable to extinguish that spark of hope on his face.
The feeling of guilt tightens even more in your chest. You shouldn't have said that.
The night is peaceful tonight.
The wind rustles through the leaves of the tree above you, making your hair move slightly. There is no other sound besides that. The street is empty, completely deserted, and you can't tell how long you've been standing there, but it must be late by now.
You have been staring at the sky for a while, as if waiting for some answer. But nothing happens. The stars remain exactly where they were, giving no sign whatsoever.
What should you do now?
You close your eyes, forcing your mind to conjure up a solution—any solution.
"[Name]?"
Theo’s voice cuts through your thoughts. When you turn around, he is standing by the doorway, his hair messy and his expression torn between confusion and sleepiness.
“Aren't we going to sleep together tonight?” he asks, his voice heavy with sleep as he approaches. “So I wouldn't get in your way, I packed my bag all by myself.” With visible effort, he lifts the bag, wanting to prove he managed without help.
“It’s past your bedtime, you’ll wake up tired tomorrow,” you chide him, even knowing your authority was never quite enough to completely hold him back. “Don't worry, sweetie. I'll join you in a little bit, okay?” Your voice comes out as barely a whisper, trying not to wake him fully as you turn your body around.
Theo just murmurs an almost inaudible “okay” and shuffles back inside, his slow footsteps echoing down the hallway.
You close the door and lean against it, feeling the cold wood press into your back. Your thoughts begin to race again. There is absolutely no way to get fast cash.
…
Your gaze locks onto the pile of trash on the sidewalk. Something glints under the moonlight. Without a doubt, it is the same card from before.
…
Just once wouldn't hurt, right?
You walk over and pick up the card. Despite being in the trash, it is immaculate—clean and without a single tear. Even when you squeeze it between your fingers, it seems to resist any bending.
Your eyes flit between the card and the front door.
It doesn't hurt to try, you'll just go see how it works and see if it's as good as they promise.
You pull your key from your pocket and lock the door. No need to disturb Theo, it will be a quick visit.
With the card between your fingers, you take the first step. And in the blink of an eye, you find yourself standing before the establishment. The ache in your legs betrays the long journey, yet curiously it only manifests now, as if your body had been in a trance until this moment.
Black Roses…
If the facade already exudes sophistication, the interior promises even more. It is a casino, after all; luxury is the bare minimum to expect. You barely approach the entrance when two guards move simultaneously to block your path. The first crosses his arms, his jaw rigid. The second steps half a pace forward, taking the lead.
“Entrance is forbidden to non-invited guests.”
Before you can answer, a firm hand touches your shoulder and pushes you lightly back. It isn't violent, but it is enough to make it clear that you don't belong there. You pull out the card you had received and hold it out before them. "I-I received this… would this be the invitation?" Your voice wavers more than you would like.
The effect is immediate. Both of their eyes widen in perfect synchronization. The one who had spoken steps back, alternating his gaze between the card and you as if standing before something impossible.
“Our sincerest apologies.” The authority evaporates from his tone as he bows his head in respect.
The other hastily uncrosses his arms and steps aside, clearing the way. “Please, step inside. It was a grave mistake on our part.”
What kind of reaction is this? Their demeanor completely flipped…
A sense of pride swells within you, even without fully understanding the reason behind that sudden shift.
You step through the casino doors and feel the cool air mixed with a faint, sweet fragrance; the interior is even more astonishing. Colorful lights flash over every machine, casting bright reflections across the polished floor. The sounds of clinking chips and lively laughter fill the air, and there is a subtle scent of liquor and luxury. Gaming tables stretch out ahead, each filled with focused players and dealers moving cards and chips. You find yourself looking around at everything with wide eyes.
The chilly wind blows against you, reminding you that you are still standing at the entrance, with the guards discreetly watching your every move. This prompts you to step forward.
The world of the wealthy seems like another universe... You feel out of place.
In the lounge, only one table is vacant—the center one. Ironically, it is also the most elegant. Having no other choice, you approach and sit down, your eyes scanning every corner around you. Some tables were plunged into absolute silence, focused on their own games; others laughed and chatted, moving chips around in an apparently random manner without any strategy.
Before you could analyze further, a loud slam on the wood of the table made you jolt. Looking up, you find a waiter glaring at you with pure fury.
"What do you think you're doing here?!" he exclaims, his voice cutting across the lounge and drawing curious glances. "This table is reserved for Mr. Jack! Don't you see? Only high rollers can sit here! Don't you think—"
He continues, and you find yourself paralyzed. Why are you being so quiet?! You can't let him intimidate you!
Gathering all the strength you have, you stand up, but the words stubbornly remain trapped in your throat. There is no time to worry about that as someone else steps in and intervenes.
"Hey, hey," a smooth voice says, approaching from behind the waiter. "Let's not scare a new guest, especially one so beautiful." The man places a hand on the employee's shoulder, who flinches under the touch. "Didn't Ace already talk to you about your behavior?"
The waiter opens his mouth, perhaps to justify himself, but closes it the very next second. The man’s smile widens, satisfied.
“How about bringing us a drink?” He tilts his head slightly. “One of the most expensive. Consider it a way to redeem yourself.”
The young man nods too quickly and practically rushes out of there, vanishing among the tables. The man's gaze follows him until he disappears from sight. "I apologize for his behavior. I'll make sure he doesn't speak to you like that again." Only then does he return his attention to you, his features softening into a more cordial expression. "You can call me Jack, it is a great pleasure to meet you..." He extends his hand to you.
There is a short pause. From his tone, he clearly expects you to state your name. Your hand reaches out to his, but freezes halfway. You only came to see how this place works; it isn't good to get involved with this type of person.
“Fortune,” the name slips out before you can think better of it. “That is my name.” You shake his hand, but when you try to pull it back, you realize his fingers remain wrapped around yours.
“Fortune, is it?” He lifts your hand and presses a light kiss to the back of it. “A beautiful name for someone beautiful.”
You look away, not knowing how to react, and in doing so, you notice that every eye in the room is fixed on the two of you. It is impossible to tell if he noticed your discomfort or simply chose to ignore it. Either way, he finally releases your hand and steps back.
“I’ve never seen your face around here.” He walks around the table and heads to the only empty chair, right in front of you. You hadn't even realized that other people had joined your table. “What are you looking for?”
The question is strange, but not unexpected.
“I just got curious about how this place works, so I came to check it out.” You keep your chin up, despite the uncomfortable feeling of being surrounded by strangers. “I didn't mean to intrude on your table, I apologize.”
Jack waves his hand dismissively, brushing off any formality before settling comfortably into his chair. “Relax, I’m sure my previous companion wouldn't have had the chance to come here anyway.” A waiter appears by his side and offers a drink, which he accepts with a satisfied nod. “I’m honored to be your first opponent then.”
Your heart races. You're going to play already?!
The shift in your expression amuses him, drawing a low chuckle. “That is what we are all here for, isn't it?” He brings the glass to his lips and takes a long sip. “Don't worry, I don't want to scare you off right on the first game.” From within the table, almost like a magic trick, he pulls out two dice and places them between you. “Let's make some simple bets, what do you think?”
The waiter extends the other drink to you, and you accept it. The aroma hits your nose before the liquid even touches your lips—it is too sweet, almost sickening. Yeah, you are definitely not taking a single sip. “I didn't know we would start playing right away,” you confess, swirling the liquid slowly and watching the reflection of the lights on the amber surface. “I didn't bring anything.”
And even if you had brought something, you wouldn't bet it in a place you barely know.
“No problem, here.” He pushes a 100-dollar bill to your side of the table. “You can keep this one, and I'll keep this one, that way we are at the same value.” He holds up another identical bill, pinched between his fingers. “Shall we bet?”
You run your thumb over the bill, feeling the texture of the paper and tilting it against the light to check every detail. Yes, it is real.
If you can walk out of here with this money, you won't have lost anything and will only come out ahead!
“I appreciate the kindness.” You force a casual tone, trying to hide the excitement pulsing in your chest. “You make it impossible to refuse. What game do you suggest?”
He clears his throat, gathering the dice into the palm of his hand. The clattering sound of the pieces echoes between you. “Do you know heads or tails? It's something along those lines.” The dice dance between his fingers, displayed like a simple trick. “They are two six-sided dice. Each face has a different color, in addition to the number. You can bet on the color that lands, on the sum of the numbers… or even whether the result will be even or odd.”
Jack falls silent, and you understand he is waiting for your choice.
You swallow hard, feeling the weight of the decision. “I think… maybe I'd prefer…” The sentence dies before it leaves your lips, while your gaze locks onto the dice.
Wait…
“Hey, can I see the dice first?”
The request causes the room to fall silent. Jack raises an eyebrow, and his smile opens up a bit more. “Sure.” He tosses the dice in your direction; they slide across the table and stop right in front of you.
You pick them up, bringing them close to your eyes. The difference is clear; it isn't just a matter of taste. The odds change depending on your choice.
If you bet on the color, the probability of both dice landing on the same color is minimal. Jack didn't specify if matching just one side was enough, but the lack of details must be intentional—he wants you to believe it is a simple choice. You won't fall into that trap.
On the sum of the numbers, the odds drop even lower and vary according to the chosen total. The more choices, the lower the probability of winning. The safest option is to risk it on even or odd, with exactly a 50% chance of getting it right. Regardless of what is decided, you and Jack will face the same odds.
You don't know if the dice are standard or loaded; it's better to simplify the game for both and not take risks.
Raising your eyes, you meet Jack's challenging smirk. Did he really think a seemingly harmless choice could fool you?
“I'll prefer to bet on whether the number will be even or odd.”
“As you wish.” He nods, and two compartments open with a click under the table, one to his right and one to your left. “I imagine you don't want the game to end too quickly, so let's use these chips to define the amount we want to wager.”
Makes sense. Without them, you both would have to bet the full amount all at once.
You run your fingers through the inside of the compartment and pick up two chips. Their weight surprises you—they aren't plastic as you imagined, but feel molded from solid ore. The lower-value ones have an aged bronze hue, while the higher ones gleam in silver under the table light.
“Let's begin,” Jack says as he organizes his own chips, lining them up in front of him. “What would be the amount of your bet?”
Your gaze falls on a bronze chip. It is best to start with a low amount.
Your fingers press the piece against the table; the symbol 5 gleams under the golden light. “Five dollars.”
Your opponent tilts his head slightly, as if approving of the caution. “I see, it would be good to warm up first.” Then, he deposits his own chip. It is of the same value, but it seems to look slightly different from yours. “I'll give you the honor of starting. What is your move?”
You look at the dice in his hand. Will he be the one throwing them?
There is no time to think about it. As your mother once said, never let your opponent know what you are thinking!
“Even.” But as soon as the words leave your mouth, you feel your heart thumping. You aren't used to choosing without thinking first. But what is there to think about? The odds are equal.
“If that is your choice, I have no alternative but to choose odd.” Jack shakes the dice and rolls them onto the table. The dice seem to roll for an eternity, and you cannot tear your eyes away from them. One die slows down and stops right in front of you.
“Five.”
One part of you relaxes instantly, the other… does not. But your eyes go straight to the other die when you realize the sound hasn't stopped yet.
The die stops in front of a woman, who seems startled by it.
“Six, do you mind telling us the number?”
“Six” nods quickly. A low murmur comes from her, but it is audible enough.
“Three.”
The air returns to your lungs.
Five… and three.
“Eight is an even number,” Jack states, looking first at the dice… and only then at you. “Congratulations, you won the round.” He begins to applaud.
The people at the table applaud as well. Your chest swells with pride, even though it was just the first round. Your relief is cut short when a chip enters your field of vision. It is one of his chips. You identify a hat symbol on it, which is the same hat Jack is wearing. It must be his trademark.
“Thank you, shall we move on to the next one?”
And so, the matches continue.
Even with your heart distracting you with strong emotions of pride, you do your best to study the place and the people while concentrating on the game. Some rounds you win, while others you lose. Different from what you expected, your defeats only drive you to bet more. It is hard to suppress this feeling.
Truly, it seems to be an ordinary casino; you dare to say it even seems fair. This thought perturbs you a little, as you have always been wary of casinos.
They were the ones that made your parents disappear, after all.
Even with those thoughts haunting you, your emotions did not disrupt your concentration. It was as if someone else was controlling your body while you simply watched.
“Fifty dollars.” You pushed the chip of the same value forward. “What do you think? Or do you believe it is too much for you?”
Jack scoffed, but his hand did not hesitate as it reached toward the compartment. “Such confidence. Don't you think–” He stopped mid-sentence, his gaze fixing on the open space. Sensing your weight upon him, he turned around.
You, innocently, pushed the remainder of his chips forward, totaling exactly one hundred dollars.
The table went silent. He stared, a stillness dominating everyone, even you. His expression remained unreadable. Was he genuinely surprised or just faking it?
Jack’s face softened. He took off his hat, bowing his head in your direction. “You are a formidable opponent, I admit.” He placed the hat back on his head and clapped his hands twice. “The show is over, folks. Thanks for participating!”
The people exchanged glances and then looked between you and the man. They dispersed through the crowd in the lounge with surprising speed.
“They seem tense.”
“Who wouldn't be?” His voice now came from behind you. You didn't hear him stand up. “I’m sure the presence of a new player here left everyone anxious.” He extended his hand to you, which you accepted.
“And how do you know I’ll be back?”
“I don't know, but it is what I hope for,” he added as he guided you away from the table toward the exit. On the way, you felt more eyes on you; it's as if they were talking about you behind your back.
“A pleasure, truly.” He pulled an elegant, obsidian card from the inner pocket of his coat, its surface catching the dim light. “If you ever reconsider coming back, or simply want a different kind of game, I am at your disposal.” He offered it—a silent invitation.
You hesitated, your fingers touching the cold plastic. “Thank you. But I already have one.” You pulled out the card you had received before. It wasn't obsidian like his; yours was a deep, iridescent violet, definitely fancier.
Jack’s eyes widened, a genuine shock finally breaking through his facade. He stared at the violet card, then looked back up at you. His lips parted slightly, a silent question hanging between you.
“Where did you get that?” he finally managed to say, his voice a low murmur. “That isn't—” He cut himself off, shaking his head. “Well, never mind. I wish you a good night.”
Before you could reply, Jack had already slipped his own card into his pocket and turned around, quickening his pace inside and leaving no time to say goodbye.
You stood there, watching him disappear. By the way everyone treated him, it was clear he held a high position in that place… So why did he react that way upon seeing your card?
A gust of cold wind cuts through your thoughts, bringing you back to reality. You shiver slightly and look at your watch.
There are more important things now, like your son, waiting for you at home.
“I wish you could come with me…” Theo’s voice comes out low, muffled against your coat, as he clings to you as if he could delay the farewell. “Won't you feel lonely?”
“I admit I'll miss the mess you make around the house.” You adjust his collar, lingering a bit longer than necessary. “Enjoy the trip, okay? And no ignoring the teachers.”
Theo nods, half serious and half excited. Then he leans in, plants a quick kiss on your cheek, and runs off.
It is the first time you are going to be away from your son for so long, and worry refuses to leave you in peace. Still, with Theo distracted and happy, you will finally have some time to think of new ways to make money.
You watch him cross the courtyard toward the bus. He hands his backpack to one of the staff members and steps onto the first step, or at least tries to. His foot pauses in mid-air.
And then he walks back.
“What’s wrong?” you ask. “Did you forget something?”
“Here!” He pulls the small pendant attached to his clothes and places it in your hands. “If you stay with Grandma, you won't be alone!”
Before you can answer, he is already running back, boarding the bus and waving excitedly before disappearing inside. Normally, you would call him back, insist that he take the pendant with him. But this time, you can't. You just stand there watching, and wave back when he appears at the bus window.
When the vehicle finally disappears from sight, your gaze drops to the object in your hands. The metal is worn, slightly rusted—a clear sign of the time that has passed over it.
“Theo is very attached to that, I’ve always wondered why.”
Mrs. Black’s voice appears beside you. She stares in the same direction the bus went. You thought she would have gone along with the students, so her presence here catches you by surprise.
“Well… it’s a family heirloom. I always ask him to be careful,” you reply, trying to sound casual before changing the subject. “I thought you were going to accompany them on the field trip.”
She shakes her head. “I love my kids, but I also need to rest… and look after my own interests.” Her hands toy with a deck of cards you hadn't even noticed before. “Are you busy? I’d like to chat.”
Your heart grows heavy. You hope she doesn't bring up that matter again.
As if sensing your apprehension, she softens her expression and rests her hand on your shoulder. “Relax… it’s nothing like that.” A calm smile appears on her lips as she already begins to guide you toward one of the courtyard tables. “How about a card game?”
At first, your feet don't move. The pendant is still held firmly between your fingers, as if anchoring you to the spot. Even so, you end up nodding. Perhaps… you really do need a distraction.
You sit down opposite each other. The table still carries chalk marks and small scratches made by distracted students. Mrs. Black shuffles the cards skillfully, the movements almost hypnotic.
For a second, it reminds you of Jack.
“You seem tense,” she comments as she deals the cards.
You pick them up slowly, organizing them without much rush. The silence hangs heavily for a bit before you answer. “It’s the first time I’ve been away from him for this long.”
“I figured that was the case,” she agrees, resting her chin on her hand. “But it doesn't seem to be just that.”
Silence.
You could ignore it. You could deflect the subject, as you always do. But there is something in the way she speaks… it doesn't sound invasive, nor insistent. It is almost as if she were simply… there, waiting for you.
“You don’t have to tell me anything,” she reassures you, drawing a card from the deck. “But sometimes, keeping it all to yourself is more exhausting than sharing.”
You throw a card onto the table, avoiding her gaze. “If you’re trying to sell me one of your therapy sessions, I’m warning you right now, I can’t afford it.”
A faint smile touches the corner of her lips. “What a good memory… I didn’t think you’d remember the old cards.” She covers your play with another. “And don’t worry. Even though my duty is to care for the children, the parents always end up being my patients too. In the end, they are the ones who influence their children’s lives the most.”
Your delay in responding does not go unnoticed.
“Don’t you remember what I said? I care about all my students—”
“And what do you want me to do?”
The sentence comes out colder than you intended. She falls silent, observing you over her cards.
“You people always say the same thing…” Without even fully realizing what you are doing, you draw and discard cards on autopilot, as if your hands know how to play on their own. “As if I wasn't trying every single day… Why do you want to take my son away from me so badly?!”
The words pour out quickly, difficult to contain.
“While everyone else ignored him, practically leaving him to die in the street, I was the one who stopped! I was the one who paid attention!” Your hand trembles as you draw another card. “Even with problems worse than yours, I tried… I went there… I did something! Alone… with no one… I took care of him, fed him, and—”
Your breath catches.
Each word seems to tear away a piece of your oxygen until it simply runs out. You fall silent, forced to take a deep breath, trying to compose yourself. Black says nothing. When your breathing finally stabilizes, she plays two cards on the table.
“You won.”
…Won?
You look at your own hand in confusion. There are no cards left. They are all piled in the center. You have no memory of playing them. In fact, you barely remember paying attention to the game at all.
“Someone once told me that simple or strategic games activate the brain in a way that can help organize what a person feels.” Black pauses, as if structuring her own train of thought. “Many people can express themselves better when they aren't fully focused on the conversation, and it makes everything more comfortable, too.” She continues, adjusting her posture slightly before concluding. “I’m glad it worked for you.”
You don’t think that was the case, but it’s unusual for you to talk this much. You’ve always had a habit of keeping many parts of your life vague, avoiding drawing attention to yourself.
“Maybe I’m just being too emotional.” Embarrassment becomes evident, and you lower your head. “I’m sorry for losing control like that with you.”
A card is placed under your chin, and with a gentle nudge, your head is lifted back to its previous position. “You are just tired, and it’s my job to take care of people like you.” The card pulls away, and Black takes a watch from her pocket. “When you say ‘problems worse than yours,’ what exactly do you mean? Do you mind explaining?”
You’ve already gone too far. So… what’s the harm in continuing?
“There’s not much to say,” you murmur. “I was 14 when I found Theo. It was the same day I lost my parents… and I’ve been taking care of him ever since.”
She frowns slightly. “So young… And you didn't contact the authorities?”
“No, I was alone. Feeling betrayed.” The sentence comes out in fragments, as if each word dragged another memory along with it. “I just wanted someone’s company. That’s why I didn't hesitate when I saw that baby… abandoned by his own parents, just like me.”
“Did you not have a good relationship?”
Your fingers drum on the table, searching for some semblance of order in the chaos of your memories. “It’s complicated…” you say, softer. “They weren't bad. Just… impulsive. Especially my mother.”
One day, your mother and father went out to “work” together, as she used to put it.
“Take care of yourself. And don't open the door for anyone,” your father noted while filling a briefcase with cash.
“We won't be long, my sweetheart.” Your mother caresses your cheeks and plants a kiss on your forehead. “Remember that we love you very much.”
You nodded in silence, hugging your parents before saying goodbye. When the door closed, you ran to the window, wanting to watch them leave. Through the closed glass, their voices arrived distorted, almost impossible to understand. Still, one phrase escaped clearly enough to stick in your mind.
“If this is the last step I need to take for you and my child, then this will be my final bet.”
…
The silence in the house grew far too long.
When you finally heard knocking, it wasn't theirs.
The door swung open before you could even reach the handle. Men walked in without permission, occupying the space as if they already knew every corner of the house. One of them went straight to the living room and began tossing everything upside down; another opened cabinets in a rush, as if racing against time, completely uncaring of anything breaking in his path.
“What are you doing?! Where are my parents?!” Your question came out loud, echoing through the room.
No one answered.
You tried to cross the room to block one of them, but your body was easily shoved aside. You fell onto the cold floor, the impact hard enough to make you whimper.
The movement inside the house continued as if you weren't even there.
A luxury moving truck was parked outside. Boxes, furniture, and memories were loaded inside.
“Stop! This is our house!” You tried again, already on your feet, failing to understand what was happening.
One of the men turned just enough to speak to you before leaving.
“Your mother left you, kid. This place doesn't belong to you. Not anymore.”
“The last thing I saw was the truck door closing before they drove away.” The words flow out while you fiddle with the pendant between your fingers. “I couldn't take anything with me. The only piece left was this.”
“So your parents simply… never returned? There isn't a single clue as to what happened?”
You choose not to bring up the part about the bets, nor the fact that they were constantly involved in that lifestyle.
“No, none. That same day, while looking for a place to sleep, I heard a child crying coming from the dumpster. And the rest you know.”
Black watches you for a few seconds before commenting, with a sort of restrained astonishment. “It’s the first time I’ve seen someone manage to keep their voice steady while crying.”
With those words, you realize the sheer scale of your own emotions. Your chest still aches with the pain of being abandoned, and the table below you is covered in wet drops. “I didn't want to lose my composure, it’s just a sensitive subject for me. So much time has passed, and this pain has never faded.”
“Don't hold it in; it needs to come out of you.” Black places a tissue in front of you, and you wipe your face.
The next few minutes drag on. The tears stop not out of relief, but out of pure exhaustion, as if your body had given up on producing them anymore.
“Still not feeling better?” she asks, interrupting the flow of your thoughts. “I have a technique that might help with that.”
“...And what would that be?”
She raises the small watch between you, moving it slowly from side to side. “Hypnosis.”
Your arms cross, an eyebrow arching. “Isn't that just a manipulation technique?”
She shows no irritation at your suspicion. “It’s an ancient method, so I can’t blame you for thinking that way. Still, it is effective and works on several areas of the mind. Since you seem troubled by memories of the past, I can apply a hypnosis focused on mental peace.”
You let out a long sigh. There is no conviction in this for you, but you also lack the energy to refuse something new. Besides, she has been taking care of your son for a long time… There aren't many reasons to doubt her.
“If a psychologist thinks it can help…” You give in, adjusting your posture in the chair.
“Excellent.” Black snaps her fingers before positioning herself correctly. “Please, close your eyes.”
You obey.
“What do you hear?”
With your vision consumed by darkness, your other senses grow sharper. “The wind… birds… trees…”
She makes a faint, almost imperceptible sound of approval. Then, soft clicks begin to echo in front of you. You deduce it’s from the watch.
“Can you follow that sound?”
You try to locate the source solely by what reaches your ears. A higher point stands out on one side, then on the other, and you begin to follow them. At first, it’s hard to keep the rhythm, but gradually everything falls into harmony—or at least, that’s the sensation you get.
“Very well… You may open your eyes now.”
Won't this ruin my concentration?
The thought remains strictly internal. When your vision returns, everything appears blurry, slowly reorganizing itself until it takes shape. Your eyes remain perfectly locked onto the movement of the watch, as if the difference between seeing and not seeing held no relevance.
“Focus on the watch. Nothing exists besides my presence, this movement, and your memories.”
Your heart, which had already been slowing down without you noticing, seems to retreat even further. Gradually, the sound of the watch fades, replaced by a low, continuous melody that grows slowly, filling the space around you.
The watch vanishes from her hand, and Black stands up.
Was that it? Is it over?
The words won't come out again. The singing continues, but Black’s lips remain still, as if the origin of the melody didn't belong to her. She rests one knee on the table and then both hands, crawling toward you.
You try to react, to force your own body to stand up or at least move any part of it, but you can’t. The rigidity only intensifies when you feel hands settling onto your shoulders from behind.
“Let’s not ruin the process, shall we?”
The whisper is accompanied by a kiss below your ear, causing your entire body to go numb right along with the rhythm of your heartbeat. The presence behind you vanishes, but the touch remains, merely changing its source. It now belongs to the figure standing in front of you.
Your face remains turned toward her chest, unable to lift itself. Still, there is enough consciousness left to perceive her hands moving slowly up your shoulders, tracing a path until they lock around your neck. More precisely, your throat.
“There is no escaping the pain…” The melody weakens, and Black’s voice echoes around you. “What you can do is… replace it.”
Right after her words, her hands close around your neck. But the pain feels strangely distant, insufficient to trigger panic. Still, you need to breathe. Your body gives way, your eyes closing against your will, and your head falls against her.
Black’s body vibrates with a low laugh, but the grip does not loosen or diminish. Arms wrap around your shoulders, pulling you even closer to her.
After an unmeasurable amount of time, new hands emerge, as if born from the same place, sliding up to your face. They hold your cheeks tenderly, forcing your gaze upward.
For a moment, you almost think you see confusion in her expression. But it disappears almost immediately, replaced by a calm smile.
From the edge of your field of vision, you see other figures around you. All identical to her. All bearing the same expression.
Your view is blocked as Black leans in and presses her forehead against yours. When her lips finally move, they brush yours lightly as she speaks.
“Wake up.”
The kiss happens as a continuation of the command. Before your eyes close completely, you notice that hers remain open. Fixed on you.
Until everything goes dark.
…
“I apologize, my lord, but there is nothing that can be done regarding your money.”
The man slams his fist onto the table. The wood cracks under the impact, but he doesn't seem to notice.
“Your games are rigged! That’s why I lost! I demand a new game, with my rules!”
Silence.
“As you wish.”
…
What was that?
…
“I have never seen anyone play like that before… My congratulations, miss.”
You realize you are smiling. The cards glide between your fingers naturally.
“Everyone has their own techniques, don't they?”
…
This voice is definitely Black’s, but you can’t see where it’s coming from.
…
“Filthy pieces of shit… what’s the point of betting if you don't even have real money?”
You count bills, organizing everything inside a briefcase while murmuring to yourself. Your movements are far too calm for someone hearing screams behind them.
“You stole it! Give it back, you miserable whore—”
…
Is it coming… from you?
…
Your consciousness returns to your body. Black is still in the same position as before, but the watch is now motionless in front of you. Noticing your state, she pulls the object away from your face and slips it into her pocket.
“You went quite a while without giving any sign… can I consider this a success?”
The words take time to form, as if they were still stuck in your throat. “Ah… yes, yes. I think it worked.”
Black arches an eyebrow, observing you closely and with a degree of concern. “I’m sorry. You probably relived bad memories and intense emotions during the process, so it’s normal to feel this way… But what about now? When you think about it, do you still feel the same?”
You search within yourself. The memories of those days return. The abandonment, the hunger, the mistreatment, the constant feeling of having nowhere to go… But instead of the usual pain tightening your chest, something else emerges.
Strength. As if revisiting those memories brought you confidence and determination… How is that possible?
“No, I feel more capable now. You’re right, I saw bad memories, but I’m fine now.”
Black’s expression softens, and she gives your hand a few light pats in a comforting gesture. “That’s good. Take it easy for the rest of the day. Your mind still needs to adjust to this.” She stands up and gathers the cards on the table. “If you need me, you know where to find me.”
You barely register the rest of her words. Your fingers trace your lips, as if you could still feel a warmth lingering there.
“God, am I really that lonely…?”
You shake your head, trying to dismiss the thoughts before they grow. Then, you stand up and head back home.
“Would you mind leaving me alone for a bit longer? I need to think.”
The man hesitates, his eyebrows knitting together once more that night, but he finally nods in silence before leaving, closing the door with a sharp click.
Silence.
Why so many questions? Should you lie or tell the truth?
Are you a virgin? Are you financially stable? Do you have debts? Do you believe in luck or bad luck? Are you easily influenced? Do you tolerate pain well?
The employee had tried to reassure you, saying it only served to “adjust the environment” to your preferences. But that didn't convince you in the slightest.
You’ve read the contract several times. Your eyes have scanned every single line of the questionnaire until you’ve memorized the order of the questions.
There is nothing.
No hidden clauses. No absurd conditions. No visible traps.
You knew that at some point something like this would arrive, but you thought they would let you stay here longer without requesting something in return.
…
Why are you even here again? Why are you betting? Don't you remember what happened to your parents?
You throw yourself back against the chair, your fingers nervously playing with the pendant in your pocket. A sense of calm washes over you after a while, and when you open your eyes, certain choices seem more appealing than others.
Maybe you don't have to choose between truth and lie.
Maybe you can use both.
They have no way of knowing which is which.
Your hand begins to move almost on its own, marking answers rapidly, guided by a silent instinct you don't even attempt to question.
Until the last question.
Unlike the others, your mind doesn't whisper a thing. It doesn't pull you in either direction. As if, this time, the choice were entirely yours.
Are you a virgin?
The tip of the pen hovers over the paper, wavering between “yes” and “no.” Do they know? Do they know about your son? And, more importantly… do they know he isn't biological?
Probably not. There is no way for them to know everything.
You press the pen down and mark “no.”
It’s simpler that way. More consistent with the story anyone would construct upon looking at you. After all, you have a child; that’s enough to stop them from questioning it.
You set the pen aside and ring the bell.
The employee returns almost immediately. His eyes sweep over you quickly, and there is something akin to satisfaction in his expression as he collects the papers, though he doesn't even bother to check them.
“I will forward this to the responsible department,” he says, with the same practiced formality as before. “I believe we will return with an answer in less than ten minutes.”
You take the pendant from your pocket, open it carefully, and look at the photo of your family. For a long time, you avoided doing this because it always hurt too much. But now it’s different. Instead of pain, you feel only a mixture of longing and a certain courage.
Black really worked a miracle, huh…
“I’m back.”
You close the pendant carefully and pocket it again, standing up right after.
“You made quite an impression in your first game here,” he comments, already turning his body to lead the way. “There are a lot of people interested in playing against you. But someone was faster and secured exclusivity. Shall we?”
For a moment, you thought you’d have some time to get to know the place better before betting, but it was predictable that they would already have everything set up for a potential new regular.
You cross the hall together. Your eyes scan the room, but you don't spot a single free table. After a few steps, the employee stops in front of a closed door.
“It won't be out here in the hall?”
“The hall is only for potential new clients. For regulars, the space is private.”
You furrow your brow but say nothing as you enter. The environment is noisier than the previous hall, and the scent is much stronger.
Alcohol, sweat… and iron.
That last one makes you freeze. The employee notices and looks back.
“Any problem?”
You try to look around, but you can’t. It’s as if your head were locked in a single direction. “What is this place?”
“You should already know, if you signed the contract.”
The coldness in his voice gives you the final push needed to turn your head. The smile doesn't match the tone you just heard.
Jack’s arm hooks around your shoulders before you can react. It isn't an aggressive gesture, but it’s firm enough to prevent any attempt to pull back.
“I didn't expect to see you here so soon, ‘Fortune’...”
Is it just your imagination… or does he look completely unhappy to see you?
“...Jack, right?” you reply, refusing to be intimidated. “It’s a pleasure to see you again.”
He tilts his head slightly, as if analyzing you.
“Likewise.” His eyes roam your face for a second longer than necessary, narrowing with interest. “I’m looking forward to our new game.”
So he was the one who booked the match. If you didn't know better, you’d say he made a point of having you as an opponent. Jack lets you go and settles into the armchair naturally, dominating the space. You sit in yours, keeping your posture firm.
“What game are we playing today?”
“Impatient, aren't we?”
He scanned the room. Other people began to approach and, in silence, occupied the chairs around the table. No one said a word; they just watched, as if waiting for a show to begin.
“That depends on what our dear guests choose.”
You look at them, and your body instantly weakens. It’s as if you were a dessert surrounded by wild animals.
An impeccably dressed employee appears beside the table. Without a word, he places a deck of cards between you.
Jack raises an eyebrow.
“Liar’s Dice…?” he murmurs as he picks up the deck. The cards spin through his fingers before returning to his palm. “Interesting. Seems our guests are eager today.” He raises his eyes to you. “It’s going to be a quick game.”
There is something about his calm demeanor that bothers you.
“I assume you know how to play cards?” he asks.
“Of course.” Your answer comes out too quickly as you lean forward slightly. “I’m no beginner.”
“Excellent.” His smile widens a fraction. “Then I don't need to go easy on you.”
“The rules are simple.” Jack rested his elbows on the table, leaning forward. The low lighting of the lounge left half his face in shadow. “You draw a card, look at it… and tell me what it is. You can lie or tell the truth, and I decide whether to believe you or not.” He paused briefly, letting silence claim the space. “The loser receives a penalty. And the penalty will be chosen between Sweet and Poison.”
“Sweet and… poison?” The names of the options left you uncomfortable. “What does that even mean?”
“If I explained everything now, it would ruin the fun.” He tilted his head slightly with a half-smile. “Some things are more interesting when discovered at the right moment.” With a smooth movement, he pushed the deck of cards toward you. “I’ll let you start.”
You nod and draw the first card. Without breaking eye contact, you lie.
“King of Hearts.”
Jack watches your face for a few seconds.
“Truth.”
You flip the card onto the table. The 3 of Clubs appeared under the dim light. For a second, surprise flashed across Jack’s face, but his smug smile quickly returned, far too proud for someone who had just guessed wrong.
“Looks like I started off poorly,” he comments, leaning back in his chair. “Sweet or Poison?”
“...Sweet?” you answered, unsure. It made no sense to overthink something when you didn't even know what it was.
He clicks his tongue, gathering the cards. “A safe choice.” The cards glided between his long fingers with impressive ease. “Since you chose, I’ll start this round.”
He draws a card, takes a quick look, and places it face down on the table.
“King of Diamonds.”
You narrow your eyes, searching for any sign in his expression.
“Lie.”
The card flips over, and your stomach drops.
“Losing your composure already?” He laughs softly. “We’re just getting started.”
You cross your arms, trying to hide your irritation. “Just tell me what you want.”
“Sure.” Jack’s gaze traveled slowly down your clothes before returning to your face. “Take off your jacket.”
Your body freezes before you can even respond.
“What’s the matter?” he teased, raising an eyebrow. “I just think you’re wearing too many clothes.”
The silence in the room felt heavier now. The people around the table watched without saying a single word. Jack’s gaze weighed on you almost physically.
Well, rules were rules.
“Just that?” You tried to sound indifferent. With slightly trembling fingers, you unzipped it. The sound of metal ran loud in the silence. The jacket slid slowly down your arms and was left on the back of the chair.
His eyes followed every inch of the movement, without a trace of shame.
“Very well.”
Jack snaps his fingers, and one of the employees takes the jacket and hands it to him. Jack drapes it over his own shoulders, completely ignoring the glare you send his way.
You pull the next card abruptly, nearly messing up the deck, angry at yourself for letting it get to you like that.
Emotions are powerful; you can’t afford to be careless.
Taking a deep breath, you relax your facial muscles before looking at the card.
“Queen of Diamonds.”
Jack seems to think for a few seconds.
“Truth.”
His expression falls when you flip the card toward him. You don't understand why he seemed so certain he would win.
“We’re even, I suppose,” he comments distractedly while spinning one of the rings on his fingers. “What do you want?”
You open your mouth… and realize you haven't thought about it.
Damn it.
You look away for a second, frustrated. Since the start of the game, your emotions feel stronger than they should.
…But you aren't the only one. Jack also seems more transparent than usual, and it doesn't look intentional. His expressions escape too quickly. Maybe it’s the environment, or maybe it’s the fact that he’s playing against someone he still can’t completely predict.
Either way, you’re going to use it to your advantage.
“How about a drink?”
His body relaxes. You wonder what kind of penalty he was expecting.
“Why not?” He taps the table twice. “I was getting thirsty anyway.”
As if summoned by your words, a silver tray appeared by his side. A low crystal glass slid onto the table, filled with a thick, amber liquid. Jack raised the glass toward you in a silent toast. When you decline, he simply shrugs before downing it all at once.
“Smooth.” He slammed the empty glass onto the wood. “My turn.”
The game continues.
Round after round, a strange sensation begins to grow in the back of your mind.
Another glass appears. He drinks again. This time, it takes him a little longer to rest the empty glass back on the table.
The wins and losses begin to blur. You win and then lose, he wins and then loses. It never changes.
At first, you think it’s a coincidence. But later, it feels like a pattern.
Every time you think you’ve figured out the logic of the game, the result repeats itself in the exact same way. As if someone were controlling it before the cards were even drawn.
But whenever you try to find a flaw… you find nothing.
Meanwhile, the penalties stack up.
A bad round takes your shirt away. Another makes another piece disappear. The chill of the room begins to touch your skin more and more.
On the other side of the table, the empty glasses pile up.
Even while maintaining his relaxed posture, Jack no longer looks as immaculate as before. His shirt sleeves are crooked, a few strands of hair have fallen over his forehead, and his face has taken on a reddish tint from the alcohol.
Now you are sitting there in just your underwear, arms crossed without realizing it, trying to ignore the cold and the stares around the table.
Meanwhile, he holds another glass between his fingers. His smile comes easier now, and his movements have gotten slightly slower, but not enough to look truly out of control.
And that is exactly what’s bothersome.
Because even drunk, Jack still seems to know exactly what he’s doing. His eyes remain sharp, observing every inch of your goosebump-covered skin.
“Cold? Unlucky.” His lips curl into a teasing smile. “Though I suppose that’s the price you pay for being so reckless.”
“Rereckless?” you retort, rubbing your bare arms in a futile attempt to regain some warmth. “You can’t expect someone to be good at a game they just learned… especially when it all depends on luck.”
Your attention wanders across the room, noting how the other players seemed increasingly entertained as the rounds progressed. Some laughed, others placed discreet bets on what would happen next, tracking your discomfort as if it were just another part of the entertainment.
And, by the way they watched you both, it is exactly that.
Jack shifts his position in the chair, drumming his fingers against the table before speaking. “I have to admit, you’re surprising me. You handle much more than you look.” The glass spins slowly between his fingers until he leaves it on the wood with a small clink. Then, he slides the deck toward you again. “Another round?”
You stare at the cards for a few seconds before answering. “We can’t stop now, can we?”
“Seems you’ve already figured out how things work. Indeed, we can’t.”
Your hand reaches for the deck but stops mid-motion. Three people approach the table at the same time.
The murmuring around the room drops just enough to make the scene strangely uncomfortable. One of the people places a box next to Jack, and another places a second box in front of you. The third is the same man who had brought the cards earlier.
Jack furrows his brow, his expression tightening in a clear sign of irritation.
“Already?” His voice comes out loaded with disbelief as he leans back in his chair. “We haven't even started the fun part.”
“Our guests have already made their choices regarding the penalties.”
“And you couldn't wait until the teams were chosen?”
“The teams have also been finalized, Mr. Jack,” the employee replies without altering his impeccably controlled tone. “Since the process concluded ahead of schedule, we opted to bring forward the placement.”
An irritated sound escapes him, like that of a child when thwarted. Jack crosses his arms, flashing his displeasure without the slightest effort to hide it.
“If you have any objections, sir, we can halt and—”
“No,” Jack cuts him off before he can even finish. “It would be a waste to stop now.”
“...As you wish.”
The employee gives a slight nod before stepping away in silence. Jack watches his every step, muttering something too low for you to understand. After a few seconds, he finally turns his attention back to you.
“Looks like our little game is going to get even more… lively,” he says while playing with one of his chips. “It’s time for our guests to join our bets.”
You cross your legs, trying to understand where this is heading. “I thought they were just here to watch. How exactly is this going to work with so many people?”
“They won't be playing directly, darling.” Jack points to the boxes on the table as if it were obvious. “Now, whenever someone loses, besides fulfilling the winner’s wish, they will also need to draw a penalty from here.”
The questions still pile up in your head, but the feeling that no answers would come makes you simply accept what was said.
You nod and pick up one of the cards. This time, no one intervenes. “Is there any chance I can get some clothes out of this?”
“If they’re in a good mood, who knows?” He shrugs. “But I doubt the style will be to your taste.”
The comment passes right by you. Focus shifts to the paper between your fingers before it is lowered against the wood.
"Queen of Hearts."
"Liar."
Your jaw tightens. Beneath the table, your nails dig into your palm in a clenched fist, an attempt to anchor the frustration before spinning the card toward him.
Jack leans forward, his victorious gaze fixed on the paper confirming the bluff. He was right again.
"You're trembling." His attention drops to your tense shoulders. The urge to cross your arms and hide is almost irresistible. "Let's settle this. Come here."
"You can't be serious."
He settles into his seat, parting his knees in an inviting gesture. "I'm waiting."
"Are you trying to humiliate me?" Your question comes out low, laced with contained irritation, while the cold seems to seep deeper under your skin.
The idea of simply saying no crosses your mind, but the way he looks at you makes it clear he has no intention of accepting a refusal.
"...Fine." The words escape in a reluctant tone as you push your chair back and stand up slowly, keeping your posture firm despite the biting cold cutting through your body. Showing weakness in front of these people is the last thing you intend to do.
Every step toward him sends a shiver down your exposed legs. As the distance closes, the strong scent of whiskey mixed with his cologne fills the air. Jack lightly taps his thigh, waiting.
The gesture makes your stomach churn in a mix of nervousness and discomfort, but after a brief hesitation, you finally settle onto his lap. The moment you arrange yourself there, his arms wrap around your waist, pulling you close to his warm chest. The heat of his body contrasts with the freezing room, coaxing an involuntary shiver from you.
"And how exactly do you expect us to play like this without ending up seeing each other's cards?"
"Like this."
Unhurriedly, he grips your waist and shifts you slightly to the side, adjusting your position against him as if that solved the problem. You shoot a skeptical look his way, unable to believe such a minimal adjustment would make a difference, but decide not to argue. It isn’t worth fueling the amusement of the people around you.
Silence reclaims the table, heavy and uncomfortable, broken only by the dry sound of cards being shuffled between someone's fingers.
"Don't you think you're forgetting something?"
The question arrives with that irritating expectation that immediately makes your stomach tighten. Before you can even comprehend, the same box from before is slowly pushed across the table until it stops in front of you.
"This is your punishment," Jack murmurs far too close to your ear, resting his chin near your shoulder. "You made the people who bet on you lose money. So the least you can do is compensate everyone with a little entertainment."
For a few seconds, you simply stare at the box sitting before you, resisting the childish urge to shove it away. But continuing to argue would only prolong this. Worse, it would give them exactly the reaction they want to see.
Reluctantly, you lift the lid. Inside, resting on the dark fabric lining the bottom, are several folded slips of paper. You pinch one between your fingers, trying to ignore the suffocating attention around the table, and unfold it.
The very first line makes your stomach sink.
Give five hickeys. Wherever your opponent chooses.
Shame rushes instantly to your face, impossible to control. You curse your own body for betraying any reaction, especially when you notice the satisfied gleam surfacing in Jack's eyes.
"Hmm?" He leans a bit closer, clearly noting your change in expression. "What is it?"
Before even thinking, you fold the paper back up haphazardly, squeezing the note between your fingers until the edges crumple.
Bad choice. The simple gesture immediately sparks curiosity around the table.
"Oh, now you'll have to read it," someone comments from across the room, amused.
"Or I could read it for you," Jack remarks smoothly.
The suggestion makes your body freeze instantly, because from his tone, you both know that doesn't sound like a generous offer.
"Whatever." You shove the note into his hand with more force than necessary. "Just choose so we can move on."
Jack takes the paper without reacting to your irritation. With his fingers, he slowly undoes the crumpled marks, smoothing the note out before lowering his eyes to the sentence written there. "What sick people..." he comments quietly, more entertained than actually bothered. "Five hickeys," he announces for the whole room to hear, holding up the paper. "Just that?"
The whispering intensifies around the table, mixed with muffled laughter and comments you prefer not to try and understand. Several gazes return to the two of you with renewed interest.
Jack seems completely immune to the atmosphere.
"Well, that seems simple enough." He lets the note drop onto the table, unconcerned, before turning his full attention back to you. "Relax, Fortune."
Before you can answer, his hand already finds your waist, attempting to pull you a few centimeters closer. Your reflex is immediate; you grab his wrist and push his hand away from your body.
"I can move by myself."
"But I can make it easier," he replies, entirely unbothered by the rejection. "You get so hostile over so little." His eyes travel slowly over you, lingering long enough to make your skin prickle with discomfort. "Let's see..." Jack seems to ponder, weighing his options. "Maybe it's best to start with the most obvious place."
Jack takes your wrist, pulling your hand up and placing it against the side of his neck. His skin is hot beneath your touch, and you can feel the steady thrum of his pulse right against your fingertips.
"Here." He tilts his head slightly, exposing the area just below his ear. "Seems like a good spot, don't you think?"
You try to pull your arm back to cross it against your body, but his fingers remain locked around your wrist. Irritated, you look up at him.
"Do you really want to do this in such a visible place?"
"Of course." The answer is immediate. "It's exactly the kind of thing they want to watch." His gaze sweeps briefly over the surrounding table before returning to you. "Easy to reach, impossible to hide... It will keep everyone entertained."
You roll your eyes but lean in anyway. Jack loosens his grip and moves his hand away, giving you enough space to decide what to do.
At first, you hesitate, not quite knowing how much force to use.
Part of you thinks it would only be fair to vent some of the irritation he has caused since the night began. Another part knows that provoking Jack too much would likely only worsen the situation.
So you choose the safer path. You apply minimal pressure, barely grazing him with your teeth. There is something uncomfortably intimate about the situation; your heart is beating so hard... not that it is necessarily a bad feeling.
A low sound escapes him.
"No need to hold back so much..." The sentence comes out strained, and he clears his throat right after, as if trying to regain his composure. "I can take it."
Your body reacts before you can think straight, obeying his command. Behind you, the gazes remain heavy, watchful, hungry for the slightest reaction. You close your eyes for a second, trying to ignore the suffocating feeling of being watched by everyone around.
"Being the target of your punishment..." He lets the phrase hang. "If they were all with me, I don't think I'd complain."
His usual provocative edge softens in his words, replaced by something unexpectedly gentle. Perhaps it was the alcohol, or perhaps Jack was simply easier to rattle than he liked to admit?
After a few minutes, you finally pull back. Jack barely leaves any space between you before reaching for your hand again, guiding it slowly to the opposite side of his neck. This time, much closer to the throat.
You bite your lip hard enough to taste blood, trying to distract yourself from the unwanted sensations. The metallic taste fills your mouth, helping to keep you minimally grounded.
Slowly and hesitantly, you lean forward. This time, you apply a little more force, leaving a visible mark on his pale skin. The redness stands out against his flesh, a physical reminder of your actions.
"G-Good." The praise sends an unpleasant shiver running down your spine. "Only three left."
And like a patient instructor, he continues to guide you through the game. But something shifts as the minutes pass.
With each hickey, Jack seems more... docile.
His usual sarcasm gradually fades, replaced by a strange passivity. If you didn't know him, you might say he was almost hypnotized. Or worse, completely at your mercy.
When he notices your lingering gaze, he turns his face away with an irritated scoff but says nothing, simply drawing another card.
"Why are you rushing things?" you ask. "Don't want to keep the show going for your audience?"
"They've had enough entertainment."
The answer comes clipped. As if wanting to end the subject immediately, he pulls another card.
And loses.
His expression darkens before he lets out a resigned sigh. "Fine. Who would you like to see dead?"
You smile.
"Take off all your clothes." The request draws immediate exclamations from the people around. "It's not fair that I'm the only one almost naked here, don't you think?"
"...What?" Jack snaps his head up so fast it looks like he took a slap. His gaze desperately searches for the staff member watching the match from a distance, as if expecting some saving intervention.
The staff member merely shrugs.
"Damned amateurs..." Jack growls before turning his attention back to you. "As you wish. Though this is far from fair."
He gestures to the few pieces still covering your body.
"My intention isn't to make things fair." You cross your arms. "It's to make things worse for you."
The spectators' laughter grows louder, and Jack rolls his eyes with evident irritation. Still, he begins to undo his shirt buttons one by one. Then, mid-motion, something seems to occur to him.
"Actually..." The corner of his lips curves slowly. The mischievous glint appearing in his eyes is a warning that he just had an idea. "Why don't you do it for me, Fortune?"
Your blood runs cold.
"I'm sure our guests would love to watch."
For a moment, you stare at him in silence. Is he trying to entertain the clients so they go easier on the punishment awaiting him?
Whatever the answer, you don't like the satisfied expression on his face one bit. Well, you have no choice.
"I can do you that favor; after all, I'd have to get up anyway..." you say, trying to gather courage.
With trembling hands, you turn toward him. Slowly, you begin to unbutton his shirt, revealing more and more of his chest. The fabric slides away, leaving his torso completely exposed. His skin is marked with scars that look old and by the soft pink lines left by the hickeys from earlier.
Around you, the crowd murmurs in approval, their eyes avidly scanning Jack's now-exposed body. You try to ignore them, focusing solely on the task in front of you. Next, you slide to the floor in front of him and reach for his belt, your fingers fumbling a bit as you handle the buckle. Finally, you pull his trousers down, leaving them bunched at his ankles. Jack steps out of them easily, left wearing only his underwear.
You can see the outline of his length pressing against the fabric.
Jack's breathing remains steady despite the situation, but you notice a slight twitch in his jaw muscle—the only sign that any of this affects him. His eyes remain locked onto yours, defiant and provocative even in that moment of vulnerability.
"Is that all you can do, Fortune?" His voice comes at a volume intended only for your ears. "I thought you wanted to make things worse for me."
One of his hands extends, his fingers brushing lightly against your arm in a false caress, almost a dare. "Come on... Don't get timid now."
You grit your teeth, fighting the urge to slap his hand away. The challenging tone in his voice ignites a spark of irritation inside you. How dare he act with such indifference, as if he weren't completely at your mercy?
In a swift motion, you hook your fingers into the waistband of his underwear and yank it down. Jack’s penis springs free, already semi-erect and flushed a deep pink. A collective gasp rises from the audience, followed by murmurs and whistles of excitement.
"There. Better?" Your voice drips with a clearly manufactured sweetness as you stand up.
Jack remains before you, now completely exposed and vulnerable. Yet somehow, that irritatingly smug smile remains plastered on his face.
"Of course. I wasn't expecting you to choose such a bold punishment in your final round."
Final... round?
"Don't tell me you didn't know?" Jack points to the pile of cards. Once high and imposing, there was now only a single card left on the table. "I should have guessed. After all, you seem to have a talent for keeping the audience entertained."
The mockery overflows from every word. He leans slightly forward, resting his elbows on the table as if perfectly at ease. "But you better start praying to win the next round." The next words ring loud in your ears, and you hope no one else caught them. "Because if you don't, I'm going to fuck you raw in front of everyone."
You force yourself to maintain a neutral expression and simply push the punishment box toward him.
"Ah, right... That." The disgust in his voice is evident. "There's always something to ruin the fun." He reaches into the box and pulls out a folded paper.
For a few seconds, he remains silent, reading the contents. Then, before he can say anything, the same staff member from before snatches the paper from his hand. Jack tries to retrieve it but freezes upon meeting the man's rigid gaze.
The staff member holds up the paper. "Have your opponent sign their own name across your chest."
"Huh? That's easy," you comment, looking around. "Can someone give me a pen?"
"Haven't you realized yet?" Jack says, running a hand through his hair impatiently. "I thought you were sharper than that."
"What?"
He tilts his head slightly, indicating the environment. When you actually look, you understand.
The tables that initially held focused gamblers were now a pure reflection of chaos. At one, people abandoned themselves to sloppy, violent sex; at another, bodies contorted under explicit torture with all kinds of blades and weapons. The stench of sweat, smoke, and blood hit your nose. Again. You suppressed a strong urge to vomit.
An elegant, sharp knife was extended toward you. Your trembling hands took it.
Sweet and Poison.
The epiphany hit you like a punch. Was it, then, pleasure and pain? Was that why Jack wasn't happy when you chose the "sweet" option... because the poison demanded blood.
"Come on, hurry up!"
"Mark him already!"
The crowd around was growing impatient, roaring for a show. You cast a hesitant glance at Jack, but he avoided looking at you. Instead, he pulled you firmly by the wrist, settling you onto his lap as if he were tired of waiting.
Alright, I just need to do this carefully...
You think while trying to steady your own wrist. You aimed the blade at his bare chest. The moment the tip touched his skin, exerting minimal pressure, something bizarre happened. As if sucked in by a magnetic force, the knife sank deeper than intended into Jack's flesh.
A strange phenomenon occurred in your mind. Instead of panicking, a wave of lightness and calm washed over your senses. The ambient noise vanished.
His groans of pain filled the room as you dragged the blade, tracing the letters of your name. Every red line made Jack's breathing quicken, his chest rising and falling beneath your hands. There was a twisted beauty to it.
Until the final line was traced. You stepped back slightly, analyzing your artwork carved into his skin.
And that's when your consciousness snaps back. What are you doing?! But looking at Jack's expression, his is... filled with lust? He even looks embarrassed, but he isn't trying to pull away.
Before you could process it, the staff member nudged you aside with a subtle touch, displaying the fresh, bloody art on the man's chest to the audience.
The reaction from the crowd was immediate. Murmurs swelled into a wave of twisted excitement. You could have sworn you heard some of them romanticizing the scene, as if the blood were a declaration of love in a place like this.
"Jack, are you okay?"
"Don't pretend you care," he shot back. His voice came out cold as he pressed his hand against the wound to staunch the blood. "I'll survive. And if you want to increase my chances of getting out of here alive, we better speed this game up."
Swallowing hard, you nodded. Your fingers reached for the deck and drew the final card. Without hesitating, you bluffed.
"Queen of Clubs."
Jack shook his head slowly, a gesture of almost disappointed disapproval.
"You know, Fortune... or rather... [Name]..." The last part came out in a whisper meant only for you, a snap that made your spine freeze. "Games like this don't just rely on luck. You need to know which cards have already been played and which ones are still in the deck."
It was true. But you hadn't anticipated his memory being so flawless. You had made sure to get him drunk precisely to have a safety margin in case you lost track of the count yourself...!
"It's a lie," Jack continued, holding your gaze. "That card was played earlier. Don't you remember?"
The worst part was that you genuinely didn't remember. Did that card even actually exist in the deck? The pack being used was hardly a complete set of 52.
Left with no choice, you flip the card over onto the table, exposing the bluff. He had won. "I just lost focus."
"It happens... Now, remember what I said?"
His warning about the punishment echoed in your mind. No.
You made a move to retreat, to stand up from your seat, but Jack’s reaction was faster. His fingers locked like handcuffs around your arm, pulling you back without the slightest effort and settling you with your back to him, pinning your body against his.
"Now this is the show everyone has been waiting for..." he announced to the room, his voice heavy with a wicked promise as his nimble fingers reached for your undergarment, merely shifting the fabric to the side.
"J-Jack, wait..." you pleaded, your heart hammering against your ribs.
He ignored the plea, bringing his length close to your exposed intimacy. His heat burned against your skin.
"Jack, stop!"
In your mind, the cry was desperate, but from your lips came only a hissed whisper. Still, it was enough. Jack froze instantly, stopping like clockwork that had suddenly jammed.
"I-I lied..." you confessed, tears flooding your eyes before you could stop them, your voice filled with genuine dread. "I’m actually a virgin. Please, don't do this..."
Jack’s eyes widened. For a brief second, his mask of mockery dropped entirely, giving way to genuine shock.
"Fuck... To be in a place like this, you really must have nothing left to lose," Jack muttered, his tone mixing a genuine scolding with a strangely protective irritation.
He settled his length against your backside, maintaining appearances for the watchful, hungry eyes of the crowd. "Well, we’ll just have to fool our audience, then. Do your best to fake it."
Without any warning, his hand slid down and touched your center directly. The shock of the intimate contact wrenched a genuine moan from your lips; your hands flew instinctively over his, gripping Jack’s fingers in a mix of surprise and pure desperation. The sound echoed across the table, drowned out by the noise of the crowd, which seemed to roar in approval at the sight of your bodies pressed together.
"That's it," Jack whispered right against your ear, his breath hot against your neck. "Keep going like that. They need to believe it."
His hand moved gently, an almost absurd contrast to the brutality of the surrounding environment. His long, firm fingers knew exactly the right pressure to apply, coaxing reactions from you that your own body hadn't known existed. Your nails dug into the back of his hand, trying to find an anchor point while the world seemed to spin.
At the same time, Jack dictated the visual rhythm of the charade. He gripped your waist with his other hand, delivering firm, rhythmic tugs, forcing his body to press against yours. The constant impact and friction created the perfect illusion of actual penetration for anyone watching from afar.
"Grab your punishment quickly so we can end this..." he commanded through gritted teeth, his eyes fixed on your blurred reflections on the polished surface of the table. "They want to hear your defeat, Fortune."
You closed your eyes, biting your lower lip. The tears from before still wet your cheeks, but now they mingled with the heat rushing up your spine. Forcing one of your trembling arms to stretch out, you fumbled inside the box and pulled out a folded paper. Barely able to focus your vision, you read the word written inside.
"C-Handcuffs...?"
The crowd went wild. Shouts, glasses slamming on tables, and raw laughter echoed through the degrading hall. Taking advantage of the fact that Jack kept you firmly pinned against him, the staff member from before approached quickly. Before you could even process it, the cold metal locked around your wrists, binding your hands in front of your body, and the man retreated into the shadows with the same agility.
Despite the flawless performance, you could feel the violent tension in Jack's body. He was as rigid as a violin string about to snap. His length, still pressed against your backside, throbbed. It was obvious that maintaining control while touching you like that, all while pretending to possess you, was taking a massive toll.
"You... are a terrible liar," Jack murmured, his voice suddenly rougher, almost cracking as his fingers found a sharper reaction from your body. He guided your handcuffed hands downward. "Use the cuffs to cover yourself better. Hide what they aren't allowed to see."
He nipped lightly at your earlobe—an act that looked like pure cruelty to the spectators, but served only to muffle the heavy sigh he released against your skin.
"Hah... I'm going to cum..." he whispered so convincingly that even you hesitated for a second.
Before the situation could spiral completely out of their control, the staff member stepped forward. He struck his metal cane against the floor, bursting the trance-like bubble you both were trapped in.
"And with that, the show concludes!" the man announced, leaning toward you with a proud bow.
The guests applauded enthusiastically.
Jack froze. Slowly, he withdrew his hand from your body, leaving a sudden sense of emptiness and a chill that made you shiver. He pulled your undergarment back into place with a quick, almost rough tug, giving you a slight nudge to stand up.
Your legs wobbled, and you had to rest your handcuffed hands on the table to keep from collapsing. When you turned around, Jack was already adjusting his clothes and buttoning his shirt, though the fabric was now stained with blood from his own chest, where your name shone in thin, red cuts. Without so much as a backward glance or a goodbye, he turned around and began to walk away, crossing the hall.
Before you could form any reaction to follow him, a female figure emerged at the large doorway. She was an elegant woman, radiating an expensive perfume that contrasted sharply with the ambient smell of sweat and blood. Her eyes gleamed with uncontainable satisfaction, and a wide, almost theatrical smile shaped her face.
"Mrs... Black?" The name escaped your lips in a whisper of immediate recognition. Without a doubt, that was your son's teacher—the one who had hypnotized you, the one who had helped you with your problems for months.
Without asking permission, Mrs. Black reached out and clasped your handcuffed hands. Her touch was firm but charged with a genuine euphoria. She squeezed your fingers with pride, looking at you as if she were staring at a gold mine.
"My dear, what a magnificent show!" she exclaimed, her velvety voice overflowing with ecstasy as she gestured slightly toward the audience still applaidering in the background. "Look at them! You gave them exactly what they wanted! Tonight's profits will break records, and all thanks to your... audacity. I am so proud, [Name]."
You forced the best smile you could muster to mask your shock, feeling the weight of her gaze. Knowing that every second counted if you wanted to catch up to Jack, you used the moment of intimacy to your advantage. With a complicit nod, you tilted your head slightly in the direction the man had vanished and winked at her, maintaining the facade that the "show" wasn't over between the two of you yet.
"Mrs. Black... I-I still have things to settle with Jack..."
Mrs. Black let out a low laugh, interpreting the gesture in the way that suited her best. "Please, call me Ace." She let go of your hands and made a discreet signal to the staff member and the guards, ordering them with a simple glance to let you pass. "I look forward to seeing you again."
You didn't answer, still perplexed to see such a familiar figure in a place like this. She stood out so much among the employees and clients... Like Jack, even more than him.
As you crossed the room and entered the same space Jack had, the heavy door shut behind you, instantly cutting off all the deafening noise from outside.
Silence collapsed over you. The room was considerably smaller than you expected. Far from looking like the office of someone of great importance or a luxurious room reserved for a prominent figure, the environment revealed itself to be just a simple break area. And right there in front of you was Jack.
You watched in silence as he stumbled across the room. Now that there was no loud crowd watching his every move, it was impossible to ignore his deplorable state.
Dark blood continued to ooze through the ragged tears in his clothes, forming dense little droplets that marked the wooden floor right behind his faltering steps. Even so, his pride seemed intact, as he acted as if the wounds were merely a minor, irrelevant nuisance.
Without even looking back or acknowledging your presence, he threw himself heavily onto one of the sofas and closed his eyes, exhausted.
"And what are you doing here?" Jack scoffed, his raspy voice breaking the silence. "Didn't feel satisfied enough using your filthy powers to humiliate me?"
"I just came to collect my prize."
A dry sound, like a laugh of pure derision, escaped his chest. "Did they let you choose your prize in your own privacy? Did they like you that much?"
You remained silent, holding his tired gaze with a serenity that seemed to irritate him even more.
"I can't believe they are so desperate to get rid of me that they’d look for someone of your kind to replace me," Jack said as he shifted positions on the couch, every word dripping with contempt.
"Someone of... my kind?"
The question echoed in your mind like a snap; it was exactly as you had suspected from the start. The people who run and frequent this place are definitely not ordinary humans.
"I should have guessed..." You crossed your arms, adopting a defensive posture as you processed the revelation. "My mother always warned me about demons, but you guys are more careful than I thought."
"You demons?" he repeated with disdain, as if tasting the irony of the words. "Spare me the act. There shouldn't be a single person here who hasn't realized by now."
You tilted your head slightly, completely lost. "Realized what?"
"What is it they call you people again..." He rubbed a hand over his face, clearly exhausted from the blood loss and the stress of the night. "Succubus...? Incubus...? Ace warned me about you. She probably only did it to justify firing me."
"First of all, if the reason you're treating me like this is because you think I want to steal your spot, you're wrong," you stated firmly, wanting to cut through that paranoia immediately.
"Then why are you here?"
"That's none of your business."
Jack rolled his eyes with boredom, resting his head against the back of the sofa.
"My prize is—" You paused briefly, straightening your spine and assuming an unshakeable posture to show you were in control. "I want to know what is going on in this place."
Now he actually opened his eyes, staring at you with a renewed intensity and a hint of surprise. "And what makes you think I'm going to tell you?"
"Because that is my prize." You took a bold step forward, closing the distance between you. "I imagine your superiors wouldn't like to see you disobeying the winner."
Jack held your gaze for a few long seconds, measuring your resolve, until he yielded to the pressure and let out a defeated sigh. "Fine. What do you want?"
"Just confirm one thing for me. Are you all demons?"
"Yes."
The answer came immediately, raw and without any hesitation, making the room feel even colder.
"Well... more or less. Now, what do you mean by 'you'?" Jack questioned, narrowing his eyes.
You reached out and pointed directly at his chest, where the torn fabric revealed the gravity of the damage. "You... even bleeding this much, you didn't die."
Jack followed the direction of your finger, looked at his own wound, and let out a small, humorless laugh, shaking his head. "That's exactly what I thought you were."
"What?"
"A human with a demon's blessing," he explained, his voice dropping to an almost confidential tone.
"A demon's blessing?"
He sank deeper into the couch, as if his bones weighed a ton. "The casino is a place of leisure for demons. They come here to get money in a fun way in the human world."
Your heart skipped a beat upon hearing that.
"Humans normally only serve to entertain the demons in the games. They do everything to win money, while the demons have fun watching their desperation. And sometimes, that desperation ends up leading to death," Jack explained without any hesitation, exposing the reality behind the lights and excitement that filled the place.
You felt your stomach churn violently at that grotesque reality.
"But those who manage to gain popularity..." He paused dramatically, his eyes fixed on yours. "They get hired."
"Hired?"
"Slowly tortured would be a better term. They get this blessing of immortality, and then they are trapped inside here forever—or rather, until they lose their popularity and face a fate worse than the humans who die in the games."
Your gaze wandered for a moment into the shadows of the ceiling as all the pieces of the puzzle finally fell into place in your mind. Everything made sense now... The bizarre behavior of the people, the sadism of the clients, the dense atmosphere, and the strangely heavy air that permeated the casino walls...
"God..." You passed a trembling hand over your face. "Why didn't I suspect this before?"
"Because the place was designed precisely for that." Jack closed his eyes again, his voice sounding almost like a belated warning. "When you walk in here, something changes."
"What?"
"You keep coming back. Regardless of whether you're losing or winning."
A frigid, violent shiver ran down your spine at that final realization. Because deep down, you knew he was absolutely right. Even being such a cautious person by nature and deeply hating gambling, you had never considered the most obvious option: simply turning your back and leaving.
Your gaze fell back onto his exposed wounds. No matter how irritating Jack proved to be, the amount of blood he was losing was still absurd and concerning. Spotting a metallic first-aid kit on a nearby table, you grabbed it and began to approach the sofa.
"I won't need that, you know why," he grumbled without opening his eyes, sensing your approach.
"You're leaking blood all over the couch," you retorted dryly. "And I want you to take my handcuffs off."
Without waiting for any kind of permission, you pulled a wooden chair close to him and sat down. Jack unlocked your hands with a key pulled from his pocket and then just watched the ceiling in silence as your nimble hands began to separate the gauze, the antiseptic, and some adhesive bandages. When you reached out to tend to one of the deeper cuts, he tensed his muscles, looking ready to protest.
"Quiet."
To your surprise, Jack shut his mouth immediately. His behavior changed almost strangely in the face of your firmness. The acidic arrogance he displayed vanished as quickly as it had appeared, giving way to a guarded vulnerability. "Filthy..."
You ignored the provocative comment and pressed the cotton soaked in antiseptic against his skin, starting to clean the first wound. In response to the touch of your hands, Jack seemed to lean subtly against your fingers, involuntarily seeking the contact.
"Are you enjoying this? I should suspect that all humans who come here are masochists."
"Don't call attention to me, you're embarrassing me..." he replied in a low voice, feeling his face warm up slightly from the physical proximity.
His disarming honesty caught you completely by surprise. The glimpse of that vulnerable side made you fall silent, even though a part of your brain insisted you should keep teasing him to keep your defenses up.
He let out a brief chuckle through his nose, a soft sound that relaxed your chest. "I don't know what you do, but your touch strangely makes me feel better... All my pain vanishes..."
You simply didn't know what to say to such a confession. The silence that settled in the room from then on was dense, but strangely it wasn't uncomfortable. For the first time since your paths had crossed in this damned place, Jack didn't seem to be trying to irritate you or test you. He was just tired, stripped of his defenses. When you finally finished cleaning and bandaging the first wound, you noticed that the rigidity in his shoulders had visibly decreased.
"And I am not a demon," you broke the silence, keeping your focus as you changed the gauze to start the next bandage. "Much less a lust demon."
Jack arched an eyebrow, staring closely at your face.
"I'm a human just like you," you reaffirmed.
"Liar. If that were true, you wouldn't have made me spare you, and you wouldn't be making me act so out of character," he accused, his narrowed eyes analyzing your expressions.
Your hands faltered, and you almost dropped the bottle of antiseptic on the coffee table. "I didn't do anything; it was probably because I made you drink too much."
"I have a high alcohol tolerance, do you think human tricks are a match for me? You definitely have something that fools what was made to fool humans," Jack countered, his voice convinced that there was something very different about you.
"I was out of character today too... You're just as observant as I am, you must notice the difference between the me of today and the day we played for the first time," you argued, trying to deflect suspicion and recalling your first confrontation.
"I don't know." He shrugged, though his gaze remained sharp. "Maybe you're just really good at acting."
Irritated by his stubbornness, you pressed the gauze against an open cut with a little more force than strictly necessary. Jack immediately winced in pain and muttered a few quiet curses before settling down and biting his lower lip.
"Good," you stated with a tone of finality, finishing the task of securing an improvised bandage around his chest with a tight knot. "Don't worry. I'm not here to steal your spot."
Jack remained silent, just watching the finish of the bandage.
"I just need enough money to sort something out," you confessed, putting the remaining supplies back into the kit.
"And after that?"
"And after that, you'll never see me again."
"And why do you think I'm going to help you?" he questioned, returning to that usual cynical posture.
You put the kit back in its place, rested your arms on your knees, and leaned toward him with a bold half-smile. "Well... Ace and I know each other, and she likes me a lot." You threw out the bluff with total confidence, holding his gaze in the hope that he would buy the lie. "It would be easy to convince her to replace you with someone—"
Jack narrowed his eyes immediately, and the mention of his boss's name made his gaze turn heavy and laden with genuine irritation. For a few seconds that seemed to last an eternity, the tension in the small room mounted. Jack stared deeply at you, looking for any sign of hesitation or weakness in your pupils, but something in your performance made him shift his stance. He took the bait, believing you truly possessed that influence.
Finally, he let out his breath through his lips in a long sigh of surrender. "...Fine."
You raised an eyebrow, feigning surprise at the ease of the victory. "What?"
"I'll help you," he finally yielded.
A small, victorious smile appeared on your lips, brightening your face for a brief instant. "Thank you very much."
"Don't misinterpret this. I'm only doing this to get rid of you," Jack growled, trying to salvage some of his dignity before standing up from the couch with movements that were still a bit stiff.
However, as he began to pass you to walk toward the exit, he stopped abruptly. His gaze descended and remained fixed on your figure for too long, analyzing the details with a sudden seriousness.
"What is it?" you asked, uncomfortable.
Jack frowned, his brow furrowing in pure confusion. "There's something strange."
"About me?"
"Yes." He continued to observe closely, his eyes squinted as if he were trying to see something invisible hovering around your body. "There's a very strong energy coming from you."
Instinctively, your fingers moved up to your pocket, touching the cold surface of the pendant hidden beneath your clothes. A flutter in your stomach warned you that he must, in some mystical way, be sensing the presence of the object. "I have no idea what you're talking about," you deflected quickly.
Jack clearly didn't believe your innocent facade. Then, realizing he wouldn't be able to wring that answer out of you right now, he simply shrugged and stretched his body.
"Forget it. Let's go," Jack said, already turning toward the wooden door. "I'll walk you to the exit." He paused for a moment before stepping through the door. A half-smile, almost enigmatic, returned to his face as he extended his arm to you.
"What a gentleman..." you commented, not even trying to hide the irony, as you accepted his arm. "Where was this behavior before?"
"I admit I was being... childish." His voice came out quieter now. "I'm sorry."
You watched his profile for a moment, still suspicious. "I don't understand why this job is so important to you..."
Jack didn't answer, and you didn't push as you both crossed the hall.
Hello to everyone who's made it this far!! And as you probably suspected, this isn't the end xD The story ended up muuuch longer than I expected. This first part alone ended up being nearly 18,000 words… I was worried about going too far over the limit, so I decided to stop here for now.
I don't know if I'll post the continuation, since it'll probably be much more story-focused (and I know that's not exactly what most people came here for, lmao). Either way, thank you all so much for reading <3
You knew making friends at a new school to be difficult, just not this difficult. After a week you finally get your first friend, but you also end up catching the eye of the school’s most popular girl. Making another friend would be great, but she doesn’t seem to take her eyes off you, and you just hope she doesn’t see you as an enemy…
Tw/Tags. Yandere, kidnapping, manipulation, forced masculinization, noncon touching/kissing, internalized transphobia/lesbophobia, possessiveness/obsession, abduction, mentions of cannibalism/attempted cannibalism (?), a little bit of dismemberment, murder, mild degradation, toxic relationship, emotional dependency, forced feeding, suggestive content. Please let me know if I missed any. Honestly, I really have no clue what I was thinking when I wrote some parts.
Word Count: 25k
Manga Character: Kokoa Yoshizaki from Killer in Lover
You were walking through the school’s hallways, looking for a quiet place to eat lunch.
But a soft cry echoing through the silent room catches your attention. You follow the sound without making a sound, not wanting to startle whoever it was. The sobs seem to be coming from under the stairs. When you peek behind the wall, you meet a girl.
She's sitting in the darkness. Her arms are crossed over her knees as she cries and mumbles phrases you can't understand, not until you get closer to her.
"My prince…" Mourning whimpers escape her lips, muffled by her curled-up position. "When will I finally find you, my prince..?"
You decide to walk until you're in front of her, but you don't know what to say.
The girl senses your presence and lifts up her head with wide eyes. She certainly wasn't expecting anyone to find her in the middle of crying.
This impulses you to say something to her. "Oh, I-I…"
What the heck should you say?!
"A-A pretty girl like you shouldn't be sitting here alone…" You extend your hand to her. "I brought too much food today. Wanna share?"
You desperately need to improve your social skills. How do you comfort someone like this, [Name]?
The tip of your pencil snaps under the pressure you force onto the page. Your mind has been arguing with you since yesterday, and maybe that's why your mood is so heavy today. It had been the perfect chance to make a friend, and you know you should've handled things better.
You try to push the thought aside while you organize your desk before the girl arrives. Maybe you're overthinking. She even had lunch with you, and all you did was try to help.
Your inner debate only stops when a loud group of girls walks into the classroom. At their center is exactly the person you've been hoping to see. All of them seem desperate for her attention, and the rest of the class watches her every move.
You bite your lip, uneasy. The idea of approaching her with so many eyes on you makes your stomach twist. Your hesitation lasts just long enough for the teacher to step inside the room.
Another missed opportunity…
It's been a week since you arrived at this school, and, yet, you still haven't made a single friend. In your class, everyone seems to already be part of a friend group, so it’ll be hard for you to fit in, or fit in without being left out. You thought someone would eventually come up to you and bring salvation to your loneliness, but since then, you haven't spoken to anyone other than the teachers.
You hope you'll have better luck during recess again, but there’s very little hope remaining in your heart
Throughout class, you thought about the best tactics you could use to approach someone. You know you need to focus on your studies, but you're too desperate for a friend. If you don't seek after one, you'll be alone for the rest of the year!
Recess is a rush hour as always. If you're not quick enough to get your lunch, you might end up without a table to sit on, and even food if you’re unlucky. And, worst case scenario, you'll have to squeeze into a random table. Of course, you’d never want to go through that at all, but...
You're late.
Your lunchbox is in your shaky hands as you look around the cafeteria anxiously. Every table seems to have at least one person. These solo people are probably saving tables for their friends, so for someone as lonely as you, that's impossible.
At least this opened another opportunity for you when you eyes suddenly met the girl from yesterday, sitting at a table alone, fiddling with her phone. Your legs are still shaking from anxiety as you walk across the whole cafeteria to get to her...
Your mother's voice telling you to face your shyness echoes in the back of your mind with every step you take. Her friend group seems to be grabbing their meals, which influences you to quicken your already fast enough pace. The feeling of everyone watching you makes you want to stop walking so awkwardly, but you try to swallow that insecurity down your throat.
The walk to the table seemed long for a moment, but soon you arrived, exceeding your expectations. The girl senses your presence just like yesterday and turns to you. Her gaze was questioning for a moment before she suddenly smiled appropriately at you.
"Hi!" She puts down her phone and rests her arms on the back of her chair. "You're new here, right? Do you need help?"
Yes! You need help making friends! You wished you could say that to her without looking like a pathetic, abandoned wet dog
"Uhhh that's not quite it..." You fiddle with the handle of your lunchbox. "I just..."
I want to sit with you. Your mind begged to scream your thoughts again. Wouldn't that be too invasive? She's with her friends! But if you did sit with them… you’d feel like you'd made great progress.
"I wanted to see if you're okay from yesterday!" You gather your courage to look at her eyes. "You seemed really upset yesterday, so I wanted to know if you're feeling better…"
The girl's eyes widened. She wasn’t expecting that to be what you were going to say to her.
"I don't know what you're talking about," She responds immediately, turning her posture back to the table. "Could you please leave now? That seat is already reserved for someone else."
You open your mouth to tell her about yesterday, but you stop when she goes back to her phone immediately before you can do so. Feeling like a failure, you leave the table with your head down. What were you expecting? Snooping around in her life like that? Congratulations, [Name]. Now you'll have to find a hidden spot in the school again to eat lunch aga-
"Hey, girl!"
A voice booms behind you, and you consider turning around. But whoever it is, they probably aren't referring to you. That's what you thought until a hand grabs your shoulder and spins you around.
"Don't ignore me!" The random girl speaks when she's in front of you. "I refuse to spend recess alone just because he prefers to be with those sluts!" Both of her hands are now on your shoulders, where she rests them to tilt her face up to yours. "You need to sit with me!"
Your brain takes a second to process the words rushing out. You have no idea what she's talking about, but you nod anyway. "Sure! Where are we..."
"Here, I already have a table for us." She interrupts you, grabbing your hand and dragging you across the cafeteria. Letting go, she sits down and stares at the table in front of her. "Look how she's grabbing his arm! How bold of her!"
You sit next to her and look in her direction. Where you planned to sit, sits a boy. He's surrounded by girls. On the left, one has her head resting on his shoulder, while on the right, another girl, the one you were just trying to talk to, has her arms wrapped around his. The one on the left doesn't last long, because the one on the right waves her hand at her to get away from him.
"She doesn't even want to share him..." The girl next to you mutters angrily, drumming her fingers on the table. "That's why I don't make friends with anyone in this damn school."
It's probably just a love rivalry. A girl angry for love can be dangerous, better calm her down before her anger turns to you.
"Don't worry so much, I'm sure he likes you too." You hesitantly place your hand on her shoulder, hoping she won't mind the physical touch. "She seems popular... She definitely has a boyfriend already."
"As if." Your hand is removed from her shoulder, but she doesn't let go. "I don't want to talk about this anymore. Let's talk about you." She brings your hand to her face. "Your nails are pretty, why don't you paint them?" Her hands are slightly larger and warmer, enveloping yours easily, and despite the gentle touch, her skin has a slight roughness you didn't expect.
The change of subject takes you by surprise, but you try to follow along.
"I don't have much time off from school, so I don't get to practice many feminine habits..." You admit as you open your lunchbox with your other hand.
"[Name]..." She repeats your name, which is written on the label of your lunchbox. "Now that I read it properly, it doesn't sound like a stuck-up name like I thought."
With both hands free, you remove the containers from it. "Did you already know me?"
If that's the case, why didn't she come talk to you?! If you had seen her, you would definitely have gone to talk to her. But no, this is the first time you've seen her.
"Know is a strong word." The girl leans in to examine the containers of food you brought. "I arrived at this school yesterday and saw you walking with THAT girl. I didn't have a good impression of you because I thought you were just another girl trying to fit in with the popular crowd, or worse, that you were just another deluded girl who wanted your love!"
That girl... She must be referring to the one you've been trying to talk to this whole time.
"Why do you dislike her? She seems nice..." You pause to take a bite of your food. "Is it because she likes the same boy as you?"
"What?! No, no!" She denies it, waving her hands as if to dismiss the idea. "He's my brother! I just want to protect him! It's because she's a horrible, cruel, and prejudiced person!"
"I-I didn't realize… I'm so sorry." You look at the table in front of you again. You still can't see his face clearly with his back turned to you, but his hair color matches his sister's. They probably look alike.
"How can you already know that? N-Not that I doubt you, of course... But you arrived yesterday."
The girl moves closer to you, lowering her voice. "Gossiping, girl! Gossiping! How have you been here longer than me and still don't know anything?" She discreetly points to the table again. "The girl you were with yesterday, in this case the one hugging my brother's arm, is named Elisa. As you've probably noticed, she's the most popular girl in school! Lots of girls want her attention, and lots of boys want to date her, and girls too! That's the problem!"
As she explains, she seems to raise her voice to exaggerate certain parts.
"But what's wrong with girls liking her?" You whisper back. "If she's popular, it makes sense that she'd attract a lot of people."
"The problem isn’t that you like her, though it does mean you have terrible taste." She points to a girl across the table. "See that one over there? She used to like Elisa and even confessed to her. You know what Elisa did?" You don’t answer quickly enough to stop her. "She judged her and humiliated her! That girl is only still in her group because, from what I’ve heard, she took advantage of her feelings and turned her into a servant!”
"H-How cruel..." You don't have much to say. When you found Elisa crying yesterday, she didn't seem like that kind of person. "I understand now why you don't like her."
"See? And people know that, but they forgive her just because she's pretty!" Her voice almost rises, but she stops herself before it does. "That's why I had a bad impression of you! And there's also…”
The girl continued talking, or rather, gossiping with you until the end of lunch. You spent so much time talking that you forgot about your food.
"I'll have to finish later." You put your food back in your lunchbox. "Won't you be hungry? I didn't see you eating anything."
She stands up and packs her things. "Don't worry about me, I was eating your fruit when you weren't looking. It was delicious, thanks!”
You realize the bowl you're holding is empty and sigh. This was supposed to be your afternoon coffee.
"I'm going to go save my brother." She walks away, waving goodbye to you. "We'll probably see each other later, wait for me before you go back to your dorm!" But before she gets too far, you manage to catch her hand, or rather, just her fingertips.
"Hmm? What's wrong?"
"You... didn't tell me your name."
Your gaze drops to your hand holding her fingers. You don't know why you're so nervous, it's just a simple question. If you're going to be friends, it's okay to ask this, right?
Her hand slips into yours and squeezes in greeting. "It's Mei! It's a short and easy name, so don't forget it." She smiles at you before letting go of your hand and walking away toward the table.
Before you leave the cafeteria, you look back and see the girl you now know as Mei, trying to pull her brother out of his chair with all the insistence in the world. Her voice rises high enough for you to hear her, but not enough to understand what she's saying.
Mei is definitely chaotic, but you're glad you made a friend.
The rest of your day was uneventful. Now that a weight had been lifted off your shoulders, you were able to concentrate better in your classes. Mei was in some of them, and even though she sat far from you, she always rolled a balled-up note under the desks toward yours.
Some of the notes were just harmless comments, things you read and couldn’t help but smile at.
“I’m telling my brother about you!! He likes you!! :D”
“This class is sooooo boring T-T”
“Can I go to your dorm today? I still haven’t forgiven my brother for abandoning me.”
While others were more insistent that you answer her last note.
“Don’t ignore meeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee”
“It’s still the beginning of the year, you don’t need to worry so much about homework”
“Are you still mad that I ate your fruits? TALK TO ME.”
And there was always a little drawing of an angry or sad face.
When you turned around, depending on her last note, she would make a different expression. Sometimes she smiled, sometimes she snorted, sometimes she waved... Each time it was a different expression.
In gym class, it was no different. Unfortunately, as always, you couldn’t participate and had to sit on the bench watching. But unlike usual, you didn’t get bored, you kept fiddling with your phone. Whenever Mei passed by, she’d make faces at you or gesture dramatically, sometimes even lifting her brother’s hand to make him wave back. It was enough to make you forget that familiar feeling of exclusion.
The class was lively, and Elisa was there too. Her physical abilities were impressive, and during some activities you could not help but admire her, just like your classmates did. Every time Mei noticed where you were looking, she gave you a disapproving glance, and you always replied with an apologetic gesture. After all, there was no excuse for it. Mei's uniform was a little different and looser than the other girls' uniforms, so it was impossible to lose sight of her in a crowd.
The front of the school was empty. Everyone was in the locker room changing while you leaned against the gate, trying to find a nearby market on the GPS. This was one of the problems you had started dealing with since gaining your independence, having to figure out the city on your own, most of the time with very little time to spare.
This is the downside of moving so often.
You hear footsteps, but you ignore them until you hear something fall. A student has dropped her water bottle. The noise should have been enough to alert her, but she just keeps walking. A cord runs from her phone straight to her head, so she must be wearing headphones.
Before the bottle can roll away, you pick it up and bring it to the girl. To get her attention, you tap her shoulder lightly. "S-Sorry to bother you, but you dropped your bottle."
The figure turns to you, taking off one of her headphones. You had not realized it was none other than Elisa you were talking to.
"I didn't even notice, thank you…" She cuts herself off, probably because she recognizes you as well. "...Is it you again?" The polite smile on her face fades, replaced by a harder expression. "Do you think I haven't noticed what you're doing?”
The bottle is snatched from your hand, her cold voice making you take a step back. What is she even talking about?
"Stalking me and watching me from afar is not only creepy, but also disgusting." Elisa points an accusatory finger at your chest. "Do you think you are going to get my attention like that?"
Your eyes start to water. Did she really think that was what you had been trying to do all this time?
Don't cry, [Name]. Defend yourself!
"N-No...! That is not it, I swear!" You press your backpack against your chest as if it could protect you. "I am sorry if I offended you before, it was never my intention. I just... I just wanted..." With each word that leaves her lips, her expression grows angrier, and your voice trembles more and more until it dies in your throat.
"Don't play innocent with me." Her face moves closer to yours. You try to pull away, but she grabs the top strap of your backpack to stop you. "If I see you near me one more time, I will kick your ass. Are we clear?"
Your head nods before you can even process what she is saying.
"Good."
And just like that, she is gone.
Your hands go to your face immediately, trying to wipe everything away as quickly as possible. Even when her figure is already far in the distance, your heart keeps racing. If she spreads the word around the school that you are some kind of stalker, your reputation will be ruined!
"I told you she was cruel."
A familiar voice speaks behind you. You had not even noticed the footsteps approaching.
"Is that the first thing you are going to say to her? That's not very nice of you, Mei."
Her brother is there too, scolding her before turning his attention to you. "Are you okay? Your eyes are red.”
Mei huffs beside him. "It's obvious she was crying, idiot!” She walks over and places a hand on your back, stroking it softly. "We saw what happened from afar. I did not think what she did would make you cry, that is why I did not step in, but wow, you are so sensitive! I doubt she said anything that mean.”
"I told you we should have done something.” He says as he approaches you. "How can you call someone you treat like that a friend?"
The hand on your back is removed, and you can feel anger radiating from the girl beside you. You cut in before the argument can go any further.
"It's okay, I am not upset." You reassure them quickly before changing the subject. "You are her brother, right? It is nice to meet you, I'm [Name]." You extend your hand toward him, and he looks at it with surprise before taking it.
"Like Mei said, you are definitely not from around here." His lips curve into a polite smile, and he shakes your hand before letting go. "I am not used to that kind of greeting. You can call me Matteo."
"Actually, call him Matt! He will love it."
His sister joins in, looping her arm around his. "Enough introductions, we have to go to the market soon. I want to get back to my room as soon as possible!"
You adjust your backpack, preparing to leave. "I did not know you were going somewhere. Sorry for taking your time."
"What are you talking about?" Mei hooks her other arm through yours and starts walking. "You are coming with us.”
You don't move right away and look at Matteo, waiting for an answer to your silent question.
"Sorry, it was my idea." He smiles, a little embarrassed. "I saw she gave you a hard time at lunch, so I thought I would make it up to you by buying you the food she took from you.”
The girl between you lets out a huff before pulling his arm harder, forcing him forward.
"This wouldn't have happened if you hadn't abandoned me!" She turns to you, her demeanor suddenly softer. "See? That's why I wanna go to your dorm today! I don't wanna be near him.”
Matteo pulls her away from you.
"What's with all this closeness? You met her this afternoon."
"She's already better than you for not leaving me alone." Mei refuses to be dragged away and pushes her brother aside, giving you all some space again. "Look at her! She doesn't look like any kind of kidnapper. I'll be fine!”
"It's not you I'm worried about..."
You hold back a laugh as you watch the two of them. Matteo seems like a calm person, maybe he is, but when he is with his sister, they become a chaotic duo. With them, you do not have to worry about getting lost, or even being alone.
Distracted, you do not notice the group watching you from afar.
"Pick me," one of the girls mutters, and the others murmur in agreement. "Did he really dump you because of her?”
Elisa is quiet compared to the others, her fists clenched and her arms crossed.
Another girl approaches and whispers in her ear. "She didn't seem interested in him before. Don't you think she is trying to compete with you after what you did to her?"
"She's trying to mess with you!”
"What kind of girl steals other people's men? Ely, you need to do something!"
"Don't let her get away with this!’
The comments echo in her ears, but they no longer have any effect on her. These girls always want to cause chaos, trying to make her lose her temper and tarnish her reputation because of boys. Their jealousy is obvious, but Elisa is used to it. They are no longer a threat to her.
And neither are you. Elisa will not lose her prince.
"He's only with her because his sister is with her.” She retorts, turning to the girls. "And this new girl must be lonely. She cannot have bad intentions.”
The group exchanges glances and murmurs among themselves, giving each other questioning looks. Elisa only smiles in response.
They know that's not true.
And so does she.
The streets are empty on the way back to the dorm.
Your shopping bag is heavy, and because of that, you end up stopping more often than you want to. Your friends had insisted on coming with you, just like always, but you refused. You know they noticed something’s off.
Still, you’re not ready to tell them yet, no matter how much Mei tried to push. And honestly, with the way you’re feeling now, you kind of wish you’d accepted their help. Your anxiety always gets worse when you sit down, because it feels like you’re waiting for THEM to show up.
You stand back up as soon as your body feels rested, picking up your pace while you discreetly glance over your shoulder, trying to spot the figure that’s been following you these past few days. You had noticed it before, but you tried to convince yourself it was just your imagination.
The sight of the dormitory entrance makes you walk faster, but the strength in your legs feels drained from every part of your body. Your arm gives out for a moment, and the bag of vegetables slips from your hand. A frustrated sigh leaves your lips as you bend down to gather everything again, your eyes filling for maybe the tenth time today. You’ve always been sensitive, but lately it feels like you’re getting worse with every passing day.
But they stop when you see someone bend down to help.
"Are you crying just because of that?" Elisa picks up one of the vegetables from the ground and drops it back into the bag. "It's fine if they spoil. You can just buy more, can't you?"
That’s not why you’re crying, but you decide not to comment.
She’s much faster than you, and in less than a minute, everything that had scattered is back where it belongs.
"Sorry, I didn’t know anyone was around..." You take the bag from her hand and check the vegetables. "Unfortunately, I can't eat most of this anymore, but thank you."
You’re about to take the bag to the trash when she stops you. "Are you seriously throwing this away? Give it to me!” She snatches the bag from your hand and inspects the fruit herself.
You frown. She’s not going to eat this, is she?
"Elisa, it fell on a public street... I really don't think it's edible anymore."
"Obviously I'm not going to eat this!" She slings the bag over her shoulder. "I'll throw it in the organic garbage, where it belongs.”
"I-I didn't think of that..." You admit, embarrassed. Of course she wouldn't do that. "Thank you again, I'm going back to my dorm now." Your eyes instinctively dart to the street, and the chill running down your spine makes you step back. "D-Don't stay out here too long, it's dangerous when it's getting dark.”
The confusion on her face is clear. "What's wrong? You've been tense ever since I saw you running." She walks over to you, following your gaze. "Did you see something?”
"Yeah, you can probably already imagine what it is..." You mumble with a sigh. "I'll never get used to this... Let's go in."
"...What are you talking about?" The gate unlocks with your face and closes automatically after she steps in behind you.
"You really don't know?" You ask, surprised. "Where you lived must’ve been really safe, because I couldn’t feel this calm even if I was walking around with ten bodyguards."
Elisa doesn't answer. You take that as her not understanding, so you explain.
"It's very common for people like us to almost get kidnapped all the time, especially in schools." You show her the pepper spray hidden in a secret compartment of your uniform. "My parents never trusted me without something for defense, so I always have to carry something like this.”
You don't hear a response from her yet. The only thing that changes is her expression, one eyebrow lifting slightly. That doesn't make you feel any better. Why does she seem to have no understanding of anything you're saying?
"I-If you've never been through this, you must have really good security." You try to shift the subject toward her, hoping to please her.
Elisa walks ahead of you, leading the tour. "Yeah, of course, but even then, they still don't come close to yours.”
You stop in your tracks, confused. "What do you mean by that?"
"I mean, you're [Name] [Last Name], the daughter of one of the greatest fashion designers in the world!" She tugs lightly at the sleeve of her uniform, as if the gesture makes her point stronger. "And your father? A renowned physiologist responsible for training athletes who are now internationally recognized." Before you know it, her face is dangerously close to yours, forcing you to drop your gaze to the ground. "I'm sure your bodyguards are on another level.”
Even you can hear the mockery in her voice. So she was only being nice because she recognized you... You should've suspected it.
"I-I understand... I didn’t think anyone would recognize me." No matter how hard you try, it's impossible to hide your sadness. "I know you don't like me, Elisa. I wouldn't want you to force yourself to be nice to me just because of my parents.”
"Everyone knows who you are, they just don't feel comfortable approaching you." Ignoring your last comment entirely, Elisa grabs your wrist and starts pulling you in the opposite direction of the dormitory.
"W-Wait...!" You try to protest, but the air rushes from your lungs with the sudden movement, making your hand press against your chest. "Where are we going?!"
She drags you to the back of the school, and when she lets you go, you immediately lean against the wall, breathing heavily. "D-Don't do that again... That hurts me..." you say between shallow breaths, trying to compose yourself.
She doesn't answer right away, but you feel her gaze burning into you.
"Aren't you ashamed of your father?" she blurts, crossing her arms dismissively. "If I had a lazy daughter like you, I'd be so sad."
"It's not laziness!" You try to defend yourself, but your voice cracks. The girl before you falls silent, as if giving you time to justify yourself. "It's because I really can't do it..."
"Excuses, excuses, excuses..." You're interrupted by her murmurs. "You have no one to protect you outside of school. How do you expect to defend yourself if you don't even have the breath to run from a harasser?"
Such harsh words... It's the first time you've heard them spoken directly to you. They hurt, but they hurt less than the pitying words you receive from doctors, and they hurt much less than the sad looks your parents always give you. Still, you can't.
"I'm sorry... It's way beyond what I can handle."
"So when you finish school, are you going to go back the same way you started? Are you going to keep letting people talk about you behind your back?"
No sound escapes your lips, which pushes her to go on.
"If you don't practice, you'll never change. Won't you try, even just a little?" She extends her hand again, making you look up. "If we start slowly, I'm sure you'll make progress eventually."
You still don't believe it's possible, but...
What she said earlier lingers in your mind. Does your father really feel this way about you?
"I don't want your tears." The hand in front of you shakes insistently. "I want your answer."
You pull a small handkerchief from your pocket and wipe your eyes, then reach your own hand out to meet hers. "I think I can try."
She squeezes it tightly before letting go. "There's a perfect room for that." Then she takes a key from her bag and uses it to open the back door of the school.
"How do you have one of the school keys?" Are you even allowed to do this...?
"You worry too much about the smallest details."
When the door unlocks, Elisa steps inside and turns on her phone's flashlight. "It's really dark, so stay close to me. We shouldn't be too far."
You nod and begin to follow her. Even though you know there's nothing wrong, your skin crawls, but you try to hide it. You're not a child anymore, [Name].
But the girl in front of you isn't hiding it very well; her fingers tremble around the phone she's holding, and her other hand is balled into a fist. You quicken your pace, choosing to walk beside her instead of behind.
"Are you afraid of the dark?" Your voice is barely above a whisper, as if you're trying not to startle a scared kitten. "You can hold my hand if you want." You rest your fingertips on her wrist, trying to show her you're here with her.
"Huh?" She doesn't pull away, but she looks at you strangely. "That's the first time I've heard that excuse for holding my hand." Her gaze shifts forward, as if she can't bring herself to look at you. "And I'm not scared, it's just the cold, that's all!"
You're confused. "W-What? It's not an excuse... My mom always did that when I was scared." Your voice shakes; this wasn't the reaction you expected. "Do you want me to lend you my coat? I have a spare in my bag."
Elisa's body seems to freeze for a moment when you place the coat on her shoulders, but she quickly relaxes. You keep walking quietly until she breaks the silence.
"Are you out of breath already? I’ve only just started getting tired." She frowns, as if the sound irritates her. Then she quickly grabs your hand, pulling you closer. "Stay by my side. The way you are, you look like you're going to faint."
In truth, you've been out of breath for a while now, but you didn't want to bother her, especially in a place where she seems nervous herself.
When your legs threaten to give out, Elisa stops abruptly.
"We're here." She quickly opens the door and turns on the light. "The gym is the best place for this." Noticing that you didn't follow her immediately, she peeks out and finds you panting against the wall. "Ha, it's good to see you're already trying hard. Be careful not to collapse on the floor."
...She didn't do that on purpose, did she?
"Come on, let's get started." Without giving you time to rest, she pulls you into the room. "See that mat? That's where you'll start. Sit there!"
You obey without hesitation, taking the opportunity to rest your muscles. The room is large, with various pieces of equipment scattered everywhere, from the lightest to the heaviest. Elisa seems to examine each object carefully, and her smile only grows with every second. It makes you uneasy, though you aren't sure why.
"We can start light." She picks up three books from a shelf. "Get into the doggy position."
The sentence takes you by surprise. For a moment, you just stare at her in disbelief. "...What?"
"You heard me." Her smile widens, and she hugs the books to her chest. "Come on, you want to improve, don't you?"
"I-I think you meant the all-fours position..." You correct her, swallowing hard. The way she said it doesn't sit well with you at all. Your muscles haven't fully recovered yet, but with the help of the mat, it might not be too difficult. You place your knees down first, then slowly try to position your hands. Despite the effort, you manage to hold the posture.
"Is this okay?"
Instead of responding verbally, she suddenly places the books on your back, making your position collapse immediately. The strength in your arms disappears, and your chin hits the mat. You don't need to look up to know Elisa is stifling a laugh.
"I prefer to call it the doggy position," she says as she removes the books from your back. When you don't move, she calls for your attention. "We're just getting started. Get up!"
You take a deep breath and try to lift yourself again. "P-Please warn me before you put anything on me..." But Elisa is already too far away to hear, scanning the room for more ideas.
...You can sense the next few minutes will be long.
And you were right.
Elisa made you stay in the same position while placing objects on your back, watching to see how long you could hold on. It seemed like the more you struggled, the more she searched for heavier items, and the more her amusement grew. In the end, your whole body ached, and you lay back on the mat, breathing heavily.
You thought you could last longer, but no. Your body remained the same as always.
"Now, it's time for the final challenge."
Your head falls to the side to meet her excited gaze. "I thought we were done."
"I was just letting you rest." She places her hands behind her back, leaning toward your lying form. "Come on, you've been doing so well so far!”
Despite her irony, you obey her one last time. Even though things didn’t go the way you expected, you're happy she's having fun.
How long has it been since you did something that brought someone joy instead of sadness?
"What will it be this time?" You look around, but don't see any object set aside for this. "There's nothing here.”
The last thing you see is her adjusting her skirt before placing all her weight on you. Your body almost gives out. Almost. Because the moment she realizes you're about to collapse, she lifts some of her weight. Still, the pressure is intense, and you feel like you could fall at any moment. What keeps you steady now is the desire not to let her get hurt.
And also not to hurt yourself.
"I-I can't support a human weight, please get off! Get off!"
She lifts a little more of her weight, and a soft laugh echoes through the room. "Use your elbows. I don't want to accidentally break your arms."
You comply immediately. It feels a little better, but it still doesn't seem like you'll last long.
"I can feel you trembling beneath me." She crosses her legs and rests her hands lightly on your back. "Don't tell me you can't handle a girl like me? That hurts, you know?”
"No, I didn't mean that!" Your arms give out in despair, your back starting to ache more than usual, the mat beneath you no longer as comfortable as before. "P-Please, get up..."
Her gaze weighs on you, burning silently. From your peripheral vision, you realize it's no ordinary look. It's cold, as if she's judging you without saying a single word. You don't like it.
"Oh, I know..." Elisa examines her nails absentmindedly. "People like you are used to being above everyone else, right?" Her other hand slides to your neck, gently guiding you to face her. "How does it feel, knowing that this is nothing but arrogance?”
Your eyes fill with tears, your strength about to give out. Elisa seems to sense it and steps off you just as your body collapses for the last time onto the mat.
What was she saying?
"And our exercises end here." The sweetness returns to her voice, and you almost think you imagined that coldness from before. "If we do this every day, I'm sure your body will be firm and strong in a few weeks." She gives you one last smile before disappearing down the hallway.
Although your back is worse and your whole body aches, you feel completely exhausted, as if you could fall asleep right there. Of course, you can't do that if you want to avoid problems.
Would Mei mind coming to help you? You don't like the idea of bothering her because you're tired, but...
Your gaze falls on your bag, probably placed on the table by Elisa. With effort, you slowly get up. Even after so much rest, your body still feels like you've just run a marathon. When you finally reach the table, you grab your phone.
There are several messages from Mei and multiple missed alarms to eat... So that's why you feel so sick; you should have eaten!
But how strange... You never put your phone on silent.
You don't have time to think about it anymore because you're interrupted by another call from Mei. Judging by her call history, she seems to have been calling for quite a while.
"Where are you?! I've been knocking on your door for hours! Did you faint somewhere?! Did you fall, did you hurt yourself!?"
Mei starts talking nonstop the moment you pick up. You don't dare interrupt her and wait patiently for her to finish.
"No, but seriously, did something happen on the way back from the market? Did someone attack you!?"
"No, no. I ran into Elisa on the way, so I stopped to stay with her for a while."
The other line goes silent. Mei has always been a sweetheart to you, but she can be a little scary when she gets angry.
"Your voice sounds weird..." Her reaction is calmer than you expect, but only for a moment. "What did she do to you?! Where are you?! I'm waking Matt and making him carry you to your dorm, and I'm going to deal with that woman myself!"
Before you can say anything else, she hangs up. Impulsive as always.
[You]
"I'm in the gym, come in through the back door."
She sees it immediately, but doesn't respond. It shouldn't take long before she arrives. You flop down on the mat, sleep creeping back in as you yawn. Is this how normal people feel after a full day of exertion? It hurts, sure... but you feel satisfied. So this is what it's like to live a long, productive day.
You know you can't risk repeating it any time soon, but you're glad you had this experience. You'll have to thank Elisa later.
Every action has a consequence.
And you are dealing with one now.
"I'm sorry, but I'll need to notify your parents." The nurse speaks while examining the bruises on your back. "Your body is strained and your blood sugar is low. Are you eating properly?"
You finish chewing the piece of fruit before answering. "S-Sorry, I lost my phone yesterday and hurt myself while looking for it..."
She nods, clearly unconvinced, but you cannot tell her the truth.
"I suggest you return to your dorm." She lowers your uniform after applying ointment to your muscles. "Your body needs rest. If you keep pushing yourself like this, you will end up seriously ill." She takes a few more ointments from a drawer, places them in a box, and hands it to you. "Here. I hope everything goes well."
She escorts you to the door and lets you go. You sigh as you look at the ointments, realizing this is the price you have to pay now.
"Oh my God, [Name]!"
Suddenly, strong arms wrap around you. The pressure on your sore muscles almost makes you whimper, but she, Mei, does not let go. She does not even seem to notice.
"I was so worried!" She rubs her cheek against yours, as if needing proof that you are really here. "Do not ever do that again! What if you had fallen into a coma!?"
"M-Mei, I appreciate your concern, but..."
Her brother approaches quietly and steps between you. "You are hurting her. Give her some space." He gently pulls her away.
"Okay, okay, sorry..." Mei looks down, guilty, and crosses her arms. "I knew that woman was trying to kill you. I warned you!"
"Not now, Mei..."
"Am I wrong?" She glares at Matteo and then grabs your hand. "It is lunchtime, and you need to eat!" But before she can drag you along, you grab her wrist.
"Wait, I..." Your voice trails off for a moment. You swallow hard, rethinking your words before continuing. "I need to talk to you two. But... in private."
Mei and Matteo exchange a quick glance. They say nothing, only nod and follow you into an empty classroom. You stand in the center of the room while Mei sits casually on the edge of a table and Matteo leans back in a chair. Neither of them speaks. They wait, giving you space.
"You both noticed something is wrong with me..." You finally say, choosing your words carefully.
"Yep.” Mei answers, tilting her head. "I admit I used to think it was just laziness, but..." She looks over your body before continuing. "You going to the infirmary almost every day, getting special meals, needing to eat in such short intervals..."
Matteo nods. "Not that we mind, but we've had to carry you more than once even for short walks. I think we deserve to know what's going on."
You lower your head, shame burning in your chest. "I-I know..." Your voice comes out soft, almost fading. "Sorry for causing trouble. And thank you for always helping me." You take a deep breath, forcing yourself to continue. "My body is… naturally weak. I was born with a chronic condition that's made everything difficult my whole life."
You walk to the window, looking out over the courtyard. Students stand in small groups outside. Some laugh loudly, some rest on benches, others snack under the shade of a tree. The scene eases something inside you. "It was worse when I was younger. I used to watch other kids play from indoors. I always had to stay inside because my parents were scared something would happen to me."
When you turn back, they are already beside you. Mei rests her head lightly on your shoulder and Matteo slides a hand down your arm, offering steady reassurance.
"Of course, hard doesn't mean bad..." You relax into their presence. "My parents loved me a lot, even if they were overprotective. If they hadn't taken care of me the way they did, I probably wouldn't have made it this far." Your eyes soften with genuine gratitude. "And without you two, I might not even be studying here. I'm thankful for everything you've done."
Matteo opens his mouth to speak, but Mei pulls you into another hug before he can. This time it's gentle, as if you're something precious in her arms. "W-Why didn't you tell us sooner?! I would have been more careful with you, I would have helped more, I-I would have..."
She stops, trying to hold back her tears, when she feels your fingers gently sliding through her hair. You need to calm her before her crying becomes your own. "Don't worry. You and Matt have helped me so much. You never hurt me, Mei. You don't have to change who you are because of me."
Suddenly, your back presses against something firm and warm. When you look up, Matteo has wrapped his arms around you in a protective hug from behind. "Don't mind her. My sister's always been emotional." His hold tightens slightly. "Just remember you can count on me for anything.”
You smile at him and give their hands a final squeeze before stepping away. Mei immediately grabs your hand again.
"You need to eat! It's lunchtime, and I'm starving too!’ She shoots a look at Matteo. "And you stay on her other side! If anything happens, we have to be ready to catch her.”
"Lunch? Already?" you ask, giving Matteo a puzzled look.
Matteo nods. "It's past time. You were in the infirmary all morning." He hands you a lunchbox with a small smile. "I picked it up for you.”
"Really...?" Guilt settles over you as you take the food. "I hope I didn't make you late."
"Nonsense," Mei says, tugging you gently to make you walk with them. "Come on, we're going with you."
Their concern is sweet, but something in your chest feels heavy. Are they going to start treating you like everyone else does? Like you can't take care of yourself? You hope they don't change the way they act around you.
On your way to the cafeteria, you fail to notice the familiar figure watching you from a distance.
The cafeteria is full, as expected. Every table is occupied, and the buzz of conversation fills the room, though for some reason it feels quieter than usual.
"Every table is taken... We'll have to find another place to eat," you say, scanning the room.
"That's where you're wrong." Mei gives a mischievous smile and nods toward the center. There, in the middle of everything, a table with a discreet reserved sign sits untouched. "I asked Matt to save us a spot while you were in the infirmary. When he said it was for you, they gave in right away."
You hadn't even thought of looking there. After all, that's where Elisa and her friends usually sit. Seeing it empty feels odd.
"Wait... isn't that Elisa's table? How did you manage that alone?"
"Shhh!" Mei slaps her hands over your mouth as if sealing a dangerous spell. "Don't say her name out loud. What if you summon the creature?"
You narrow your eyes at her antics but give a small nod. Satisfied, she removes her hands.
"Good. Matt, let's sit down..." She says, but freezes mid-step when she notices her brother is gone. "What? [Name], do you know where he went?"
You don't even answer with words. You just tilt your head to the side. Matteo had fallen behind, and it wasn't accidental. He's talking to someone.
"Ugh!" Mei groans, stomping her foot. "See? This is exactly why we don't say her name."
Without waiting, she storms off toward him, and you follow, trying not to laugh.
"How do you know it's her?" You whisper.
"It's simple." Mei lowers her voice dramatically. "I can smell that bitch from a mile away."
As soon as she reaches them, Mei grabs Matteo's shoulder and yanks him back. "Excuse me! Am I interrupting something?!"
Matteo blinks a few times, clearly surprised by the aggressive approach. But once he recognizes his sister, his posture eases. "Hey, Mei. I was just saying hello to Elisa."
"Just saying hello?" Elisa cuts in smoothly, sliding her arm through his with a sweet, practiced smile. She doesn't even glance at you or Mei. "I was waiting for you. Aren't we sitting together? I even dismissed my friends so we could be alone today."
You see Mei's jaw tighten. Every sugary word Elisa speaks seems to grind her teeth a little further. You give Mei’s arm a gentle squeeze, trying to calm her, and she softens a bit, though the tension still clings to her.
"Well..." Matteo looks between all of you, clearly conflicted. His eyes linger on you, searching for an answer. You offer a small, warm smile, trying to ease the pressure rather than sway him. Mei, however, does the opposite, glaring at him with a silent threat that screams ‘choose wisely’.
Finally, Matteo straightens. "Maybe next time. I'm sorry, Elisa, but my sister needs me. And I'm not leaving my responsibilities to [Name] either.”
Surprise flickers over Elisa’s face. She clearly hadn’t expected him to refuse her. Her eyes finally land on you, sharp and displeased. Mei glares right back, unwilling to yield, while you avert your gaze, wishing the tension would dissolve. Why can’t everyone just get along?
As if she heard your thoughts, Elisa breaks the silence. "It's okay, I understand.”
Her face softens. You think she’s about to walk away, but that’s not what happens. She steps right between Mei and Matteo, her voice gentler than ever. "Then I'll stay with you. It would be nice if I got closer to your friends and family, don't you think?”
"No way!" Mei refuses instantly, but Matteo actually seems to consider the idea.
"I think it's a good idea." He nods. "I think [Name] would like it too. You're friends, aren't you?"
The question catches you completely off guard. You don’t even know what expression to make. Thankfully, Elisa answers for you.
"Of course we are!" she declares, and before you can even blink, her arms are around your shoulder and her cheek presses against yours. The sudden closeness freezes you in place. You don't return the hug, but you don't pull away either. "We're best friends, she'd definitely want me to stay in your group forever!”
"Elisa..." You say her name softly, confused, but she only winks in response.
"What do you think you're doing?!" Mei snaps, lunging to your other side and trying to pry Elisa off you so she can replace her. "You can try to steal my brother all you want, but don't you dare try to steal my best friend! She's too good for you!”
Matteo just sighs at the situation. You give him a helping look, but you know that even he doesn't dare go against his sister's fury.
"I don't know what you're talking about." Elisa tries to cling tighter to you. "What kind of friend leaves her friend walking home alone at night? Poor [Name]. Yesterday she had to carry all her groceries by herself..." Her tone is sweet, but the intention is clear. She wants to provoke Mei.
"Please, Elisa, I was the one who told her not to come with me..." You try to correct, but it is useless. Neither of them is listening.
"I-I know I was wrong..." Mei admits, her voice shaking for a moment before she hardens it again. "But at least I recognize my mistakes and I will not repeat them. Unlike you. You know how [Name] is, and you pushed her harder than she could handle." Her arms tighten around you, and you have to swallow down a small groan of pain. "Did you know it is your fault she had to go to the infirmary today?”
When the hope that things would finally calm down started to fade, Matteo stepped in and cut the argument short.
"Hey, Elisa." He calls her name, and she instantly falls silent, turning toward him. "Where's your lunch? Aren't you going to eat?" His calm tone feels almost out of place in the tension surrounding you.
Elisa blinks, surprised by the question. "Oh, right! I'm going to get it now!" She rushes away without looking back.
You let out a relieved breath, but with Elisa gone, Mei immediately redirects her anger toward someone else. "Why did you let her join our group?!" she demands, arms crossed. "You know I can't stand her! Don't tell me it's because you like her!"
"It's nothing like that." Matteo keeps his voice soft, trying to sound reassuring. "We need a good relationship with our classmates. Networking in a school like this is essential. Come on, let's sit down."
"I don't care! Why should I get along with someone I hate just because of the future?!”
Mei follows right behind him, and you keep the same pace. Their arguments are so common that you're already used to them. At first they were worrying, but now you know they always end with the two hugging like nothing happened.
"You don't need to like her, just pretend you do.” Matteo says once he sits, clearly trying to end the topic. "Besides, she's pretty and probably has a high-status background. Being with someone like that wouldn't be a bad deal.”
No one even knows where she came from!" Mei protests.
You sit across from her brother. Mei hesitates for a moment, glancing at the two empty seats. In the end, she chooses the one beside you and keeps going.
"And what if she's from some company that doesn't bring any profit?”
"If she's in a school like this and hides her identity, I highly doubt she's anything less than the daughter of some major executive," Matteo replies, unfazed.
Mei rolls her eyes and casually wraps an arm around you, pulling you close with a proud grin. "Whoever she is, she doesn't compare to our [Name] here!”
"Mei, you shouldn’t drag me into your arguments.” You gently chide her. "But honestly, I agree with your brother. Maybe she just doesn’t like talking about herself. I’ve met a lot of people like that. Reserved people who prefer not to share too much personal information, sometimes it’s a way to protect themselves.”
"Still, it’s suspicious..." Mei seems to finally lose interest in the conversation and changes the subject. "Let’s focus on what matters! What did you bring for lunch today?"
"Here, I brought a fork for you." You hand the utensil to her. Since you’ve been eating together, Mei has always sat beside you, which means you need to bring double the food. "And today I also got a fruit salad, just the way you like it.”
Mei’s eyes light up at the sight of the salad, though the rest of the meal doesn’t excite her as much. “The rest looks kind of ordinary… but I like it, so I’ll eat with you.” She spears a piece of meat with the fork and brings it to her mouth.
“And it’s good for you too.” Matteo comments, opening his own lunch. “Even though I feel sorry for [Name] having to carry all this, I’m glad that thanks to her, you’re eating healthier.”
"Or maybe she just doesn’t have money to buy her own meal."
The sudden interruption catches all of you off guard. Elisa is back, sliding in energetically next to Matteo, her cheerful mood unmistakable. She seems genuinely happy to be alone with him at the table.
Before Mei can fire off a response that would likely spark another unnecessary argument, you step in.
"It’s not like that." You offer the fruit salad to the girl beside you, letting her eat while you handle the situation. "She and Matt always offer to help pay for groceries, but I refuse. My parents are also happy I’ve made friends and even give me extra money for it.”
"Wow…" Elisa feigns surprise, her expression shows she isn’t truly interested. "Are your parents really that nice?”
"Of course they are! Do you even know who her parents are?" Mei answers for you, twirling a piece of mango on her fork. "Maybe that’s why you’re here. Want a little taste of her spotlight?”
"Ha!" Elisa flips her hair back with a challenging smile. "You don’t even know who I am. Don’t tell me you’re afraid I’m a threat not just to you, but to her too." She folds her arms on the table. "Did you know that sharing too much about yourself can be dangerous? [Name]’s family is well-known… I bet it wouldn’t be hard to find everything about her online.”
You sigh. She isn’t entirely wrong, but this isn’t a topic you want to deal with. Matteo notices your discomfort and decides to intervene.
“Where’s your food?” He asks, looking at Elisa as if searching for something. “Did you forget it?”
With Elisa distracted, you glance at Mei discreetly. She’s staring at the girl coldly. You don’t like seeing her like that.
“Oh, actually…” Elisa leans slightly toward Matteo. “A classmate forgot their lunch today, so I decided to give mine to her. Isn’t that kind of me?”
Matteo raises an eyebrow. “Couldn’t she have bought something herself? Or you could have bought one for yourself?”
She shrugs. "I forgot my wallet today, and I don’t know her situation, maybe she didn’t have extra money. See? I can even care about people I don’t know!" Her lips curl into an almost proud smile.
Elisa really seems determined to impress him… For now, it looks like it's just you and Mei.
You wave your hand in front of your best friend's face to get her attention. She blinks, as if snapping out of a trance.
"How about I get us some hot chocolate? It's cold today.”
The annoyance she had a moment ago disappears instantly, and she nods. "Get extra chocolate for me! And preferably a bit of white chocolate too." You start to walk away, thinking she's done, but she adds one more detail. "And ask for a pink mug! I don't want them giving me a masculine color like blue..."
You give her a confused look for a second, but nod. "Can you organize my utensils while I'm gone? That way the table will be ready when I get back."
With her agreement, you get up. You had originally planned to wait for her to finish eating before cleaning the table, but you figured it would be better to keep her busy so she wouldn’t pay attention to her brother being flirted with right in front of her.
A few minutes later, you return with only one mug. Mei turns to welcome you, but her expression shifts to surprise and confusion when she notices you brought just one.
"Sorry. It looks like it was the last one they could make today." You explain with a shy smile as you set the mug gently on the table. "I hope you don’t mind sharing."
"Of course not." Mei takes a deep breath, enjoying the sweet steam rising from the drink. "It smells amazing! But we should wait a bit, It’s probably too hot.”
"Hmmm..." You think for a moment, then an idea comes to you. You pick up the straw and start drawing softly on the foam. First a slightly crooked heart. Then a smiling sun. And finally, the head of a little cat.
From the corner of your eye, you can see Mei watching you with quiet admiration.
"Do you want to try?" you ask, turning the mug toward her. Mei looks up, surprised by the invitation.
She hesitates, but curiosity wins. She pushes her sleeve back, presses her own straw to the foam, and makes a crooked line that you quickly turn into a goofy mustache on the little cat.
"Look, now he’s a detective cat!" Both of you laugh together, the simple game bringing a moment of warmth and ease.
While you watch Mei start her own drawing, you notice Elisa sitting alone on the other side of the table. She observes you quietly, pretending not to care, even though her eyes clearly show otherwise.
"Where did Matteo go?"
The question slips out before you can stop it, immediately drawing both girls' attention.
"He said he needed to go somewhere first." Elisa answers coldly, looking away as if she couldn’t care less. "I’m sure he went to get something for me.”
Mei lets out a short laugh. "And he didn’t leave his food with you? I thought you two were going to share. Guess he wasn’t that interested after all." She turns to you, ignoring the furious glare Elisa sends her way. When she sees the worry in your expression, her voice softens. "Don’t stress over it, It’s probably a call from our parents! He wouldn’t leave without warning us unless it was important.”
Her words ease your mind a little, but not completely. Another worry lingers. Does that mean Elisa hasn’t eaten anything yet?
"Hey." You call out to her. "Come sit with us for now. We can all draw together.”
Elisa’s eyes widen, and before she answers, she studies both of your faces, as if searching for a hidden motive. Your expression is gentle, but the girl beside you is radiating pure indignation.
"Trying to get my attention while Matt isn’t here?" Elisa’s confidence returns as she stands. "Bold move. Can’t do it in front of a guy?”
You stare at her, confused.
"Don't call my brother by his nickname! Only I and [Name] can do that!" Mei snaps back, annoyed.
Elisa ignores her and sits at your side. "I’ll accept this time. You should feel grateful."
You hand her your straw, and she takes it a little roughly. Even with that quick touch, you feel how cold her hands are. Elisa notices your reaction but says nothing. Instead, she leans in and begins to draw.
You and Mei watch quietly. Little by little, the drawing forms. A soft, adorable teddy bear.
"Wow, that’s adorable!" you say, impressed.
"Yeah…" Mei admits reluctantly. "But I know how to draw one too!”
Elisa’s smile widens. "Of course it’s cute. I made it.”
When she moves away to return to her seat, her arm lightly brushes against your hand, and you pull away. "What is it? Too shy to touch me?”
"It's not that..." You press your fingers lightly to her hand. "You're cold."
"Of course she is." Mei cuts in, pointing at Elisa’s thin jacket. "Do you really think that kind of clothing is okay for this weather?”
Now that she says it, it’s true. Elisa is wearing nothing but a thin silk coat. Beautiful, sure, but absolutely useless against the cold.
"I’m not cold," Elisa insists, showing off her clothes as if that proves anything. "Pretty, right? I bet– Hey, what are you doing?”
She stops midsentence when she feels something warm resting on her shoulders. You had taken off your own coat and were draping it over her, gently pressing the soft fabric around her cold skin.
"Is it better now? You can keep it." You study her now-covered figure. "I think it suits you."
"Are you out of your mind?!" Mei grabs your shoulders and pulls you closer, desperate at first, then softening the gesture as she remembers your condition. "What about you, [Name]?! You're going to freeze!"
"Don't worry. I'm sure the heater will keep me warm."
"Heater?" She points to the corner of the cafeteria, where a few staff members are struggling to fix a machine. "It's broken! That's why Elisa was freezing!”
That makes sense. You hadn't stopped to think about it.
"Well, I guess I'll have to warm myself up with this hot chocolate, then." You stir the liquid slowly with your straw before bringing the mug to your lips. The sweet, creamy flavor spreads across your tongue, filling you with a comforting warmth. "It's at the perfect temperature. Here, try it." You hand the mug to Mei, who takes it eagerly.
She drinks a generous sip, smiling with delight. "Wow, it's amazing! I love it!" she says before taking another sip, completely satisfied.
While Mei enjoys her drink, your attention drifts back to Elisa, and you're surprised to notice she's already looking at you. Her expression is still tinged with astonishment, so you offer her a gentle smile, hoping to ease whatever she's feeling.
"I hope you're feeling better."
She lowers her head slightly, unable to meet your eyes. You decide not to push her, letting the soft sounds of Mei’s happy humming fill the space between you.
“What a gentleman…”
You’re almost sure you heard something from Elisa. "Did you say something? I don’t think I heard you right…"
"No, it was nothing!" She turns her face away quickly, clearly embarrassed. You choose not to push further.
Silence settles again until lunch finally ends. When the bell rings, calling students back to class, you stand up with the girls right behind you.
"And Matt never came back…" You comment as you adjust your lunchbox. "Do you think something happened?"
"I wouldn’t be surprised if he got distracted again." Mei scans the room, searching for him among the students. "He's going to be late at this rate! Come on, [Name]. Let's go find him!" She motions for you to follow her, deliberately ignoring Elisa’s presence.
But Elisa doesn’t let herself be pushed aside. She quickly moves to your other side. "I'm coming too. I'm worried about him. And it'll be good if I stay with you two. Our Matt will be happy to see us getting along."
Mei rolls her eyes the moment she realizes the trio is forming. "He’s not ours, and I told you to stop calling him that!" She grumbles and speeds up while scrolling through her phone. "I'm calling until he picks up!”
"There she goes…" you mutter, watching your best friend walk off. "If you want to stay with us, you'll have to keep up with her pace." You sling your bag over your shoulder and pull out your wallet.
"It’s not like I want to." Elisa looks away. "I'm only doing this for him."
"Yeah, sure…" You reply absentmindedly as you pull out a few hundred-dollar bills. "Here, take this." You press the money into her hands. "I didn't bring much, but it should be enough for you to get something to eat later.”
She stares at the bills as if she can’t believe they're real. "What?! Why are you giving me this?"
"So you can buy something to eat later. If I knew you were out of money, I would've gotten you lunch beforehand."
She stares at the bills as if she can’t believe they're real. "What?! Why are you giving me this?"
"So you can buy something to eat later. If I knew you were out of money, I would've gotten you lunch beforehand."
She stuffs the bills into her bag, shaking her head. "Your attempts to bribe me are pathetic. Money won’t help you win my heart." With that, Elisa speeds ahead, following the same path as Mei.
Well, at least she accepted the money. You hope she manages to eat something today.
You’re about to go after them when you feel a firm hand settle on your shoulder. When you turn around, you come face-to-face with Matteo.
"You really know how to handle those two." He looks genuinely impressed. "I thought I'd walk into chaos when I came back, but when I saw Mei smiling and Elisa calm, I figured I could leave you alone for a bit.”
"Matteo!" The surprise escapes before you can control it. "So that's why you left? You could have said something."
"I actually got a call from our parents." He unlocks his phone, skimming through the messages Mei sent him. "They wanted an update. And, you know… she’s been so much happier since she met you. Before she came to this school, I had never seen her like this. Our parents are grateful that you’re around.”
Your eyes widen at first, but you relax under his touch, leaning slightly toward him without thinking.
But someone else notices.
If looks could kill, you’d have vanished already. Elisa watches from afar, frozen, as if something inside her just snapped.
Don’t you get enough attention already? Why go after him too?
Her jaw tightens. She turns away abruptly, walking fast. Only when she reaches a quieter hallway does she stop, leaning on the wall as her breath stutters.
You already have everything she’s ever wanted. And now you’re going after the person she’s set her heart on?
It’s cruel. It’s unfair. Why does it always have to be you?
"Ely?”
The voice cuts through her spiraling thoughts. Elisa lifts her head and sees one of the girls from her group approaching, with the rest gathered behind.
"Why didn’t you stay with us today?" the girl asks with a frown. "Why were you hanging around [Name]?"
"We thought you couldn’t stand her," another adds, stepping closer. "The boys didn’t stay with us either… Aren’t we supposed to support each other?”
"Exactly!" a third girl chimes in. "Don’t tell me you’d rather be with that stuck-up girl than with us."
…
Elisa feels her patience thinning to a thread. She forces a sweet, polite smile back onto her face.
"Sorry, girls… I had to. [Name] is getting too close to Matt. I need to keep an eye on her." She casually inspects her nails, calculating. "She’s difficult to handle. Always acting superior, bragging, talking trash about other girls…”
A few of them whisper among themselves, while the leader crosses her arms, clearly annoyed. Elisa steps closer to her and lowers her voice so only she hears.
"She doesn’t seem to like you either."
She leaves that needle-sharp comment behind and walks off with calm, collected steps.
"Did you see the face she made before we showed up?" One of the girls asks quietly.
"Yeah… [Name] must’ve said something awful to her.”
"I bet she did. Just because she’s who she is, she thinks she can treat everyone however she wants…"
"Enough." The leader exhales sharply. "I’m sick of her attitude." She looks at all of them with a cold, decisive stare. "Let’s remind her where she stands.”
You can’t remember the last time you felt pain this sharp. Maybe it’s because you still haven’t recovered from the last time.
"Don’t tell me you’re already tired."
The girl standing over you presses her foot against a bruise on your thigh, and a quiet whimper slips out of you. "How do you get hurt so easily? We’re not even using our full strength.”
A few steps away, another girl holds your lunchbox with open disdain. "You’re such a weirdo. How can someone like you eat something so cheap?" She tosses it into the trash without a second thought. "Whatever."
If there’s anything good about the pain, it’s that it muffles their laughter. For some reason, hearing them laugh at you hurts far more than their kicks ever could.
"Just looking at you annoys me."
The leader mutters this before delivering one last kick to your stomach. The impact sends you crashing into the wall like you’re nothing more than an obstacle. "Let’s go, girls. This thing isn’t even good enough to use as a punching bag.”
Their footsteps fade down the hallway, and you release a shaky breath you didn’t even realize you were holding. It looks like you’re free for the rest of the day.
The infirmary isn’t far and the hallway is empty. Every small movement makes your muscles scream, but you’re more afraid of collapsing before you get there. Using the wall for support, you force yourself forward step by step.
The short walk feels endless, but luckily you don’t run into anyone. When you finally reach the infirmary, the room is completely empty. No sign of the nurse. She’s probably on her lunch break.
You think about pressing the call button, but decide to let her have her break in peace. With slow, careful movements, you drag yourself to the nearest bed and let yourself collapse onto it. The softness of the mattress and the cool fabric against your bruises offer the smallest bit of relief. After a moment, you adjust yourself upright, leaning back against the pillows. The silence in the room is almost overwhelming, yet completely familiar.
Your eyes drift to the windows. Outside, the blue sky and sunlight feel like the only things left that can comfort you. That view has always been a reminder that there’s a world beyond these walls. Honestly, you can’t stand this place.
Before your thoughts can sink any deeper, the sound of a door opening cuts through the quiet. You look over, expecting the nurse, but instead you see a familiar face.
"There you are!" Elisa bursts into the room, eyes bright with excitement as she closes the door behind her. "Your friends and the teacher were really worried. It’s not every day the model student disappears without a word."
"I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to worry anyone," you say, offering a small smile. "Please don’t tell them."
Elisa arches a brow, surprised, but eventually nods. Only then does she notice something on your neck.
"Hey, what’s that?"
She points to the dark bruise blooming across your skin. "What were you doing while skipping class to end up like this?"
Your hesitation makes her assume you won’t answer.
"Well, since the nurse isn’t here, I guess I can take care of you until she comes back." You hear the sound of drawers opening beside the bed, but you stay still, too afraid to move and worsen the pain. "If you keep looking like that, the boys will avoid you even more than they already do. You don’t want that, do you?”
"I don't really care about that… I'm still learning how to make friends with you guys, so it's probably better if not too many people try to get close to me right now." While you explain, Elisa seems focused on choosing an ointment. "And I think some girls really don’t like me..."
"Oh, really? Not even the girls?" She smiles with a hint of humor. You’re not sure what she finds funny, but maybe she is trying to lighten the mood. "Makes sense… People usually like pretty, well-put-together girls. Maybe they just don’t see you that way!" When she steps closer, you tilt your neck slightly so she can apply the gel to the bruise.
"Why what?" she asks, catching your murmur. "Wait, are they the ones doing this to you? Wow, you really don’t get along with anyone in this school." She leans back a little, tilting her head to look at you directly. "Why are you even here?"
"What do you mean? I'm here because…"
Your voice trails off when she lifts her hand, holding a finger close to your lips. She doesn’t touch you, but the gesture alone silences you instantly.
“I’m talking about your reputation here. If nobody likes you, there’s no reason for you to stay." She picks up the ointment again, spreading more of it across her fingertips. "It’s for your own good. I just want to help you."
Before her fingers reach the next bruise, you catch her wrist. Your hold is gentle, but it still surprises her.
"I understand what you mean." You lower your gaze toward your lap. "You’re right. This isn’t good for my parents either. I don’t want to bring them any trouble after everything they’ve done for me.”
"…See?" She tries to pull her hand away, but you hold her a little tighter, your fingers sliding down to entwine with hers.
With your other hand, you hold her tighter, cupping both of her hands between yours before lifting your head and smiling. "That's why I should become a pretty girl like you! You can help me with that, right? I saw you looking at some of my mom’s dresses on my phone the other day. I can ask her to give us a few! How about that?”
The shock stays on her face for a moment, but after a quick blink she recomposes herself, looking away with a small huff.
"You think you can just put on some makeup and a cute outfit and everyone will forget who you are?" She scolds you, though her expression suggests she’s actually considering it. "Well, maybe that’s still better than you leaving school. Matt would be really upset if you left..." She mutters something under her breath before recovering her firm tone. "And let go of my hand. I'm tired of your excuses to touch me.”
"Sorry!" You quickly release her, and she withdraws her arm as if your touch burned her."Not just him. Mei would be sad too. And you." Taking your phone from your pocket, you open your contacts. "I’ll talk to my mom about it right now.”
"For someone who was dying in pain, you look pretty excited." Elisa says while washing her hands at the sink. "I have to go back to class. I can’t miss a lesson just because someone doesn’t know how to take care of herself." After drying her hands, she heads toward the door.
"Thank you so much, Ely."
Your words make her stop mid-step, so you keep going.
"I never thought anyone would take care of me unless it was their job. Really... thank you.”
You can’t see her face with her back turned, but you feel like you don’t need to. She doesn’t say anything as she leaves the room.
The nurse will probably be back soon to finish what Elisa started. In the meantime, you turn your attention back to your phone.
Your mom, as always, is willing to do anything for you. But this time, she seems even more excited, sending picture after picture of different outfits.
This is going to be fun!
"How many times do I have to say it?!" Mei lifts the set of clothes as if sheer will could prove her point. "The black uniform is better for cold weather. It absorbs more sunlight and heat, so it keeps you warmer!"
"Color doesn’t matter that much!" Elisa adjusts the red uniform on the hanger with a practiced flick. "Red draws attention, gives an elegant impression… it suits someone of her status better!"
While their argument keeps escalating, you and Matteo are on the other side of the room, surrounded by hangers, fabrics, and scattered pieces of clothing. He watches you pick a few school outfits, trying to look invested, though his gaze keeps drifting back to the two girls behind you.
Honestly, you would rather be in a fitting room with one of them, but Elisa was far too busy choosing outfits, and Mei seemed deeply uncomfortable changing in front of anyone who wasn’t her brother.
"Can you fix the collar on my blazer?" You lean closer to the mirror, tugging at the fabric. "The more I touch it, the worse it gets."
Matteo steps in and nods, smoothing the collar carefully. From the corner of his eye, he glances at Mei and Elisa again. "Are you sure it was a good idea to put those two together?"
You follow his gaze. They’re still arguing about colors and fabric quality, each convinced she’s absolutely right. The original plan was just to try on the uniforms with Elisa, but you didn’t want to leave Mei out, and you certainly didn’t want to deal with either of them alone. And that is how all four of you ended up stuck in this situation.
"It’d be nice if they learned to tolerate each other, considering Elisa likes staying close to you." Matteo finishes fixing your collar. You drop onto the sofa with a sigh. He kneels in front of you, waiting for the next item. "Hmm, I think I’ll go with the boots with the bow."
He grabs the pair you point at, brings it to you, and gently slips them onto your feet, tightening the straps with careful hands. "I don’t get these arguments," he says, still focused. "In the end, whichever you choose, it’ll work out."
Hurried footsteps approach, cutting your conversation short. Matteo doesn’t bother reacting and leaves you to handle it.
"[Name]! Why did you ask her for help and not me?!" Mei blurts out first, crossing her arms. "If I knew you needed help, I would have brought you an entire collection of new uniforms to wear for a month!"
Elisa refuses to let that slide. "She knows you wouldn’t make her stand out the way I do." She turns toward Matteo, as if only now remembering he's there. "And you? Why are you on the floor? I’m the one who should be helping her get dressed."
Matteo is taken aback by Elisa’s sharp tone, and so are you, even though it isn’t the first time. Ever since you started drawing the boys’ attention, she has been strict with anyone who tries to get close to you, and Matteo has been no exception. You expected that kind of reaction from Mei, but not from her.
You really hope she doesn’t think you're trying to take her place.
But Mei doesn’t let Matteo speak. "This is the job of the BEST FRIEND, which is me!" She grabs your hand and helps you stand up before you realize Matteo had already finished helping you. "Here, [Name], I picked an outfit for you- Wait, you’re already dressed?"
The girls only seem to notice now that you're already dressed. You spin once, showing off the new uniform. "So? What do you guys think? I love it!"
Mei lets out a breathy, amazed sigh before scanning you from head to toe. "You look gorgeous. The sleeve seams are perfect, the skirt is the ideal length, the blazer fits you so well... Oh, and the tights look so warm, you won't freeze at all, and…!" She touches every detail that catches her eye. "Matt helped you pick this out, right? At least he inherited his sister's good taste!"
You smile, two approvals secured. Looking for Elisa’s, you notice she’s following every movement Mei makes. Judging by her enchanted expression, she liked it too.
"What about you, Ely? What do you think?"
Your voice seems to pull her out of a trance, but once she finally looks you in the eyes, she shuts down. "It's... adequate. But did you really need a man to help you? I would have picked something much better for you."
Your smile fades. You had hoped she would like it. Maybe she’s upset because you asked someone else for help, even after asking her first. That must be it. You should make it up to her later.
"...I'm glad you approve."
Gently, you step away from Mei's hands and walk toward the door. "I think we're ready. Can we go?"
Everyone nods, but before you can take the first step outside, you notice nobody is following you. Mei laughs softly when she sees your confused look.
"What are you waiting for? You're the star here, remember?" She pushes you forward playfully. "Go on, go!"
You swallow hard. You've been doing this for a while, but it still feels strange to walk without your friends at your side.
Your footsteps echo down the hall as your thoughts drift. Now that you're getting popular, even if only among the boys, you think you finally understand Elisa. There's something comforting about being the center of attention, as if all those eyes on you mean you finally belong somewhere.
Someone calling your name snaps you back to reality, and you start greeting people as they approach. Their smiles are warm, their eyes gentle...
So different from the cold stares of the nurses who used to watch over you.
"Whoa, easy there." He leans in a little, still holding you while he regains his balance. When you look up, you notice how close the two of you are. "In a hurry to go somewhere?" he asks, his tone relaxed.
You pull back a little, trying to regain your composure. "S-Sorry... I should've been watching where I was going."
While you're talking to him, your friends peek from the corner of the hallway.
"Isn't that one of the most popular boys in school?" Mei whispers, half thrilled. "Look at that, [Name] is really getting popular."
"Indeed. I wonder if his family's wealth matches hers." Matt replies, analyzing the scene with a critical gaze. "And I'm proud of you. I would've expected you to be jealous now that she spends less time with us."
"Jealous? Me?!" She places a hand over her chest dramatically. "Never! I am thrilled that someone who actually deserves attention is finally getting it." Her tone drops into a silky purr. "He seems very into her, and [Name] looks happy with him. What if they actually like each other?"
Matt’s brow furrows. He watches his sister closely. She keeps flicking quick glances toward Elisa, clearly provoking her on purpose. He should have expected this.
And just as he feared, Elisa steps away, retreating quietly from the group. The moment Mei notices, her smile drops.
"I knew something was off." Matt mutters, crossing his arms. "You can barely stand [Name] being around other girls, so how would you ever be fine with her getting close to boys?"
A sharp, humorless laugh escapes her, but her eyes remain fixed on the scene. "It was just a joke. I was only..." She suddenly stops talking, tilts her head and narrows her eyes. "Hold on, where is he taking her? We need to follow them!"
Before she can run off, a hand grabs her by the back of her shirt and pulls her away.
"Not happening. We are leaving [Name] alone and cleaning up the disaster we left in the fitting room."
Mei complains the entire way, but she cannot escape her brother’s grip as he drags her back, step by unwilling step.
Meanwhile, Elisa walked through the corridors, trying to let the silence calm the anger bubbling inside her. She approached a vending machine, but, upon checking her wallet, realized she didn't have a single coin. Such a common situation, yet one that still seemed impossible to get used to.
Useless boys. None of them had tried bribing her lately, probably because of you.
She sank onto the floor beside the machine, trying to blend into the background. A slow breath left her lips, and she tried to let the silence swallow the tension in her chest. But the calm shattered when she heard voices approaching, and one of them was yours. She opened her eyes and saw you from afar, laughing as you spoke with the boy.
He was supposed to be her next target, but now that you had caught his attention so easily, he would probably never look her way again. And weirdly, she couldn’t hate you for it. She couldn’t even bring herself to blame you.
Her attention shifted entirely to him. And instead of feeling angry at you, all she felt was rage toward him. Why was he touching you so casually? Why was he trying to get closer to you? Why was he showering you with gifts?
Elisa knew the taste of jealousy well, but this wasn’t it. You affected her in ways that he never could. That was what frustrated her. She couldn’t see you as a rival or as an obstacle. Even so, something about you tangled her thoughts in ways nobody else ever had.
She tried to focus, tried to calm down, but couldn’t. Every laugh you let out, every gesture you made, every glance he gave you reminded her just how deeply this was getting to her. He wasn’t the problem. You were. You always were.
Footsteps interrupted her spiraling thoughts, and suddenly your conversation with the boy came to an end. When she finally looked at you, there was something uneasy in your expression at first, but it melted the moment your eyes met hers.
"I thought you were with Matt. What are you doing here alone?" Before Elisa could answer, you pulled your hands from behind your back, revealing an elegant iced coffee and a snack, probably from the vending machine in the other hall. "I noticed you were looking at the machine earlier but didn’t buy anything. I figured maybe you forgot your money, so I got these for you."
She blinked, surprised, before accepting the snack. Her brows knit together. "You didn’t have to do that."
You settled on the floor beside her, watching quietly as she unwrapped the food and took her first bite. You stayed silent so she could eat without feeling rushed. Elisa, however, looked uneasy under the stillness.
"So… what happened?" She asked, opening the drink without looking away from you. The sound of the seal breaking echoed around you, but what stole your breath was the intensity in her eyes, as if she was reading every thought on your face. "It was pretty obvious you were uncomfortable earlier."
You shrank a little, surprised she had noticed. "That boy…" Your voice came out softer than intended. "He kept touching me. I… didn’t really like it." A shiver ran down your spine as the memory returned.
Elisa raised her brows, tilting her head with genuine curiosity. "What do you mean? You’re always clinging to Mei. Anyone can see you like physical affection."
Your gaze dropped to the floor. The words you needed were there and gone, slipping out of your reach. "W-Well… she’s my friend. I don’t mind when it’s my friends."
Elisa let out a soft, almost mocking laugh. "So that means I’m not your friend?"
Your eyes widened. Her reaction stunned you. It seemed to surprise her too, as if the words slipped out before she could think about them. Why did she care so much?
After a moment, you finally answered. "I… thought you wouldn’t like it. You always seemed uncomfortable when people touched you, so I tried not to bother you."
How did you notice that? Had you been paying that much attention to her?
Elisa couldn’t bring herself to look at you. Her gaze stayed glued to the floor. "Just like Mei, I’m also your friend. I don’t mind if you hug me, or put your arm around my waist, or kiss me. That’s normal between friends." The words slipped out before she realized how specific they were, describing gestures you often shared with Mei and that she always ended up watching. "I mean, I’m only saying that because…"
Her sentence died the moment she felt a warm breath near her cheek. She turned sharply, and your lips brushed the corner of hers, close enough that they almost met.
A soft laugh escaped you at her stunned expression. You licked a bit of sauce from your own lips, then lifted a napkin and gently wiped the small stain near her mouth. "I’m glad you feel comfortable with me, Ely. But I’m sure you wouldn’t want to stain the new uniform my mom gave you." Then you stood up and extended your hand to her. "Class is about to start. Come on, let’s walk while you finish your drink!"
Elisa’s breath caught for a moment. It felt like she had been pulled back to the instant she saw you for the first time. The sunlight from the window highlighted the glow in your hair, and the smile you offered seemed meant only for her. There was something in your eyes, something warm and tender, that almost melted her on the spot. And with your hand extended toward her, you looked like a prince.
The prince she had always dreamed about.
She held your hand, and the light touch you gave back made her heart quiver. The feeling, however, also reminded her of your limits, and she had to lean on the vending machine to stand up. You did not let go of her hand as you walked through the halls, and the silence between you felt comfortable, almost intimate. Your footsteps echoed softly, and Elisa stayed at your side as if she were drifting through a dream she did not want to wake from.
Since the moment you started walking, she simply could not look away from you. She watched every detail, the way the light brushed your skin, the faint shine in your eyes, the calmness in your expression.
Whenever you noticed her staring and gave her a small smile, Elisa turned her head away in a hurry and pretended to be distracted by anything else. A door, a sign, the floor. Anything that was not you.
Inside her, however, a quiet question grew stronger. Why did you look so much like the man of her dreams if you were a woman?
You carried every quality she had ever wanted to find in someone. You were wealthy, beautiful, gentle, and attentive in a way that felt almost knightly. You had presence, posture, confidence, traits she had never seen gathered in one person. And yet, you did not match the mold her mind insisted on calling ideal.
The thought made her look at you again, from head to toe, with a strange mix of fascination and hope. Maybe there was a way. She imagined you with a men's haircut, looser clothes, and small adjustments that could shape your appearance into what she pictured. It seemed absurd, but in her mind the fantasy took form as something possible.
Perfect. You would look perfect. The perfect man for her.
As the fantasy grew stronger, a bold thought appeared. If you were a man, there would be no competition. At least that way, most men will no longer be interested in you. Elisa knew she stood no chance against them if they wanted you, but girls were different. Against them, she felt confident, certain she could win against anyone as long as she could shape you into what she desired.
Before her thoughts could spiral further, she felt a shove on her shoulder. A student running through the hall bumped into her, and Elisa lost her balance. You tried to catch her, but both of you ended up falling, and you did everything you could to cushion the impact and keep her protected. Elisa gasped at the feeling of your body against hers, until she noticed you were trembling. When she looked at your face, she saw your eyes filling with tears, but the moment you realized she was watching, you tried your best to smile.
"Sorry, I should've been paying attention. Are you okay?"
Even though you could not fully hold her up, you still tried. For Elisa, the effort alone was enough, and she needed nothing else to feel safe. You tried to get up, but Elisa stayed atop you. When she saw your confused expression, she spoke.
"[Name], how about we go to the mall this weekend, just the two of us? I have some incredible ideas for looks you could try."
Your eyes widened at the invitation, unsure how to react. She simply smiled as if she already knew your answer.
Well, why not?
_________________________________________________
"I've never seen a girl with your style." The boy you were talking to says, intrigued. "Do you want to go out sometime..."
Before you can answer, your hand is yanked back. "[Name], I found new clothes for you!"
You try to protest, but Elisa is already dragging you through the hall. "E-Ely, please, can we slow down..." Every step she takes forces you to walk faster, and you find yourself torn between surprise and the strange feeling of being guided by someone who leaves no room to refuse. Your heart races, and you cannot decide if you want to complain or simply let her pull you along.
Why does she always do this whenever a boy gets near you?
_____________________________________________
"I think we should change your clothes a bit. They look way too tight..." she comments, breaking your distracted stare and noticing exactly where you were looking. "Hey, are you listening to me?"
You point at a soft pastel dress in the window. "Look, that dress is cute. I think I already have too many outfits like this, so how about we go back to dresses?"
Elisa shakes her head in disapproval, steps in front of the display to block your view, and holds out a boys' uniform for you. "I think this will look great on you."
Your hands slide over the fabric, admiring its soft texture and perfect cut, but you still do not understand why you need to dress this way. Before, no one seemed to care about what you wore. So why change now?
As if reading your thoughts, Elisa folds her arms and says, "Aren't you tired of attracting only boys? Don't tell me you're just looking for a boyfriend."
"No, of course not..." You reply hesitantly, thinking about Mei and wondering if she would think the same about all of this.
________________________________________________
The silence hanging over the room was heavy. Elisa's expression was serious, and you had no idea if you should speak or stay quiet.
"E-Ely, don't you think it would be better to cut my hair when you're calmer?" You ask in a small voice, trying not to upset her. "That boy wasn't doing anything wrong..."
"You're too naive." She brushes off a few strands that fell onto your clothes. "Of course he was harassing you, just like many boys who try to do bad things to you. And the best solution is definitely this."
"Wouldn't it be better if we called our friends and asked for their opinion?" You suggest, hoping for a softer way out.
Elisa doesn't answer, and her silence tells you everything.
You look… different.
Now, reflected in the glass of a vending machine, you see someone who almost looks like another person. You have changed a lot, even though your face is still the same. You stare at your reflection and smile at yourself. Despite everything, it’s still you.
Fast footsteps echo down the hallway, and before you realize it, someone wraps you in a hug that is far too strong.
"[Name]! [Name], [Name], [Name]...!" Mei repeats your name over and over, rubbing her face against your shoulder. "I missed you so much! This world is so cruel, why does everything feel like it's against us?!" she whines, her voice rising into a sharp pitch.
"It's your fault for failing so many classes." Matt scolds her, trying to pull her away from you. "Wow, Elisa made some big changes in you in such a short time." He greets you with a smile.
His words caught Mei's attention. She steps back and looks you over from head to toe in a rush. "Why didn't you tell me this was your style? I would've picked beautiful clothes for you!"
"Do you like it? Actually, it was Ely's idea! She helped me choose everything."
Mei's expression shuts down instantly. "Wait, did she force you to do this?!" She turns to her brother. "You were supposed to look after [Name] while I was studying!"
"Well..." Matt looks away, unable to face her anger. "Elisa got pretty mad whenever a man got close to her, and I couldn't call you because I didn't want to distract you..."
Mei narrows her eyes at him but says nothing. She turns her full attention back to you. She seems especially struck by your hair, letting her fingers slide through the strands while she studies every detail. "She did a good job at least, but I admit I'll miss your feminine look. Unless..." She stops suddenly and stares at you for a few seconds, then finally asks. "Are you… like me?"
Matt tenses beside you immediately and places a hand on her shoulder, trying to steady her. Mei clenches her fists, eyes locked on you, her expression a mix of surprise and something you still cannot name.
Before you can ask what she means, a presence slips in beside you.
"There you are!" Elisa appears so suddenly it feels like she had been waiting for the perfect moment. She loops her arm through yours, drawing every gaze in the hallway. "Are you hiding from the girls again?"
Silence spreads around you. For a few seconds, no one knows what to say. Elisa’s unexpected arrival catches everyone off guard.
Mei is the first to recover, frowning. "Hey! What did you do to [Name]?! You should’ve talked to me before deciding anything!" She steps forward, clearly bothered. Her tone isn’t aggressive, but there is real frustration behind it.
Elisa looks straight at her, her stare as sharp as a blade. "This is between me and him. You spent the entire month in after-school classes, so if you really wanted to help, you should've tried harder."
The siblings froze, surprise written all over their faces. It was as if they needed to look at each other to confirm they had understood correctly. "Him?" Their voices came out almost at the same time. You feel their eyes fall on you immediately, their confusion mirroring your own. You have no idea what Elisa is trying to imply.
"Ely, what are you saying...?" You murmur to her.
"[Name], can we talk?" There is a softness in Mei's voice that you barely recognize. She holds your hand gently, as if she is afraid you might pull away. "It's been a while since we spent time together..."
You hesitate, unsure what to do, glancing between Elisa and Mei. In the end, it is Mei who captures your gaze.
"Sure." You step away from Elisa, feeling the weight of her stare follow each of your movements as if every step you take is a mistake. Mei lets out a relieved smile. "See you later, Ely."
You look away, hoping Elisa will not notice that you caught the hurt in her expression. Mei says nothing as she heads off, but she tosses a quick look at her brother. He gives a small nod, and you cannot shake the feeling that there is something between them you still do not understand.
The walk between you two is strangely silent, and you cannot find the courage to break it. She must be angry with you… right? You spent almost the entire month without seeing each other. Elisa never gave you a chance to visit, and Mei was too busy studying to meet you. Ever since you met her, she always seemed so in control at school that it never crossed your mind she could be struggling.
"Where are you going?" Her voice cuts through your thoughts when she lightly tugs the sleeve of your uniform toward the gate. "We're getting ice cream."
You stare at her, surprised by the gesture. She always holds your hand, so why is she avoiding touching you now? The question stings, but you swallow it down. Dark thoughts start piling up as you walk, and you try to ignore them even though they insist on staying. When you arrive, the two of you choose a quiet corner on the balcony of the fancy ice cream shop and take your seats. The waitress hands you two menus, and you look through them in silence.
Your focus slips when a finger appears over your menu, pointing at an ice cream under the section labeled ‘for couples.’ "What do you think about sharing this one?"
You look up at her, startled. Her voice sounds... different. A little higher, almost like she is forcing her tone.
She seems to misread your reaction and quickly looks away, embarrassed. "O-Only if you want to, of course! I don’t think I could finish one of these big ones by myself..." She twists a strand of her hair around her finger as she speaks.
"Sure, I don’t mind at all." You set the menu aside and ring the bell for the waitress.
Little by little, conversation begins to flow. Mei relaxes, and her voice slips back into its usual tone. The moment she notices it, she raises it again. You pretend not to notice, not wanting to make her uncomfortable now that she seems to be warming up to you again. She starts asking questions about the time the two of you spent apart. You begin telling her everything, until the subject inevitably reaches Elisa.
"So..." Mei leans in a little. "You don’t have anything to tell me?"
"...I don’t think so?" You hesitate for a moment, trying to remember if you forgot anything. "About Ely, I guess that’s it. I thought I’d feel lonely when she started chasing Matteo, but in the end she actually seemed happier without him around..."
Mei narrows her eyes and leans in a little, resting her chin on her hand as if waiting for you to say something important. "...You know you can trust me, right?"
You frown, confused by the sudden question. "Of course I can! Why?"
The same waitress from before suddenly appears, balancing the ice cream on her tray. She sets it carefully in the middle of the table and steps back, watching you. You thank her and she smiles. For a moment, it looks like she is about to leave, but then she discreetly touches your hand. A small piece of paper slips between your fingers before you realize it. She steps away and gives you a quick wink before vanishing between the tables.
"What..." Mei mutters, her eyes locked on the girl. "How disrespectful... doing that to someone who is already taken."
"Taken?" you repeat as you open the note in your hand. "What do you mean by that? I’m kind of used to this stuff by now, but... it still feels weird."
"I knew it!" she bursts out, pointing at you as if you were living proof of her suspicion. "You’re trying to hide it from me, but it’s so obvious!"
The accusation hits you like an unexpected punch. You freeze, unable to respond for a second.
"You are... You’re dating Elisa, aren’t you?" Her voice trembles between anger and disbelief, every word heavy with accusation.
Without realizing it, your fingers loosen and the note slips away. It spins through the air, carried by the wind as if mocking the moment. For a moment, you wonder if this is really happening.
"No... no!" You wave your hands quickly, trying to push the idea away. "Where did you even get that from?"
She folds her arms, raising an eyebrow as if you were the one acting strange. "Didn’t you hear? Even I heard it, and I was locked in my room!"
Why is she looking at you like you broke her trust? What could have happened? A tight, uncomfortable ache builds in your chest.
"Mei..." You begin gently, choosing each word with care. You place your hand over hers on the table, softening your voice. "You’re the person I trust most in this world. There’s no one above you." She stays quiet, so you keep going. "If you heard something, know that it doesn’t mean anything. People love gossip."
She glances down, staring at the melting ice cream. "The person I heard it from... was Elisa." You wait, giving her time. "Matt and I heard her telling people that you two were together... and that you were her boyfriend."
Her voice breaks, and the truth hits like a punch to the stomach. Now you feel the weight of it. Why would Elisa say something like that?
"That’s why I wanted at least one date with you... so I wouldn’t feel so guilty for taking so long. I know it’s not your fault if you trust her more than me, but... it’s not fair! I saw you first! Why do you trust her more than me? Did I do something wrong?" Her words stop abruptly when she feels something warm against her back. When she turns, her face meets your chest, and the contact muffles her tears, giving her a strange sense of relief.
She leans into you, curling closer and hiding her face against your body. Only a few shaky sobs escape. After a few minutes, you break the silence. "I don’t know why Elisa said that, but it’s not true. I’m not hiding anything from you. Are you upset because I changed my style all of a sudden?"
"No, that’s not it..." She mumbles into your clothes. "...So you really don’t have anything to tell me?"
"No, nothing at all." You slide a hand through her hair, feeling her body finally relax. "But what about you? Do you have something to tell me?"
Her face is still a little damp when she pulls away. She looks at the ice cream, now completely melted, then at the crowd around you, especially the couples. "I..." She stops, unable to finish, and looks back at you. The simple eye contact only makes her more nervous. "...Can we go somewhere else?"
"Sure! Where do you want to go now?"
"No, not now..." She steps back a little. "I’ll send you the address. Meet me there before midnight." Mei pulls some money from her pocket and sets it on the table. "Sorry for ruining our date... We didn’t even eat the ice cream. But don’t worry, I promise I’ll make it up to you tonight!" She gives a quick wave before walking off, and you return it.
But she does not get far. Suddenly, she turns back, rushes to you, kisses your cheek in a quick motion, and disappears again before you can even react. By the time you manage to process what happened, Mei is already heading down the stairs.
Smiling to yourself, you lean against the railing of the ice cream shop, watching her leave.
Something tells you tonight is going to be unforgettable, and because of that, you plan to prepare as much as possible!
You don’t really understand why you’re this happy.
Your humming echoes softly through the empty hallway, blending with the steady tap of your flats against the cold floor. Each quiet step seems to match the rhythm of your quickened heartbeat. Wanting to make sure everything is fine before meeting Mei, you decide to stop by the infirmary for a quick check-up. Not even the illness that keeps haunting you will ruin tonight.
You knock on the door but enter without waiting for an answer, murmuring a small “excuse me.” The lights are off, though the moonlight streaming through the windows is enough to brighten the room.
“I knew you’d be here.”
Your body reacts before your mind does. You jump at the sound, turning around with your heart racing. Elisa stands behind you.
“Ely…” Confusion slips into your voice. “What are you doing here?”
She slightly furrows her brows, and for a moment the air between you feels heavy. Whatever you said didn’t sit well with her. “What? Do I need a reason to come see you now?”
“N-No, of course not!” You try to explain yourself, though you already feel that words may not be enough. Looking around, you notice that one of the beds has medical equipment already set up. “You came to take care of me, right? I’ll lie down then.”
You climb the small steps, each one echoing in the silence around you. Only then does Elisa really notice your clothes.
“What is… that?” She points at your outfit. “Why are you dressed so feminine?”
She doesn’t answer, and you don’t push it, afraid of irritating her. You lie down on the bed as Elisa begins examining you, though her touch is rougher than usual. Whenever you let out a sound she interprets as pain, she softens for a moment, only to return to that same harshness a few seconds later. You can’t take it for long, so you gently move her hand away.
“I-I think that’s enough… Thank you.
But she didn’t let you pull away. The moment your foot touched the first step of the small stair, her hand closed firmly around your wrist. “Are you going to see her again?”
The coldness in her voice was so unexpected that you froze. “See who?”
“You know exactly who I’m talking about.” Her gaze slid to your cheek and, when she touched it, you realized Mei’s kiss-shaped gloss was still marked there. “Is that why you dressed up like this today?”
You tried to pull your arm back, but she only tightened her grip.
“You were doing so well… until she came back.” Elisa’s breathing grew heavier, and now it felt like she was talking more to herself than to you. “I did everything so you’d confess to me. Why haven’t you done it yet?”
While she spiraled into her own thoughts, you took the chance to glance at the clock on the wall. If you didn’t leave soon, you’d risk being late for your date.
“Maybe I’ll have to use a more persuasive method…?”
Suddenly, your body was pulled backward, hitting the mattress with a sharp thud. A weight settled over your waist. When you looked up, you saw Elisa sitting on top of you, blocking any chance of escape.
“Plenty of boys would kill to be in your place. Why are you so ungrateful?”
Her words made no sense to you. Panic rose in your chest and you tried to push her away, but the moment she realized what you were doing, she grabbed your arms with both hands, holding you down.
“...E-Elisa, what are you saying…?!” Even exhausted, you try to break free from her grip, but your trembling body refuses to cooperate. “Please, get off of me!”
Her grip on you doesn’t loosen at all as she starts unbuttoning her uniform. “I never thought I’d stoop this low for a man, but here I am...” With her other hand, she guides yours to her breast, making you squeeze it and feel the softness against your palm. “Honestly, you’re not even my type. How did you make me fall for you?”
When you understand what she intends to do, tears you hadn't even noticed start running down your face. "No, NO! I don't want this, Elisa, please...!"
She doesn't seem to hear you.
The moment her breath brushes your face, you automatically turn your head to the side. The hand holding your wrist lets go only to slide up to your chin. Her fingers close around it, forcing you to look at her. Then her lips touch yours.
The kiss is unexpectedly gentle, almost a silent request for you to stop resisting. But instead, your body grows even more rigid, frozen by tension and the mess of emotions twisting inside you. Your senses only snap back into place when you feel her tongue pushing into your mouth.
While you're living through a nightmare, Elisa seems lost in a completely different world.
It's sweet... Your taste is unbelievably sweet.
She realizes it in the very first second. Nothing compares to anything she's felt before. Men always had a rougher tongue, a touch that made her feel suffocated, as if they were trying to dominate her with every move. But you... you aren't like any of them.
Her curiosity only grows. There's something in the way you feel that pulls her in, something that sparks sensations she doesn't understand yet. Guided by that impulse, she closes the space between you, fitting herself even tighter against your body as she deepens the kiss.
Addictive... She doesn't want to stop.
But the spell breaks when something sharp grazes her face. Elisa jerks back and brings her hand to the skin under her eye. Her fingers find a warm, slick heat.
Blood.
In your hand, there's a small pocketknife shaped like a key. She recognizes it instantly; it was part of your self-defense kit. When she looks at you, searching for an explanation, she finds only horror on your face. That single moment of eye contact is enough for you to snap back to yourself and shove her away with every bit of strength you have, pushing her off you as if your life depends on it.
Before Elisa can even process what just happened, you've already crossed the doorway of the infirmary.
Even after everything, you still refuse to stay with her?
She has exactly what any man would dream of. An attractive body, full breasts, striking thighs... and yet…
What’s wrong? Why doesn’t the one she wants above anyone else want her back?
Her fingers tighten around the hem of her uniform skirt, nearly wrinkling the fabric.
No. She won't accept that. After everything she waited for, everything she endured, she won’t let you just walk away.
Her hand shakes as she pulls her phone from her pocket, gripping it like it’s the last hope she has left. She starts typing in a rush, not caring about the tears falling and blurring the screen.
You run without stopping until your legs start to tingle, which happens far too quickly considering how many times you fell along the way.
The pocketknife is still firm in your hand, but just looking at the blood on the blade is enough to drain the warmth from your face. You don’t want to use it again.
Your mind keeps telling you to go back to the dorm, lock the door and only come out when you feel safe. But you know you can’t leave Mei behind.
You take a few long breaths, trying to recover your strength, until the sound of a notification breaks the silence. When you grab your phone, you see a message from Mei.
MeiMei <3: “Did you get lost?”
“I know it’s a long walk for you, so rest whenever you can”
“I’m excited to see you!!”
A smile grows on your lips. She’s always been like that, hasn’t she?
Those messages alone are enough to slow the frantic pace of your heartbeat. You can’t ruin the night by telling her what happened. That can wait.
Your footsteps echo through the street. Normally you’d be scared, but excitement wins this time. You follow the address until you stop in front of a patch of tall grass.
After checking the paper twice, you realize you're in the right place. The confusion lasts only a moment before another sheet catches the wind and lands at your feet. You crouch down, pick it up and see a drawing. It’s an arrow pointing forward and, beneath it, a sketch of a smiling girl.
You recognize Mei’s style instantly.
As you keep walking, you find several more drawings. Each one points in a different direction and shows a new illustration. In every drawing, the girl has a different expression, but all of them overflow with the same contagious joy. By the end of the trail, you find yourself in what looks like a small clearing, though it’s still quite dark. The only light comes from a lantern that also casts a warm glow over a silhouette. One you’d recognize anywhere.
You move forward slowly, careful not to step on any flowers, and little by little the path becomes clearer. When you get close, Mei doesn’t turn around, but the subtle tension in her posture tells you she knows you're there. Not wanting to break the peaceful silence, you step beside her and look in the same direction.
"Look." She points at the sky, where a soft constellation glimmers. "Doesn’t it look like a dolphin?"
"A dolphin?" You tilt your head, studying it. "It looks more like a horse to me." Then you spot another cluster of stars and point at it. "And that one? Doesn’t it look like a heart?"
Mei shakes her head, laughing. "No, silly! That’s clearly a triangle."
Her laughter is contagious, and for a few minutes you both get lost trying to spot shapes and figures in the starry sky. But little by little, the silence returns, even though Mei seems more relaxed than before. She steps away slowly and you hesitate, unsure if you should follow her, but she notices and gives a subtle gesture telling you not to. The lantern’s light barely reaches her face, making it hard to read her expression.
"You're wearing feminine clothes today..." Her voice is quiet, almost a whisper, but there's something in her tone that says she had noticed long before. "Is this... really your true self?"
Your hands brush shyly over the outfit you chose while thinking of her. "Well... you seem to like it when I wear feminine clothes. So I decided to dress like this today."
"So honest..." The word slips out bitterly. "You always do everything to please other people, while I... I..."
Her voice cracks, weighed down by fear and guilt. You take a step toward her, but Mei moves back, retreating one step.
"I can't keep doing this... you don't deserve it..." She speaks between sobs, looking like she could collapse at any moment. "I'm sorry, [Name], I'm sorry, I'm sorry... The truth is..." She stops, as if she needs to gather courage. "I-I’m not really a girl...! I only dress this way because it makes me feel okay with myself. It's what lets me look in the mirror without hating what I see. I can't stand the idea of stopping..."
Her sobbing grows harder, and you wrap your arms around her in a warm embrace. You don’t interrupt, just stroke her hair gently. Little by little, after whispered apologies, she calms down and continues in a soft voice. "That's why, when you dressed like a boy, I thought you were like me... That way I wouldn't have to change the way I look just to seem like a man..."
"Mei..." You pull back slightly, wiping her tears with your thumb. "You are a girl. Even if some people disagree or don’t understand, that’s the truth that matters. I would never, ever leave you over something like that." Your fingers squeeze her shoulders softly, trying to offer comfort. "Thank you for trusting me."
She nods, and a wide smile appears on her tear-stained face. "Why did I ever doubt you? You're amazing, [Name]!"
"We’re friends. It’s the least I can do." You pull her into one last tight hug before stepping back. "But why would you change your appearance because of me? I don’t care about that. To me, you’ll always be my Mei." As you walk toward the exit, you reach out your hand to her. "It's getting cold. Come on, let’s continue our date somewhere warmer."
"Your Mei..." she repeats, looking away before meeting your eyes again. "[Name], I... I have one more thing to tell you."
You turn immediately, giving her all your attention. "Go ahead, I’m listening."
"It’s kind of embarrassing, I’ve already said too much face to face..." She takes a deep breath and holds out a letter in a pink envelope sealed with a heart. "Here, read this."
Your eyes widen. The envelope is so typically Mei that it's almost painfully cute, covered in tiny, shiny stickers. But when you reach out to grab it, an unexpected gust of wind snatches the letter from your fingers.
Mei lets out a surprised gasp and tries to grab it, but the envelope flies straight into the forest.Before you can even think, your legs are already moving.
"[Name]! Where are you going? I-It's fine, you don't need to do that!" Mei's voice echoes behind you.
"I-I'll be right back, I promise!" You shout over your shoulder before disappearing between the trees. After a few minutes of walking, your legs finally give out and you lean against a damp tree trunk, trying to catch your breath. You know it's dangerous to wander off like this, but that letter was meant only for you, and you can't lose it.
Determined, you begin scanning the moist forest floor, pushing aside leaves and branches as you move forward. After several minutes of searching, something near the riverbank catches your eye.
It looks like your letter!
You throw yourself toward it without thinking twice and drop to your knees, the rough stones scraping your skin, but the pain means nothing now.
The letter is slightly soaked, its edges rippled from the water, but it still looks intact enough to read. You grab it and press it against your chest, closing your eyes as you draw in a deep breath. You should head back. Mei will start worrying if you take too long.
And as if your thoughts had called her, a voice echoes through the trees: "[Name]! Where did you go?! [Name], [Name]!"
You try to get up to answer, but a gloved hand clamps over your mouth and nose before you can make a sound. Your body reacts on instinct, your hand going straight to your pocket for the pocketknife. The attacker seems to anticipate it and tears the blade from your grip with ease. But when they pull their hand away from your mouth, you seize the moment and scream for Mei with everything your lungs can give.
Just as the lack of air threatens to make you pass out, your body is hurled forward. You cling to the edge of the bank, desperate not to fall into the water. Dizzy, your vision slowly clears, and the only thing you manage to see is Mei being thrown into the river. She thrashes and struggles to keep herself up, and even with the muffled ringing in your ears, it's obvious she’s screaming for you, fighting to survive.
Panic floods your chest. She... she can't swim?!
With almost no strength left, you try to push yourself up, each movement costing every bit of effort you have. But before you can rise, a violent blow slams into your head, knocking you back to the ground and plunging you into darkness.
Your vision is so blurry that for a moment you think you've gone blind. But as your senses slowly return, you realize your eyes are covered by a tight blindfold pressing against your head like it’s trying to crush it. Your mouth is sealed with something you recognize as tape, muffling your breathing and every attempt to speak. Your arms are completely numb, and the hot, burning sting around your wrists makes it clear they’ve been tied with rope.
Several minutes pass before your memory starts crawling back, bringing a wave of panic with it. What happened to Mei after you blacked out?!
You try to make a sound, anything that might catch someone's attention if anyone is nearby. There are no signs of movement, but the noise you make triggers something else. The metallic click of a lock echoes in the room, followed by a rush of cold air as a door opens. You flinch at the sudden chill.
Footsteps echo above you, each one sounding like someone coming down a set of stairs. When the steps finally stop, a deep voice breaks the silence, low enough to sound almost teasing. "Damn... I thought I'd killed you by accident." He lets out a short laugh. "Rose would have destroyed me if that happened."
You try to respond, but the tape over your mouth turns everything into faint, confused murmurs. Even without seeing anything, you can't ignore the presence leaning in front of you, heavy and invasive, filling every inch of your personal space.
"I knew getting to you would be complicated. You're always surrounded by bodyguards..." The man walks slowly around you, as if he's studying every angle of you. "She was smart to earn your trust. I just didn’t think she'd go as far as pretending to date you."
A cold shock runs through your stomach. How are you supposed to explain that he grabbed the wrong person? That you don't even know who the hell Rose is?
He ignores your attempts to speak, moving on as if you hadn't made a sound at all.
"But I have to thank you." Something metallic scrapes across the floor, maybe a chain, maybe a can. You can’t tell. "You're the one supporting her now, right? Because she’s not the way she used to be." His breathing changes, growing heavier, like the memory physically angers him. "I still remember that pathetic little thing begging for food... or maybe just attention, since not even her own parents cared about her. And look where she is now, fooling men and even women with that pretty face, while I’m the one depending on her."
Before you can process the words, a firm hand grabs your chin and forces your head upward. "But I admit, you're more attractive up close." He tilts your face from side to side, examining you. "When she paid me to follow you, I didn’t think you’d be worth the effort."
Your whole body locks. So he's the stalker who kept tailing you when you first started school!
"And since you're going to die anyway..." His hand keeps gripping your face while the fingers of his other hand trail down your arm, cold enough to pull an involuntary shiver from you. "...I guess there's no harm in enjoying myself a little. It's not like you can stop me."
You try to fight back, pulling away as much as you can, but he holds you down with enough force to crush any attempt at movement. His hands tug at your uniform and panic surges through you. Between stifled sobs, you try to push him away, struggling to break free.
Sudden footsteps rush across the room, and before you can understand what's happening, the hands holding you are torn off your body with brutal force. The man spits out a curse, followed by a choked sound, as if someone has cut off his breath. Sharp, chaotic noises fill the air, the sounds of a short but vicious fight. Within seconds, something heavy crashes against the floor.
"Rose?!" His voice comes out ragged, like he's still trying to catch his breath. "Are you insane?! Or are you high again?!"
The other figure doesn’t speak. From the steady rhythm of her steps and the speed with which she moves toward him, it’s clear she didn’t come here to talk.
"Oh, great... Guess I’ll have to knock some sense into you myself..." He doesn't even finish the sentence before more violent sounds explode through the room, followed by a woman’s scream. A scream that, for some reason, feels strangely familiar to you.
Heavy breathing fills the silence for a few seconds. Then slow footsteps begin to approach, each one closer than the last. Suddenly, the blindfold is ripped off your face and harsh light forces your eyes open. A man stands right in front of you. He doesn’t look away from your face for even a second. He only lifts his hand and points to the empty space behind him.
"Do you see that woman? It was her. She's the reason you're here, she's the one who..."
The sentence dies in his throat.
Warm blood splashes across your face.
…
You don’t want to look.
Blood splashes onto your skin and runs down in uneven streams, and every part of you begs not to look. But your body refuses to obey. When the man collapses onto your thighs, his weight forces your attention toward the scene. The heat of the blood feels almost scalding, spreading too quickly across your skin.
Your eyes lock on the open wound at the back of his neck, a deep gap you cannot look away from. It is as if your muscles reject any attempt at movement.
You have never witnessed anything so explicit. Not even during the years you spent in the hospital had you seen anything close to this.
"What kind of pervert tries to do something like that to such a young boy...?"
The voice is unmistakable, yet you fight the recognition, as if denying it could reshape reality.
"If you keep staring for too long, you will end up traumatized, sweetheart."
The fallen body is dragged away from you. The movement leaves a dark trail of blood behind it, a thin line stretching across the floor. Once she pulls him far enough, she returns to you. She crouches right in front of you, filling your entire field of vision.
Elisa’s smile blooms the moment she sees you, bright and almost out of place in a scene like this. "Hi, hi!" She waves before gently removing the tape from your mouth. "Sorry it took so long. It was hard to catch him off guard."
When you do not answer, she runs her hand through your hair, slow and soft, as if comforting a child. "There, there..." She whispers the words while checking your bound arms and legs. Her fingers touch the reddened skin around the ropes. "Even if you probably cannot run, I don’t want to take any chances.”
“Who…” Your voice comes out thin, almost unrecognizable. “Who are you…?”
Elisa lifts her eyebrows but doesn’t answer. Instead, she walks over to the corpse and, with a disturbingly casual air, rolls it onto its side and inspects it as if evaluating an object. “Don’t tell me he hit you so hard you lost your memory.” She remarks, pulling a cleaver from her backpack, its edge catching the light. “Well… I was a little dizzy myself the first time I saw this much blood.”
Your eyes widen the moment she raises the blade. “Wait, what are you doing?!”
Elisa doesn’t hesitate. The wet sound of metal cutting into flesh is her only reply for a few seconds. “I’m trying to get us some food, isn’t it obvious?” She says it lightly, as if talking about something trivial. Only then does she lift her head, meeting your gaze with a mocking look. “Or is this too disgusting for the spoiled prince?”
You can barely process what you’re seeing. Does she really not grasp how insane this is?
“He told me your name is Rose.” You pause, trying to gather your thoughts.
“What else did you lie about? How did you get into the school? Where did the money come from? How…”
She cuts you off by pressing a scalpel toward your mouth, a strip of still-bleeding meat hanging from its tip. “So many questions coming from that pretty little mouth.” She brings the food closer to your lips. “You need to eat.”
You turn your head away, disgust twisting your stomach. “There’s no way I’m…”
Elisa shoves the piece toward you with no restraint. The edge of the scalpel scrapes your lips, opening a small cut that burns instantly. You brace yourself to spit it out, but she grabs your cheek, forcing you to face her. “I’m tired of this arrogance. Where did all that fierceness come from?” Her grip tightens, her face inches from yours. “Eat.”
Her stare terrifies you, but your dignity still pushes back. You shake your head, refusing, tears spilling hot down your face. She pauses then, her hold on you loosening. The moment you’re free, you spit the meat out, the metallic taste of blood clinging stubbornly to your tongue.
“…Sorry.” Her voice drops to a murmur as she starts untying your legs. “I was just messing around. I only needed to remove a few parts to sell on the black market.” She wipes your tears with her thumb as if the gesture were affectionate, giving you a smile that feels painfully out of place. “I know you have a refined palate. I don’t want to change that.”
You can’t bring yourself to answer. You only stare at Elisa in pure horror, unable even to look in the direction of the body.
“I wouldn’t stoop that low either, but I felt insulted when you refused the food.” She moves to your hands, untying them with more care this time. “I’ll do what I can to get money for us.”
The moment your arms are free, you try to stand, but your legs refuse to obey.
“We need to go, the police are going crazy looking for you, but first...” She takes your hand and guides it toward the cleaver and the scalpel, forcing your fingers around them. When you look up at her, confused, she finishes, “Getting rid of the witnesses won’t be enough. I need your fingerprints on the weapons.”
Witnesses?
You drop the tools instantly, the clatter echoing between you. But it’s already useless. You know it, and she knows it too. “What do you mean witnesses? It wasn’t just him who…”
The memory hits you like lightning. Is Mei…
She only smiles. When she notices your tears still streaming down your face, her voice softens even more. “I know it’s a huge change… but I didn’t have any other choice.” She slips an arm under your shoulders, pulling you closer and letting you lean against her. “When I found you, I thought we’d live surrounded by luxury…” She forces a small smile. “But it’s alright. I can handle this.”
You both start walking toward the exit, and her voice keeps flowing, filling the air around you.
“I’ll work hard for the two of us. I’ll become the best doctor I can, for you.” She presses you closer when the cold wind hits as you step outside. “You’re just… broken. Once I'm fixing you, I’m sure you’ll be the perfect prince.”
When you reach a parked car, she opens the back door and guides you inside.
“I can play the prince for a little while, at least until you get better.” She closes the door and walks around to the front, settling into the driver’s seat and peeling off her bloodstained gloves. “When the time comes… you’ll take care of me, won’t you?”
But your mind is so far away you don’t even register her question.
You begged your parents to get you out of that hospital… and now you might be heading into something even worse.
Your parents… Will you ever see them again? And your friends?
The siblings’ faces rise in your mind. Will Matt be able to handle what happened?
…And that letter you received. What did it say?
Not even the person who wrote it can tell you now. You’ll probably never know.
You take a deep breath and turn your gaze to the window. Maybe your parents were right. Maybe leaving the hospital really was too dangerous for you. Maybe you truly weren’t ready to live outside.
…You just hope they forgive you.
And that they don’t give up on you.
His voice breaks the quiet as he sits on the edge of the bed. “I scheduled another therapy session for you. Three o’clock.”
A muffled groan comes from beneath the pillow pressed over her face. “I don’t want to go.” She stretches her arm out and points toward the desk, where papers are sorted into neat stacks. “I have too much work.”
He raises an eyebrow. “Work? But everything is already organized…” The words fade the moment he notices what she’s holding.
It’s a photo of you.
“You know she wouldn’t want to see you like this.”
The room sinks into silence. Only after several long seconds does her voice return, still buried under the pillow. “Good thing she isn’t here, then.”
His hand slides over his sister’s hair, trying to offer some kind of support. It takes a while, but eventually she lifts her head just enough, her eyes fixed on the wall. “Why didn’t she take us with her?”
“What do you mean?” He leans in, puzzled.
“We could’ve helped her… helped hide the body. She wouldn’t have had to disappear like that.” She finally turns to him, doubt clouding her expression. “Did she not trust us?”
He shakes his head. “The case is marked as closed, there’s nothing else we can do.” His phone vibrates, and he pulls it from his pocket. “The (Last Name) family is asking about you.”
“…They are?”
“Yeah, they want us to have dinner with them.”
She hides her face again, making him sigh. “They’re worried about you. They were the ones who helped find another therapist for your sessions.”
Matteo feels his hope slipping as he prepares to give up. Then, suddenly, Mei sits up and stands. “You are right. I can’t let (Name)’s name be forgotten.” She heads straight for the wardrobe. “I want her company to be ready for when she comes back.”
The hallway carried a sharp, metallic scent of disinfectant. They stepped aside to let rushing patients pass, and the older brother kept his arm around his sister, guiding her with quiet care. Every so often, he gave her arm a gentle squeeze, a discreet attempt to steady the tremor that kept returning to her face.
“Who are you looking for?” Matteo asked when he noticed her restless gaze shifting from one end of the corridor to the other.
Her eyes widened for a brief second before she managed to hide it. She lowered her gaze to the floor, her voice barely audible. “No one…”
He nodded lightly without pushing further, even though he already knew the truth.
“We’re here.”
Mei stared at the doorknob for a few seconds, frozen. When her brother reached out to take it, she stepped back.
“Do you want me to go in with you?” he asked, taking one of her hands in his.
“No… it’s fine.” She inhaled deeply, wrapped her fingers around the doorknob, and opened the door just enough to peek inside, though she hesitated. Before stepping through, she turned to him. “Don’t disappear, okay?”
Matteo gave her a small smile and leaned in to press a kiss to her forehead. “I’ll be right here. Waiting for you.”
Mei’s eyes softened, and she pulled him into one last hug before entering the room.
“Excuse me…”
The moment she steps through the door, her eyes widen at the sight of the woman seated at the desk.
“Good morning!” the therapist greets, surprise flickering across her face. “Mei, right? Please, make yourself comfortable.”
It’s too late to turn back now.
…
…
…
After what feels like an eternity, the door finally opens and Mei walks out into the hallway.
“Wow, I think that was the longest session you’ve ever had,” Matteo says as he stands up from his chair, sounding hopeful. “So… did everything go well?”
Mei nods. “Yep, we talked a lot.” She looks away, restless. “It’s good to speak with someone who also misses [Name].”
“The therapist knew her?” Matteo asks.
Her face drains of color before she quickly forces herself back into composure. “O-Of course she did… who doesn’t know [Name]?” She lifts the prescription in her hand. “She gave me these meds. I’ll go to the pharmacy and be right back!”
Without waiting for an answer, she hurries down the hallway. Matteo watches his sister’s silhouette until it disappears completely.
“It’s been a long time, hasn’t it?”
The voice behind him makes Matteo turn. Someone steps out of the same office Mei had been in. Elisa offers a polite smile and extends her hand.
“Wow…” Matteo shakes her hand with a professional gesture. “I never imagined you’d end up in this field. How have you been?”
“I’m doing well, thank you for asking.” She hands him a sheet of paper. “Here are some recommendations to help you support her. Since she is my patient, I can’t comment on what we talked about. I hope you understand.”
“Of course. No problem.” He tucks the paper away and gives a small nod. “Thank you. Have a good day.”
“Wait.”
He freezes mid-step and looks back at her, confusion flickering across his face. “Did I forget something?”
“You know…” Elisa looks away, almost shy, before gently taking hold of his wrist. “It has been so long since we last saw each other, and… I’m free right now, so I thought maybe…”
Matteo blinks, caught off guard. The idea of getting to know her again is tempting, but…
He glances in the direction his sister disappeared just moments ago. He can’t leave her alone.
A soft rustling sound pulls his attention back to Elisa.
“Thank you.” Matteo says, looking down at the card she just handed him. But something on the floor catches his eye. He leans slightly. “I think you dropped someth…”
The words die in his throat.
It is a photo.
A photo of you.
But it isn’t an old one like the one Mei keeps. It shows you older.
And right behind it there is another picture, this one from school. You stand beside him and his sister, although the photo has been torn so that both of them were removed. You look almost unchanged since the last time…
Matteo can stare for only a few seconds before Elisa snatches the picture from his hand.
“Don’t touch other people’s things without permission.”
Her expression twists with anger, so sudden and sharp that Matteo steps back. He has never seen her look like that.
Elisa tries to recover her composure, but the forced smile doesn’t reach her eyes. “It’s fine.” She checks her watch as if nothing happened. “I’ll see you at the next appointment.”
In the blink of an eye, she is already halfway down the hallway.
What was… that?
The image of your photo flashes in his mind, and a sharp discomfort settles in his chest, the kind that warns him he has stepped into dangerous territory without realizing it.
He exhales slowly, tired, and begins walking toward the hospital exit. Without meaning to, his thoughts drift back to the criminal case from years ago, that devastating incident that kept Mei locked in her room for months… and made Elisa vanish from the map entirely.
She had seemed shaken back then, but her alibi had always been fragile. On the same day you and Mei left, only the two of them had remained in that place. Elisa acted strange… whispering fragmented sentences, asking odd questions, begging for advice on how to win a man over. And after that, she left.
She left earlier than the time she later reported to the police.
When he confronted her about it, Elisa only laughed and claimed she had been trying to flirt with him. He never believed that story, but chose to stay quiet. He knew that getting involved could stain the reputation of his own company. And no one survives untouched once an entrepreneur’s name becomes tied to a criminal investigation.
Depending on the accusation… Elisa was capable of anything. Back then, he had absolutely no idea who she really was.
Who she was…
The thought dissolves the moment he reaches the hospital’s main entrance. Outside, his sister is crouched on the sidewalk, playing with a small kitten.
Elisa… Why did she decide to treat Mei? And why did she seem so interested in getting close to him?
“Hey!” His sister calls, running toward him with the kitten in her arms. “I forgot my wallet. Give me yours!”
“Sure, let me just…” He slips a hand into his pocket and freezes. Nothing. “That’s strange. I was sure I brought it with me.”
She rolls her eyes with an exasperated huff. “You really need to stop being so forgetful. I’ll have to call Mom so she can pay for me.”
“Sorry, sorry…”
Mei never went back to being the same after the disappearance. She tries to look fine, but he knows the truth. He knows how much she has closed herself off since then.
He lifts his gaze to the large screen near the hospital entrance, where an ad for his own company is playing. Now he has connections, a solid reputation… He has even earned the trust of your entire family.
It might be an unwise idea, but…
“What are you thinking about?” Mei asks suddenly, tilting her head as she watches him.
“Mei…”
“Yeah?”
“How much would you be willing to risk for someone?”
She blinks, confused. “It depends! For my family? Everything! My happiness, my life, anything!”
Family…
“But sometimes that’s not enough…” She looks away, and he instantly understands whom she means. “And when it isn’t, you don’t just lose the person… you lose part of yourself.” She grows quiet for a moment, then tries to cover it with a smile. “That’s why you can’t disappear too!” she says, already dialing their mother’s number as she heads toward the pharmacy.
He smiles as he watches her walk off, then takes his own phone from his pocket.
What harm could it possibly cause? Maybe there really was a chance waiting for him. And if it worked, the reward would outweigh the danger. Whoever Elisa is now, it no longer matters. He's prepared for her.
The call rings for a few seconds, each tone echoing the choice he just made, until someone picks up.
"Good afternoon. I'd like to speak with Detective Cohen.”
Author’s Notes: This ended up getting a bit long, so I decided to leave it for the end of the story.
First of all, I’d like to thank @Crepezinhos. She helped me a little with translating some parts <3 (she could have helped me more if I wasn’t in a bad mood for having dragged this story out for so long, so this story will definitely have several mistakes)
Honestly, I didn’t like it that much. I didn’t want to write another long story again, so when I realized it had already passed 10k words and I wasn’t even halfway through, I panicked… I tried to speed things up a bit, but it felt more like “a slow slowburn at the beginning, then the LI suddenly going crazy out of nowhere, and a rushed ending.” Even though it didn’t turn out exactly how I wanted, it was fun to write! I’m happy that I tried to develop an idea I had a long time ago.
I hope it was enjoyable for those who made it this far! I see this more as “various scenarios with a popular yandere girl” than an actual story, but I hope the concept managed to keep you hooked at least a little!
Holy oh my gosh I just finished reading the ex crush x reader and it was SO good like I love your writing and it’s what I’ve been looking for and I’m js in awe and when i looked for more to read i saw the cheater x reader and was so ready to read it but it’s like rlly late so I js wanted to share cuz why not yk? ANYWAY hope you had/have a good day!!!
No need to worry about being late!! I didn't even realize how much time has passed since I posted The Price of Loving
I'm glad you enjoyed In Between Illusion and Obsession, and if you do read it, I hope you enjoy TPOL <33
I fear you may have to tag me if you make a second part to your Yandere ex crush!
LMAO unfortunately there's no part 2 planned. Unlike the first story I wrote, I tried to keep this one more closed so I wouldn't make the same mistake again
In The Price of Loving, I admit I didn't give Sasha much attention (which honestly wasn't my intention anyway), but looking back, she does deserve something too. That's why I'm planning to write a continuation based on the second ending. It would be something focused solely on her
As for In Between Illusion and Obsession, I tried to give both characters enough attention to make the story feel complete. The only thing I had considered doing was a one-shot or spin-off about what Henry's life was like when the reader had kidnapped him. But it wouldn't really be story-driven, more like an excuse to explore a yandere reader x victim dynamic, which I'd honestly love to write
Still, I doubt many people would be into that, so I scrapped the idea. I don't have any plans or ideas for a continuation, but who knows, maybe in a distant future
I am not exaggerating when I say that your writing is some of the best that I have read in a long while. From your last post I genuinely felt hooked, I already can tell that I'll go looking for it some time in the future just to read it again. You did such a good job at writing the story and all, it was honestly amazing
I'm so glad it had such an effect on you guys 😭😭 Thank you so much!! hope you read it again!!
You are happy. You have a good life, the perfect husband, and everything you have ever wanted, there's nothing more you could ask for! But everything seems to be threatened when someone from your past shows up to settle things with you. It’s up to you to decide how you will handle everything.
Tw/Tags. yandere, toxic relationship(s), pregnancy (mentioned), kidnapping, past suicide attempt, obsessive, emotional dependence, non-consensual touching, manipulation, mention of murder/attempted murder, angst, drugs, suggesting content. Pronouns are neutral, but the reader is implied to be AFAB, also they are a bit emotionally unstable. Let me know if I missed any.
Word Count: 18296
Art credits: xupi_ty & tosil_080 on Twitter
Your knees sink into the mud, and the blood running from your open wound mixes with the wet earth, staining everything around you red. You cry, but your sobs barely stand out against the heavy sound of the rain.
What have you done?
“This isn’t love, this is obsession!”
The words echo in your mind, making your crying grow louder.
“You ruined my life... I should’ve let you die that day!”
It was in that moment that you finally understood. You took his freedom, took everything he had. How could you expect him to love you after everything you did to him?
You try to wipe your tears, but your fingers are covered in mud and blood. They only smear the dirt across your face, mixing with the cold water running down your skin. Amid your pain, you don’t notice the quiet footsteps approaching.
Your crying stops when the rain no longer hits you. When you lift your face, you see a man holding an umbrella over your head, his gentle face marked by a worried smile.
“Hey, what happened to you? You’re covered in blood, and it’s cold out here."
You hesitate before answering.
“I…I did something horrible.”
Your eyes are slightly unfocused as you stare at the ceiling, lost in thought. Your fingers idly play with your husband’s hair, running through the softness of each strand.
Earlier you were observing his features, but you stopped when you realized it was just getting in the way of your concentration. Today is a special day, and you need to think about every detail so everything goes according to plan.
Your daydreaming is interrupted when you feel his head shift beneath your touch. A soft murmur escapes his lips, revealing the comfort he finds in your affection.
“What are you thinking about? You’re not usually this distracted in the morning.”
You jerk back, quickly removing your hand from his hair. "When did you wake up?! Sorry, I didn’t realize it was so late... I’ll make breakfast right away.”
He laughs at your nervousness and gently pulls you back. “I feel guilty for you always waking up early to take care of me. Let me help you this time.”
“But you work so hard every day. It’s the least I can do..."
“So what?” He yawns, rubbing an eye with the back of his hand. “You know what day it is. Sadly I have to go to work, but I’d like to spend as much time with you as I can.”
You stretch, trying to shake off your sleepiness. "Alright, you can cook with me, but let me handle most of the work.” You get up, already thinking of which tasks to delegate to him.
Isaac gets up with you, following behind. “I’m at your service, my love.”
And he truly was.
Even though you insisted on giving him the easiest tasks, he refused and insisted on doing the hardest ones with you. He seemed to have a natural talent for it, even more than you. You believe that if he followed the recipe by himself, he could do better than you.
“I’m having trouble cutting this strawberry into a heart shape. Can you help me?”
“Let me see what you’ve done.” You approach and examine the strawberry. The shape looks more like a square than a heart. “You’re struggling again? Are you sure you don’t want me to do it for you?”
“No way! Am I bothering you that much?”
“No, of course not!”
The muscles in his face seem to relax at your words, but still… You’re afraid he really thinks he’s bothering you.
He opens the cutlery drawer and takes out another knife for you. “Please, sweetheart? Sorry for giving you so much trouble.”
You accept and grab another cutting board, placing it next to his. “No... I’d teach you a thousand times if you needed me to. Here, I’ll show you again…”
You begin giving him step-by-step instructions, showing him exactly how each motion should go. You get the feeling he isn’t really focused on the task, but you keep going anyway.
And you were right. His eyes were completely focused on you: the way your fingers moved, the way your lips suddenly pressed together as you thought of a better way to explain something, the synchronized movement of your eyes. Everything about you was beautiful to him.
“Got it? Want me to stay close while you do the rest?” you ask as you tilt the board slightly, letting the strawberries slide into the bowl. With the knife, you gently push the ones stuck to the surface, helping them fall in. You show him the bowl and wait for his confirmation.
“I got it.” He places his hand on your shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze. “You explain things so well.”
You feel your heart pick up slightly, but try not to show it. “I’ll stay close in case you need help.”
You both continue cooking. While he slices the fruit, you watch him out of the corner of your eye. This time, his cuts are precise, and for a moment you wonder if you misjudged earlier. Maybe he really was paying attention.
Either way, you don’t care.
The sound of silverware fills the room, blending with the chatter between you two as you eat breakfast.
“I’ll be home later than usual today. I need to stop by the pharmacy.”
“But you already get home late most days...” Your voice is low, concern evident in your tone. “Wouldn’t it be better if I went this morning? I don’t like the idea of you walking around at night, Isaac.”
Your husband shakes his head in disapproval. “You know I don’t like it when you go out alone. What if something happens to you? There’ve been a lot of kidnapping cases lately. Haven’t you been watching the news?”
You haven’t, but it’s best not to let him know that.
“Still, I think it’s better if…” You begin to argue but stop mid-sentence. You don’t want to start a fight. “Okay, but why? Are you feeling unwell?”
“No, I’m fine. I just need to buy your new medication. The doctor changed the prescription, remember?”
You pause, trying to recall the appointment, but can’t clearly remember anything. “He did? I don’t remember that.”
“You’re so forgetful.” He wipes his mouth with a napkin and sets the silverware down on his empty plate. “What would you do without me?”
Even though he’s joking, he’s right. You used to have a good memory, how could you forget things so easily now?
“Don’t make that face, you know I love taking care of you.” He kisses your cheek before getting up to clear the dishes.
“Wait!” You run to him and grab his wrist, pulling him away. “Leave it, I’ll wash them! I don’t want you to get tired.”
He hesitates for a moment, then slowly places the dishes back in the sink. You can tell he still wanted to insist. “Alright, but call me if you need help.”
You nod silently and turn on the faucet. The cold water runs over your fingers as you rinse the silverware. He walks away quietly, and when you glance over your shoulder, he’s brushing his teeth in the bathroom.
As you wash the dishes, your mind returns to the earlier conversation. You really don’t remember the medication being changed. You never used to have trouble remembering things, but now it feels like small gaps are starting to appear in your memory.
It's probably the effect of the medication, but... It shouldn't be that bad, should it?
Well, what matters is that you need them. If the side effect is that bad, it must mean it's made from something resistant. There's no need to think too deeply about it.
Once you finish, you grab his briefcase and wait in the living room, looking out the window.
It’s cold outside, colder than usual. Maybe it’s a good idea to add another coat, just in case.
You open the briefcase and carefully tuck the folded coat in between the other items.
“What are you doing? I’m already dressed warm enough,” he says, entering the room while adjusting the sleeve of his jacket.
“It’s really cold out. The forecast says it might snow soon.” You hand him the briefcase.
He takes it and nods in thanks. “Thank you, sweetheart. I’m heading out…”
Before he can open the door, your eyes fall on a detail that’s become almost routine. “Your tie’s crooked again…” you murmur to yourself, stepping closer.
He stops where he is. His body stays still, as if he already knew you’d notice. Gently, you undo the poorly tied knot with both hands. The tip of the tie is tucked inward, so you smooth it out with your fingers. He patiently waits for you to finish.
“Am I cleared to go to work now?” he asks when you step back, assuming you’re done.
You analyze him for a moment before nodding. “Yeah, you can go.”
“I’m off then. Take care, and as always, don’t open the door for anyone.” He gives you a quick kiss on the lips.
“You too. Please text me when you get there. I love you.”
“I love you too. See you later.” He closes the door behind him, and you head to the window to watch him leave.
Once his car disappears from view, you run to the bathroom, lift the toilet lid, and carefully pull out the plastic-wrapped paper hidden inside. The list is safe.
You let out a sigh of relief. The bathroom is the only room in the house without cameras, the perfect hiding place. You tuck the list into your pocket and head to the bedroom to get ready.
After bundling up, you grab the shopping basket, lock the door, and begin walking down the road toward town. The house is isolated, nestled in a quiet corner between trees and fields, but still close enough to reach the town center on foot. You used to think Isaac was the type who would live in the city, so it surprised you to find out he lived somewhere so remote.
But you kind of like it, this way, it’s just you and him.
As you walk, you avoid shallow puddles and pass low fences surrounding empty lots. Slowly, the town starts to reveal itself, first the houses, then the narrow sidewalks and subtle shop windows with few decorations.
The first store that comes into view is the wine shop. The display window is decorated with old bottles covered in a thin layer of dust and a delicately embroidered cloth hanging with charm.
Your first stop is there. The interior is small and cozy, with a subtle scent of aged wood and cork. The owner, a woman with a soft voice and constant smile, greets you as soon as you walk in.
“Good morning! Planning something special today?”
You smile politely. “I’d like a bottle of white wine.”
It’s a simple answer. Over time, you’ve learned that the fewer details you offer, the better. Even with people Isaac is fond of, caution has become a habit.
After picking the bottle, you head to a nearby delicatessen. As you enter, the place envelops you in a comforting aroma of aged cheeses and soft hints of old wood. You approach the cheese counter, eyes scanning each block carefully before choosing a creamy brie, a mild gouda, and a generous piece of blue cheese.
With your basket beginning to fill, you stop by a specialty store for imported goods. You grab dried fruits, nuts, and a jar of fig jam to go with the cheeses. As you place the jar into your basket, you pull out the list and begin checking off the items.
“Nuts, check. Cheese, check. Fruit, check...” You cross out each item you’ve grabbed. Everything you need is already here, but you still want to add more snacks.
You turn toward the produce section. As you walk, you write the new item on the list, and it’s precisely in that distracted moment that you bump into someone.
The collision makes you stumble, and you grip the basket tightly to keep from dropping it. But the person in front of you drops the fruit they were holding.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t...” The words get caught in your throat when you see the man’s face, and your own face pales. His hair is messy, dark circles under his eyes, and his expression is a mix of surprise and a kind of horror.
Your own expression must mirror the same emotion, though you hope it’s for different reasons. You compose yourself, set the basket on the ground, and quickly begin picking up the fallen fruit, your hands trembling as you place them back on the stand.
“I wasn’t paying attention, I shouldn’t have done that, I’m really sorry...” You keep apologizing until the last fruit is returned. “I’ll go now, I’m sorry again!” You don’t wait for a response and quickly walk away.
No, it can’t be him. Why would he be here now, of all places?
You grip the basket tightly in your hand and try to keep your pace steady, dodging people in your path and muttering rushed apologies when you bump into someone.
Is he here for revenge? Did he find out you're with Isaac? What if he comes after you now? You try to convince yourself it was just a mistake, a coincidence, maybe it wasn't him. But the way he looked at you... It didn't seem like that. It was like he knew exactly who you were.
You try to push the thoughts away, but they keep coming, all at once. If it really was him, what should you do? Pretend you didn’t see him? Warn your husband? Your heart sinks at the thought of telling him.
You’re just about to decide what to do when you feel a firm hand on your shoulder.
“Hey, hey!” The hand grips you tightly, forcing you to stop abruptly. “You almost ran into the candy shelf. What’s going on?”
You look at the man in front of you, hesitation in your voice. “Mr. Francisco... Did you see what happened?”
He frowns, confused. “What? No, I didn’t see anything. Are you alright?”
You force a smile. “I’m fine. Could you ring up my groceries, please?” you say as you start placing the items on the counter.
“But what happened? It’s also rare to see you shopping without Isaac.” he says as he rings up your items.
You move to the other side, putting the bagged items back in the basket. “It’s kind of embarrassing… I got scared by a cockroach. Please don’t tell anyone!” Your laugh comes out awkward.
“So that’s what it was? No need to be embarrassed, my granddaughter’s terrified of cockroaches too.” He laughs sincerely, and you feel the atmosphere lighten a bit.
“Your granddaughter is 9 years old, Mr. Francisco.” This time, your smile has a hint of real humor. You hand him the money. “I’m leaving now. Thank you, and sorry for worrying you!”
You leave the store, and only when you turn the corner do you finally exhale the breath you’ve been holding. Mr. Francisco is a close friend of your husband’s and was the one who sold you your house. Even so, he’s always been a bit nosy.
Your thoughts return to what happened earlier. Now, with a calmer mind, you can think more clearly. Why did that man show up on such an important day? You know you can’t let this shake you today.
You grab your list again with a huff. You still need baguettes and arugula leaves. You better hurry, you want everything ready before he gets home.
You keep walking, but now with much more caution, throwing discreet glances behind you. Maybe your disguise isn’t as good as you thought, because everywhere you go, you end up running into people Isaac knows. It almost feels like they’re making sure you’re okay.
Well, you won’t be rude.
You lock the door behind you and lean against it, releasing a deep sigh. The entire morning has passed, and your shopping took longer than expected. Ever since leaving the store, you haven’t been able to stop thinking about what happened there.
It would be better to tell your husband, but not today. You absolutely don’t want to ruin this day for him.
The silence in the house is so heavy that you turn on the TV just to have some background noise. The channel is airing the news. You don’t feel like hearing about tragedies right now, but for some strange reason, it seems to be the only channel available.
As you tidy the living room, the anchor mentions another kidnapping case, and your eyes fix on the screen. You feel like you’ve seen this news before, why is it airing again?
You notice the date, it’s from the day before yesterday. Why is the TV repeating the same report?
Feeling distracted and uneasy, you turn it off. It’s better to talk about this with your husband later.
You start preparing the food, slicing the cheeses and carefully arranging them on each plate, making sure every piece is the same size. Then you set the utensils beside each dish. When everything is ready, you place the food in the fridge, wash your hands, and grab your phone. It’s lunchtime, Isaac is probably able to talk now.
[You]: “Did you eat? Was the food good? I don’t understand how you prefer reheated food over getting something fresh.”
“If you don’t want to spend your money, you can spend mine.”
[My Addiction ❤️]: “I refuse to eat anything not made by you when I have the chance.”
“How are you? I hope you’re eating too.”
[You]: “Not yet… I slept in today.”
“I’m going to cook something now.”
[My Addiction ❤️]: “If I had known you planned to rest, I would’ve sent lunch from a new five-star restaurant that opened last week.”
“You can’t take your meds on an empty stomach.”
You sigh. He’s always been strict about that. You used to understand his concern, but your psychiatrist says you’ve been improving since the treatment started, so you don’t think there’s a need to be so strict anymore.
[You]: “I’m making something now, I’ll be fine. By the way, I have something to tell you.”
Just as you’re about to talk about the issue with the TV, a new notification pops up.
[Unknown]: "hello"
The number is unknown to you, and Isaac usually lets you know if a coworker is going to message you.
[You]: “Who is this? Are you a service provider?”
As soon as you send the message, you leave the chat, but the reply comes almost immediately.
[Unknown]: "i can't believe omg you replied!!"
"you usually block numbers you don't recognize, i thought this wouldn't work… i'm so happy... is this how you felt when i replied to you for the first time??"
"i didn’t think it’d be this easy to get someone’s number, i figured out the technique you used to get other people’s numbers!"
"are you proud of me? :)"
You grip the phone tightly. You feel like you know who it is, but his behavior doesn’t match his personality.
[Unknown]: "can't you talk right now? why are you taking so long to reply?"
You block the contact before they can send anything else. If it really is him, this must be a tactic to deceive you.
Still, you don’t want to deal with this right now.
[My Addiction ❤️]: “What was it you wanted to tell me?”
You tap the notification from your husband. Oh right, you were going to tell him something.
But what was it again?
You try to recall it, but no matter how hard you try, you can’t remember.
[You]: “I love you.”
[My Addiction ❤️]: “Something tells me that’s not what you were going to say, but I’ll take it.”
“I love you too.”
“I’m bringing you something special today. Wait for it.”
You turn off the phone and press it to your chest. Your lips ache from smiling so much. You can’t help it, he means everything to you!
Well, time to get back to preparing things.
It’s time.
Your legs swing slowly, overcome with anticipation. Your eyes don’t leave the door. Everything is ready, the candles carefully placed throughout the house, the scarf you sewed yourself, the ambiance designed with every detail just for him, the clothes chosen in hopes of pleasing him... There’s no way he won’t like it, you hope.
You try to pretend you’re not bothered by the time, but impatience grows each time you look at the clock and see the minutes haven’t moved.
He must be arriving soon.
You grab the scarf and stand from the couch, moving to the door and positioning yourself beside it. You wait in silence until you hear the familiar three knocks.
“My love, are you awake?”
You open the door just enough for one of your eyes to see him. There he is, smiling at you.
“I brought a present.” He raises an elegant package.
“How sweet of you.” You step back and open the door wider so he can come in. He enters and gently places the gift in your hands.
“Sweet? Today’s the day we met. You should’ve expected this.” He pauses, observing the room. “So that’s where that lovely smell was coming from… With the lights off, I thought you were asleep.”
“You should also know I wouldn’t let this day pass unnoticed.” You position yourself in front of him and bring your hands between the two of you, holding each end of the scarf.
“Do you trust me, Isaac?”
He tilts his head toward your hands, closing his eyes. “With all my heart.”
Your shoulders relax at those words, and you gently place the scarf over his eyes, tying it tightly behind his head. After the final knot, he takes a step back, and you grab his hand, starting to guide him through the quiet hallways of the house.
With each step, he turns his head, trying to catch the aromas in the air. First a sweet scent, then something more woody, followed by a citrusy freshness from another candle. The smells seem to awaken something in him, a mix of curiosity and anticipation.
When you reach the table, you position yourself behind him and place your hand on the scarf covering his eyes. You mentally prepare before undoing the knot.
You step back, holding your breath as he slowly opens his eyes, scanning the sliced cheeses, aligned wines, and carefully organized appetizers on the table…
Isaac approaches the table in silence. He picks up the wine bottle with one hand, removes the seal, and twists the cork until he hears the soft pop. Then he grabs a glass and pours the wine halfway. When he’s done, he gently swirls the glass by its stem, as if testing the aroma, then lifts it toward you.
"Won't you sit down? This isn't just my night, it's ours."
There’s a warmth in his voice, too sweet to be just playful. You slowly step closer, your fingers wrapping around the glass carefully.
Now that you’re so close, you can better see every detail on his face. His smile is wide, and his eyes shine with a happiness that’s impossible not to notice. He looks so happy!
Instead of bringing the glass to your lips, you set it down on the table. He frowns in confusion, but says nothing as you raise the red scarf again with a challenging gaze.
“How about we play a game?”
His face loses its softness, replaced by a firm and teasing expression. Isaac sets the wine bottle beside his glass and adjusts his tie.
“Refusing you is never an option for me.”
You nod and move to his place, pulling the chair out for him to sit. He settles in, and you push the chair back in. With the scarf in hand, you gently place it in front of his eyes.
“Ready?”
The anticipation in your voice doesn’t go unnoticed. He turns his head just enough to meet your gaze. “More than ever.”
You wrap the scarf around his eyes again and, after tying it, crouch in front of him, bringing your face close to his. “What do you see?”
“You know the answer. Nothing.”
Your hand slides back to the scarf and lifts it slightly. “And now?”
He raises his hand and squeezes yours, which rests on the fabric. “Now I see the love of my life.”
You laugh softly and lower the scarf again, adjusting it around his eyes. Once you’re sure he can’t see anything, your attention returns to the feast before you.
“Let’s see…” Your eyes land on the strong-smelling cheese placed at the corner of the table. You reach out, spear a piece with a fork, and bring it to your husband’s mouth. “Let’s start with this one.”
He takes a deep breath and tilts his head back slightly. "It smells sour... You're making it easy for me." Despite the comment, he leans forward and eats. You take the opportunity to take a piece for yourself. "After all, you already let me see the table."
You taste your own piece before answering. “I wanted you to see everything I prepared for you…” You pick up the wine glass and guide it to his fingers, helping him hold it steadily. “So? Can you tell which cheese it is?”
He slowly swirls the glass between his fingers before responding. “I think it’s… Limburger?”
And the game continued.
You offered a piece, he tasted it and tried to guess the type of cheese. Sometimes he got it right, other times he missed on purpose just to tease you and lighten the mood. You took the chance to comment on each answer with some information or curiosity about the cheese. The night went on relaxed and fun.
“In total, you got…” You remove the scarf from his eyes and point to the table, the plates arranged in two rows, the correct ones on one side and the wrong ones on the other. “Fourteen out of twenty, congratulations!”
He looks at the arrangement of the plates for a few seconds, then grabs the glass and drinks the rest of the white wine in one gulp. “Well, that’s more than half.” He puts the glass back on the table. “I’d say I’m a winner.”
“Definitely.” You fold the scarf carefully and leave it on the table. “Although this night was supposed to be a gift for you… I really enjoyed myself.” The last words come out almost in a whisper. “Did you… like it?”
You look away, nervous, while bringing your hand to your neck, trying to find the right words. He never liked it when you left without telling him, and now you don’t know what to expect.
“I really tried hard and…” Anything else disappears when you feel his touch on your cheek, you hadn’t noticed he had already come so close.
“All this was done for me…” He gestures around the room, as if genuinely admiring every detail. “How could I not like it? Everything you do for me, even the simplest things, reminds me every time why I fell in love. I can’t imagine my life without you by my side.”
You pull his hand away and hug him, squeezing him tightly against you. His body stiffens in surprise at first, but soon relaxes and wraps his arms around you as well.
“Isaac… Nothing makes me happier than calling you my husband.”
Your murmurs sound loud in his ears, and each word of yours seems to move his heart as much as his words move yours.
You hold each other for a moment until he steps back just enough to look at you. The warmth of his body is still present, and you feel his breathing slightly faster. “Since I won the game, don’t I deserve a reward?”
Surprise takes over your face before you push your husband away lightly, laughing. “Ah, you’re drunk! I should have suspected, you wouldn’t put down the glass while eating.”
“That way you hurt my feelings, dear…” He takes your wrist and gently pulls you towards him; you make no effort to stop him. “And I think you deserve that too.”
Your breath falters as he kisses the tips of your fingers, the way he looks at you stirs something inside you you can’t explain.
“All right, but only because you deserve it…” Your lips capture his before he has time to react. At the same moment, he returns the kiss with the same intensity, as if every second away from you had built an urgency that needed to be desperately satisfied.
The world around seems to shrink until only the warmth of his touch, the shared breath, and the racing beat of your hearts remain. He rests his firm hands on your hips, drawing you closer, as if your bodies were made to fit perfectly.
Your fingers reach the nape of his neck, holding gently as the kiss deepens, adopting a slower rhythm. Suddenly, one of his hands moves away from your hip and slides back, impatiently pushing the utensils off the table to make room.
The movement breaks your concentration, and you part your lips from his. He takes the chance to catch his breath, sliding his hand back to your hip and gripping it firmly to support his weight as he lifts you, resting you on the table. Without wasting time, Isaac dives back into your lips.
He bites your lower lip, causing a shiver that runs through your whole body. You respond with a gasp, sliding your tongue to meet his. The moment they touch, a wave of intense heat invades you.
When you feel the air completely leave your lungs, your hand that was on his neck rises to his hair, pulling it back. Your husband lets out a protesting grunt but doesn’t resist your grip and allows himself to be taken. His lips curve into a smile when he sees that you’re as messy as he is.
You release his hair as your breathing returns to normal. Isaac takes advantage of the moment to lean in, bringing his face to your neck.
“You look so pretty tonight…” He rubs his lips on your skin, and your head instinctively tilts back, exposing more to him. “Sometimes I can’t believe you’re really mine.”
“And only now you decided to tell me that?” Your hand returns to his hair, but this time only to caress it softly. “I’m impressed how shy you still are with me…”
Isaac snuggles closer, burying his face in your neck as if seeking refuge there. You embrace him and pull him nearer, letting him hide in the space between your skin. Unfortunately, the moment is broken when the doorbell rings through the house, shattering the intimacy that had formed, and you both turn toward the hallway, tension suddenly filling the air.
“Someone’s at the door.”
“I wonder who it could be…” You step away and get down from the table. Your husband says nothing more, but concern is clear on his face. “Don’t worry, I’ll see who it is. I’ll be right back.” You give one last squeeze to his hand before heading to the hallway, each step echoing in the silent house.
When you reach the living room, you press your lips, irritated by the interruption. It’s probably just another lost traveler who needs help finding the way to town. You hold the bunch of keys and take a deep breath, forcing a smile before reaching for the doorknob. “Good evening, how can I hel…”
The words die in your throat.
The man’s face before you is unmistakable, clear as crystal. The image you kept of him at the market, with messy hair and deep dark circles, has changed completely. Now, his hair is neat and combed, showing evident care, and his clothes, once wrinkled and sloppy, appear clean and well-fitted. He’s not wearing anything luxurious, but his appearance shows obvious care.
The world seems to stop as you stare at each other. Your legs freeze on the floor, and your body feels heavy as if unable to move. Your heart races so strongly you feel every beat. The surprise on his face is different from the horror on yours. You don’t react immediately when he holds your two hands firmly between his.
“I knew it... I found you! I finally found you!” Henry’s voice overflows with euphoria as he intertwines his fingers with yours with an intimacy that makes you shiver. He leans closer, and his warm breath reaches your face, making you instinctively pull back. “When I saw you today… I thought I was dreaming. I followed you here, but I couldn’t show up like that... I was a mess…”
“…Let me go…” You murmur, but he doesn’t react. It’s as if he didn’t hear or chose to ignore you. His eyes are fixed on yours, completely oblivious to your discomfort.
“There’s so much I need to tell you. I just realized everything now, I realized that…”
“I told you to let me go!” Your scream echoes through the room. You struggle, trying to break free from his grip. For a moment, you feel him loosen, but he doesn’t let go.
He pulls his head back confused, as if he doesn’t understand your reaction. “W-What’s wrong? I thought you’d be happy to see me…”
You barely manage to open your mouth before being suddenly pulled backward. Henry is pushed away, and instantly a larger body positions itself in front of you in a protective stance.
“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?!” Your husband’s voice explodes in the room. It’s so loud and aggressive that even though it’s not directed at you, it makes your body shrink immediately. “If you touch them again, I swear I'll rip off all your fingers one by one.””
Henry leans against the door, surprised, staring at your husband. “You... Who are you?” The coldness in his voice is so intense it seems like a different person, unlike the one who spoke to you earlier. He turns to you, and you clutch your husband’s arm. “[Name]…” He seems to hesitate before your trembling form trying to hide. “We’ll see each other later.”
And then he disappears through the door, walking away. Did he really give up that easily?
You can’t believe it. Even watching his silhouette disappear into the night’s darkness, doubt still lingers inside you. What was his intention? To kill you in the middle of the night?
That side of him scares you. The last time he was kind, it was just to deceive you, to lower your guard and stab you in the back. Does he want to get close to you and your husband just to destroy you both?
That thought terrifies you more than the first.
You feel an arm carrying you to the couch, and when you sit down, a warm hand starts caressing your hair. It brings you back to reality.
“Isaac... Are you okay?” Those are your first words to him. You admit to being surprised; he was never impulsive or reactive before. This is the first time you see him so upset. “I’m sorry, I know you don’t like this kind of situation, I should have prepared better…”
“I’m the one who should apologize.” He holds your hand. “I’m sorry, I should have come with you. No man would let his partner take a risk by answering the door to a stranger.”
“Don’t worry, silly.” You reassure him, forcing a smile. “Let’s end the night, okay?” You say as you get up and lock the door; the sound of the bolt seems louder than it should. He still seems restless, as if wanting to resume the subject, but he holds back for now not to upset you more.
“All right… I’ll tidy the table then. Can you make the bed for us?”
“Sure. Anything you need, just call me.”
You would normally ask to do the heavier work, but this time you let him take over. Hopefully, it would be enough to distract his thoughts from what had happened. You knew deep down this day would come, but you didn’t expect it to arrive so soon.
“...” Your movements stop when you notice a crease on the sleeves of your clothes, probably caused by Henry’s grip.
Henry…
He ruined your night with your husband.
You close your fingers tightly around the bedsheet, feeling anger rise slowly. None of this should have happened, it was supposed to be a perfect night. Why did he have to show up today of all days? It can’t stay like this. You need to make sure he never comes between you “You seem tense.” Isaac appears at the door, placing a tray of medicines on the dresser next to your bed. He sits carefully, trying not to mess up what you just tidied. “Try not to think too much about what happened. I’ll find a way to recover the camera footage and report him.”
“…Recover the footage?” His last words catch your attention, and you position your pillow in place before lying down on your side of the bed. “What do you mean? Weren’t the cameras recording?”
“They were yesterday, but it seems they stopped working during the morning.” He adjusts himself beside you, looking at the ceiling. You notice how tired his eyes are, his eyelids seeming a little heavy. “Tomorrow I’ll notify someone to fix them. It doesn’t seem to be a physical problem, so they should be able to configure the cameras without coming here.”
He breathes deeply, and silence fills the room. You feel a tightness in your chest, a mixture of worry and guilt for everything happening.
“I’m sorry about that.” You wrap an arm around his neck and pull him close. He doesn’t resist and nestles against your chest. “I didn’t want to ruin our night.”
You feel his chest rise with a soft laugh. He takes your hand and rests it on top of your hair. “That was one of the best nights of my life, don’t apologize for it.”
You don’t respond while you begin to stroke his hair, your gaze focused on nothing. Isaac takes the opportunity to bring up the subject again.
“…Who was that?” He murmurs, as if the question were more to himself than to you. When you hesitate, he understands it as a sign that the question bothered you. “You don’t seem like someone who has enemies, [Name].”
And indeed, you don’t. Who would even pay attention to someone like you?
“He’s someone from the past.”
He lifts himself a little to look at you, waiting for you to elaborate.
“…Remember when you first found me? It’s him.”
At first, he doesn’t move, but in the blink of an eye, he’s completely upright, with his hands resting on each side of your body. “Why didn’t you tell me this before?!” His voice rises, full of anger that, although not directed at you, he couldn’t help. “I would’ve taken care of it! This is serious, I’m going to…”
You stop him by pulling him back into your arms. “Don’t be like that, you know I’m the only one to blame in this story.”
He snorts and hugs you tightly, as if venting his anger on your body. “I don’t care, you were broken in the past. You didn’t deserve this.”
Broken.
In a way, you kind of agree. But can you really say you’re “fixed” now? In the past, it seemed like you barely existed among people, an almost invisible shadow. And when someone finally truly saw you, it was you who ended up hurting them.
What changed? Today, no one but your husband seems to notice your presence. And someone from the past has come back, perhaps with the intention of destroying you completely.
You think you heard your husband say something to you, but you’re too lost in your own thoughts to pay attention.
Well, you're fine now. You don't need anyone else's company besides Isaac. Your life is good, your husband is perfect, and you don't feel lonely anymore. You're loved now, what more could you ask for?
The only problem would be... him. You can't let him ruin your life now, not when you're finally happy. Even if you deserve it, it's okay to be selfish, isn't it? You've been through enough. You don't have to think about what might happen to anyone else but Isaac.
You grab your phone after making a decision. Your fingers slide across the screen until you open the messaging app. Finding the contact doesn’t take long, since, aside from your husband, there are only a few spam messages. When you find what you're looking for, you unblock him and spend a few seconds thinking about how to start.
[You]: “Hi.”
“We need to talk.”
Regret hits you the second the message is sent. Maybe that was too impulsive?
[Unknown]: "MY ANGEL!!"
"I can't believe you unblocked me, I thought I’d have to buy another number tomorrow."
"Are you okay? I’m sorry about earlier, I didn’t mean to scare you! I wanted to beg for your forgiveness the moment I saw your expression, but you seemed upset with me, so I didn’t want to make it worse :("
"Yeah, I should've approached you the way you did. The way I went about it, of course I was going to scare you by showing up like that… You're still just as clever as ever, angel!!"
You don't bother reading his messages again. It’s too late to take it back now.
[You]: “Can you come here tomorrow afternoon? My husband won’t be home at that time..”
“I’ll prepare us some afternoon tea while we talk. It'll be good to catch up.”
[Unknown]: "Yes!! Of course I can!!"
As soon as you get the confirmation you needed, you turn off the phone. You put it on silent before placing it to charge, afraid the vibrating notifications might wake your husband. Before you can turn off the light, you notice the pills Isaac left on the nightstand.
For the first time, you're glad to take them.
You swallow the pills in one go with water and switch off the light. While the effects don’t kick in, your mind begins rehearsing what you'll say tomorrow. It doesn’t take long before you drift off.
The sound of quick typing fills the silence of the house, joined by the steady noise of printed pages being released. You carefully examine the documents, checking if every bit of information is correct.
After reviewing each word, you organize the papers into one of the hospital folders you keep, hoping they look convincing enough. Then, you store the folder back inside the small cabinet in the living room. Despite how well-executed everything is, you still can’t shake the restless thoughts crawling through your mind. What kind of partner invites another man into the house, besides their own husband?
It was hard to act normal that morning. You had to hold yourself together with everything you had to keep from falling apart in front of him, begging for forgiveness for talking to someone else without discussing it with him first. Even with that thought, your desire to protect him is stronger. This is for his sake.
The sound of the doorbell echoes through the room. He's here. You mentally review the lines you rehearsed last night before opening the door, doing everything you can to force a polite smile. "Good afternoon, you're right on time. Please, come in."
Henry seems to be trying not to smile more than he should. "I-It’s good to see you too, [Name]! Thank you for..." He cuts off, like trying to remember what he was going to say. "...welcoming me into your home." His voice, once trembling with restrained excitement, now sounds calmer.
He's not very good at this.
"I’ve been waiting for you. Let me take you to the table so we can talk." Even before you motion for him to follow, he’s already right behind you. As you walk, you watch him closely, one hand resting on the pocket knife hidden in your pocket.
Henry doesn’t seem nearly as cautious as you. He's just looking around as if memorizing every corner of your house, like he’s on a school tour. Though he appears relaxed, you don’t dare to lower your guard.
"The table looks amazing! Did you do all this for me?" He sits in the chair, and you sit across from him. When you don't answer, he turns toward you, giving you his full attention. It’s time to settle this.
You both sit in silence for a while, unsure of what to say. When you’re about to begin, Henry speaks first. "Can I go first? I think I owe you more of an explanation... Unless you’d rather go, I don’t mind!"
"I don’t mind. Go ahead." You cut him off gently.
He takes a deep breath. "I... I’m sorry."
The surprise hits your face before you can hold it back. You don’t have the courage to interrupt him this time.
"I didn’t understand back then. I thought you were just some messed-up person trying to hurt me, control me, steal my freedom... But no, you just wanted to protect me." His voice softens at the end.
…What?
He leans slightly toward you, and your whole body freezes, except for your hand, gripping the blade tighter in your pocket.. "You were scared of others hurting me, so you had to take extreme measures. I get it now. You were right. I only need you. No one else. Just you."
What is he saying?
You don't notice his hands approaching yours on the table."When I ran from you, I thought I’d finally be happy. I thought I’d be free… But I was wrong. Everyone around me, they were all awful. They all left me in the end. I should’ve listened to your wise words, [Name]. You were the only one who ever cared."
He's scaring you.
"I’m back now. I want to apologize for everything. I know I don’t deserve your forgiveness. You were just trying to help me. Even after everything you did for me, I hurt you, abandoned you, betrayed you. But I’m willing to do anything to make it up to you. I’ll be exactly the way you wanted before, you still want to keep me with you, don’t you? I want that too. I trust you. You always knew how to take care of me, even when I didn’t deserve it. Thank you for showing me what love really is." His hands finally reach yours and squeeze them, firm enough to remind you who you’re dealing with.
He finished speaking, but you haven’t processed all of it yet.
This isn't Henry. What happened to him while he was gone? Has he lost his mind? His words terrify you. He reminds you so much… of who you used to be. And you hate it.
He hasn’t taken his eyes off you once, studying your expression. You’d better speak soon.
"Well..." You pull your hands away and rest them closer to you. He doesn’t protest, but his smile fades. "Before I answer you, I want to tell you my side of the story." Henry leans back in his chair, giving you his full attention.
"You know I'm... married now, right?" Something on his face seems to shift, but you continue. "When you left me that day, a man found me, and I've been with him ever since. Because of him, I finally managed to move on. I realized all the mistakes I made with you, I got the treatment I needed... I'm still in treatment, but I’ve been feeling so much better, like a completely different person."
You stand up and walk to the small cabinet in the room, pulling out a folder of documents. "I’ve been able to change, thanks to what you told me that day. I found something out during my last visit to the doctor, something I haven’t even told my husband yet." You sit down and spread the test results on the table, placing the main document in the center. "I had a blood test and... I found out I’m pregnant."
Henry can't hide the horror that invades his face. You hold yourself back from smiling more than usual.
"I know it sounds strange, I didn’t believe it at first either. The doctor said I’m going through a silent pregnancy and that I was lucky to find out this early." You notice his hands clenching into fists, squeezing hard. "All of this is thanks to you. I never imagined this day would come. If it weren’t for you making me see how sick I was back then, I wouldn’t be where I am today. Thank you so much for everything." When he finally looks away from the papers, you begin putting them back in the folder.
"You weren’t sick."
You don’t stop what you're doing until he speaks again.
"It broke my heart to hear that from you, [Name]." You can’t see his face now, but if you didn’t know him better, you’d think he was crying. "I’m not mad at you. I get it, you felt abandoned after what I did, so you went looking for someone else to fill that void. You don’t need him anymore, you can use me!" He suddenly stands up. You’d better calm him down before something happens.
He goes quiet when he feels your warm hands on his shoulders, pushing him gently back into the chair. "You're getting too agitated, Henry. I’ll go make us some tea, okay?"
Henry doesn’t say anything in response, but you notice his breathing seems to calm a little. You go into the kitchen and take the kettle off the stove, pouring the hot liquid into two cups. With the tea ready, there’s only one thing left. You take a small plastic bag of powdered arsenic from a secret compartment in the kitchen cabinet.
You’ve had this bag for years, but you don’t even remember what happened the first time you used it. You were so thrilled to have removed an obstacle between you and Henry that you didn’t even bother to see the result. Stupid you.
You’re just one gesture away from ending it all, but you can’t do it. Not for his life, but for what your husband would think. If you go through with it, wouldn’t you be proving to him that you still need treatment? That nothing has changed, even after everything?
No. That can’t happen. You don’t want him to still think you’re sick and keep giving you pills. All your effort, and his, will be for nothing if you do this.
Prove it, [Name]. Prove to him that you don’t need to hurt anyone to fix your problems.
You throw the bag in the trash and pick up the cups carefully, so you don’t spill anything. You just hope your story is convincing enough for Henry to leave you alone.
"I'm back. Sorry it took so long." You place one cup in front of him and the other on your side of the table. "I’m just going to put the documents away, then I’ll sit with you. No need to wait to drink."
You hear him quietly compliment the smell as you return the folder to the cabinet. You sit back down in the chair and take a deep breath, letting the scent soothe you. It helps you collect your thoughts. "Henry, look... I think, just like me, you should consider getting help if this is how you feel. This isn’t normal, and you know it. I’m sorry. I’m probably the one to blame for all of this." You raise the cup to your lips.
"Please don’t say things like that." He lowers his own cup back onto the table. "What did that man do to you? I spent so, so long looking for you... I kept blaming myself all this time, I thought you were dead! I felt like I’d lost a part of myself, but while I was going through hell to find you, you were with someone else?!"
You almost choke on your drink and lower your cup too, your hand moving to the pocket knife in your pocket again. "Henry, please, you need to listen to me, this isn’t healthy..."
"He’s messing with your mind! Don’t believe anything he told you!" He stands up and slams the table, hard enough to knock over the cups and spill their contents everywhere. "You’re better than this, [Name]! You weren’t like this! I guess I’ll have to make you see that."
You get up and back away from Henry, ready to pull the knife from your pocket if he tries anything. "Don’t talk like that about my husband, you have no right. We’ve talked about everything we needed to, now please leave my house."
He seems to calm down in response to your defensive stance, lowering his voice into something strangely soft. "If you wanted to kill me, you would’ve done it already." He walks toward you slowly, and with every step he takes, you grip the handle of the knife even tighter. "I thought you’d pull the same trick you did back then, but you didn’t. You didn’t have the courage."
In one quick movement, he lunges at you and grabs your wrist hard enough to make you drop the blade. He snatches the knife and throws it away. "That can only mean one thing, you still love me deep down. You’re just afraid to admit it."
Maybe from the shock, you’re starting to feel dizzy. "You’re delusional. If you don’t let go of me right now, I’ll..." A throbbing wave of pain floods your mind, and you reach for your head with your free hand. What’s happening to you?!
Henry’s grip vanishes from your wrist, and you take the chance to pull away and lean against the wall. Your breathing is now ragged. The man in front of you laughs at your condition, he looks proud for some reason.
"I can’t believe it actually worked." You try to push him away as he approaches again, but you can barely lift your arm. Your knees nearly give out, and you fight to stay on your feet. "Doesn’t this bring back memories? You used the same trick to take me to your house."
Your vision is the first sense to go. Henry uses the moment to steady your body against his. "Let’s go home, my angel. I’ll take good care of you, just like you took care of me."
The last thing you feel before blacking out is his lips pressing against yours.
You wake up somewhere comfortable, too comfortable even, though not enough to make you forget the unbearable pain pounding in your head. Your body feels numb and you are still a little drowsy. It is hard to move, but you manage to sit up. The drowsiness disappears the moment you realize you don’t recognize where you are.
No, this can’t be happening.
The memories from before you blacked out flood your mind all at once. That gives you the impulse to try to stand, but as soon as you put pressure on your body, your legs fail and you collapse back onto the bed. What kind of drug did he give you?!
Even so, you won’t give up.
This time, you try to lean on the headboard. Although it requires some effort, you manage to get up. If you use the wall and nearby furniture as support, maybe you can reach the door to examine the lock.
The journey to the door isn’t as difficult as you expected. The doorknob looks like a simple wooden model, easy to break. When you turn it, you are surprised to see the door is open. Is he really that careless?
You don’t waste time and open the door. The hallway is dark, but a light at the end reveals an L-shaped staircase. The way there isn’t long, just a little complicated because of the low visibility.
When you get to landing, you finally see where all the light comes from. Before you continue, you take a break to observe. On the right, there are some stacked boxes. On the left, it seems that a living room is being assembled or something similar.
“Angel, you’re finally awake! You are...”
A familiar voice comes from your right. You recognize it immediately, but the shock is so great your legs fail. You try to steady yourself and grab the railing, but your body is still weak.
That gives Henry enough time to reach you and pull you tightly to his chest.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry! I got too excited... I should have been more careful...” Each of his words is accompanied by an even tighter hug, to the point your feet barely touch the floor.
You let out an impatient sigh, hoping he will stop. When he doesn’t let go, you try to push him away.
Only then does he pull back enough to look at you. “You are having trouble walking, aren’t you? Do you want me to help?”
You press your lips together, feeling a mix of anger and fear growing inside you. “Stop trying to be nice. It’s your fault I’m like this. Who drugs a pregnant person? Aren’t you afraid I might lose the baby or die?” you reprimand him.
What really seems to affect him is the idea that something might happen to you. “That was careless of me, I-I know...” he murmurs, disappointed in himself. “Let’s sit on the couch, then you can tell me how you’re feeling.”
You don’t complain when he puts his arm around your waist and helps you get to the couch. It’s better not to upset him if you want to leave here as soon as possible.
As soon as he sits next to you, you ask, “What did you give me? Is it already night? Did I sleep the whole day?” You almost doubt your own question. Less than 24 hours shouldn’t be enough for your legs to be this weak.
“A-Actually...” He can’t look you in the eyes. “You have been asleep for a whole week.”
A whole week…?!
You can’t believe the words you just heard. What could have happened during all that time? Isaac must be going crazy looking for you!
The heavy silence between you makes Henry visibly tense. Your silence scares him so much he feels the need to justify his actions. “I couldn’t find the drug you used on me back then, so I bought another to replace it. I didn’t expect a single dose to make you sleep for a whole week.”
“Liar.” That’s the only response you give him.
He opens his mouth to argue, but your stare shuts him up. He knows there’s no argument that could convince you.
“To my knowledge, there’s no medicine that makes you sleep for a whole week. At least... not if you only take a single dose.” You don’t hide the accusation in your tone.
He shrinks in his seat and lowers his head in surrender. “There really is no way to argue with you, [Name]...” He murmurs before summoning courage to look at you again. “I swear I didn’t mean to upset you or anything! I-I just hadn’t finished preparing our home when I brought you here, so I had to do that so you wouldn’t wake up in a mess...”
You raise an eyebrow. “Preparing the house? What do you mean?”
“It wasn’t my plan to bring you here yet, it was more of an impulse...” He admits, scratching the back of his neck. “My intention was that when I found you, we would build a place together. Just like you wanted before. What I didn’t expect was that someone else had their hands on you, so I had to do what I did...”
You laugh scornfully and roll your eyes. “You brought me here without even doing the minimum? That doesn’t look like following my footsteps at all. I would never have made such a basic mistake in the past.”
“But I was desperate, just like you!”
You turn your back to him. He doesn’t deserve your anger.
“My angel...” He wraps his arms around your body, gently pulling you closer. “I’ll do better, okay? But all I ask is for your cooperation. Please, stay with me.”
You admit you feel strange. His words remain as sweet as ever. If you were still obsessed with him, you would fall for them without thinking twice.
Your dissatisfaction shows clearly, and he notices. So he tries again.
“How about we go out tonight? It’s a little late, but it might help you relax! Look how beautiful the moon is tonight!” He suggests, gently turning your face toward the window.
You didn’t expect him to let you out so easily.
It’s strange. He must be very confident... or maybe this is a trade. If you give him what he wants, he’ll give you what you want.
Alright. Let’s play his game.
“I think...” The hand that was holding your chin slowly slides down your chest to rest on your stomach. “The baby would like that, don’t you think? A walk will also be good for your legs.”
Putting aside how he has been acting toward you, he hasn’t changed much inside. Henry has always been like this, using others’ weaknesses to get what he wants.
“Okay, fine.” You give in and turn to face him. “But I don’t know how you expect me to walk after being drugged for a week.”
He thinks for a few seconds, then a smile lights up his face. You don’t like that kind of reaction.
“How about I give you a massage? I know how! I trained a bit in the past, now I can show you what I learned!” He approaches, trying to show enthusiasm. The idea of being touched by anyone other than your husband makes you uncomfortable, but it will be good for you. The less dependent you are on him, the better.
“I’ll accept.” You say while adjusting yourself. “But on one condition, you can only touch my legs. Understood?”
He quickly nods and stands, going to the drawer under the TV. “Whatever you want, angel. Do you want to lie down or sit?”
“I heard lying down is best.” You reply as he comes back with oils, creams, and a small towel. He puts everything on the floor and sits beside you, then puts his hands on your shoulders, gently pushing them back. “P-Please lie down and stretch your legs for me.”
You obey, but as soon as you look at him from your position, you regret it. It’s a bit embarrassing, but what didn’t he go through to earn your trust in the past?
Henry shyly looks away at the jars under the sofa. “D-Do you prefer oil or cream?”
“I don’t know, I’ve never had a massage like this before.”
He looks up, surprised, while taking the oil and spreading it in one hand. “Really? Seems like that man really wasn’t for you.” He quietly mocks as he spreads some viscous liquid on one of your legs. You bite your tongue so hard you taste metal. How dare he?
You take a deep breath and close your eyes.
Just pretend it’s your husband in front of you and you’ll feel better.
Henry warms the oil between his palms, rubbing until the liquid is warm and silky. He starts with your right leg, placing his hands just above the ankle. With long, firm movements, he spreads the oil, leaving your skin shiny and soft. The sensation of his touch combined with the warmth of the oil makes the tense muscles in your leg slowly relax. His fingers travel every curve, pressing and gently kneading the knots of stiffness, alternating between firm pressure and lighter touches, in a steady rhythm.
When he finishes, Henry wipes his hands on the towel beside him before grabbing the jar of cream. He opens the cream and scoops a generous amount, starting to spread it on the left leg. The texture is thicker, softer, and cold at first contact, creating a contrast with the right leg where the oil warms and slides easily. His fingers make slower, softer circular motions, requiring a bit more effort to spread the cream, but without losing the lightness in the touch.
The sweet scent of the cream fills the air as the difference between the two sensations becomes clear. The right leg, covered by oil, slides under Henry’s hands, while the left leg needs friction and extra care to absorb the cream. You feel the skin being hydrated and the muscles releasing stiffness with every movement as the massage dissolves not only physical tension but a part of emotional discomfort.
Lost in your own world, you don’t notice the soft sighs, sounds of pleasure, and murmurs slipping from your lips. Henry, hovering above you, feels his body respond immediately to each of those sounds. The desire inside him grows with every movement you make, causing his breathing to quicken and his heart to pound faster. Despite trying to control himself, he can’t hold back the excitement that overtakes him. His eyes catch every change in your expression, every sigh, every murmur, feeding the fire burning within him even more. The heat rises quickly, making it hard for him to stay calm. His hands stay firmly on your legs, but inside he feels an intense urgency, as if every sound you make is an invitation impossible to refuse.
"[Name]... A-Am I doing good?" His voice barely rises above a whisper, so soft that for a moment you wonder if you even heard it.
The enchantment of the moment fades as reality comes rushing back to your mind. You’re not in your bed, next to your husband, listening to soft music while he cracks jokes that draw a light laugh from you. You’re here.
"Ah, yeah..." You part your eyes slightly. "Yeah, you’re not bad at this." Although your words are meant to boost his ego, they aren’t exactly untrue. "I’m feeling much better now. You can stop, thanks."
He seems disappointed when you stand up, but you pretend not to notice. “Anything for you, my angel.” He picks up the items from the floor and walks over to the drawer. “I’m just going to grab a few things for us to take before we leave.”
“Wait.” You stop him. “Aren’t I going to get dressed?”
“No need.” He answers without turning fully, just glancing back over his shoulder. “You’re perfect just the way you are.”
You frown but say nothing.
“Sandwiches, pies, fruit, cakes…” You name each food item you find in the basket. “You really put a lot of effort into this…”
“It’s my first date with my angel in a long time, so I gave it my best.” He says proudly as he turns the car key in the ignition. “And you must be starving after everything.”
You put the food back into the basket. “Actually, no, and that reminds me…” You cross your legs before speaking. “I really hope no stranger touched me.”
“...What do you mean?” His voice is heavy with concern.
Sitting in the back seat, the front seatback partially hides their face. “You know very well,” you reply firmly. “You can’t leave someone unconscious and unsupervised, especially someone who’s pregnant.”
His hands tremble on the wheel, his body tense. He’s so predictable.
“I trust you.” You lie, turning your gaze to the window. “I’m sure it’s someone you trust.”
You wait for his response, but all you get is a shy “thank you.” You thought you might get some information from him. He probably doesn’t trust you enough to talk about others…
Too bad. You can cross the plan of asking for help off your list.
You rest your head against the car window, watching the city streets. With the windows closed and silence all around, you feel trapped and anxious. Whenever you were with Isaac, he kept the windows open and talked nonstop, you never had time to get bored.
Maybe it’s better this way. You don’t want to seem suspicious on your first day, after all.
The city slowly fades away, and the streets give way to forest. Trees line both sides of the road, and the pavement turns into dirt. You say nothing and keep watching the scenery change.
You don’t know how much time passes until Henry parks the car.
“Are we there yet?” You ask confused, trying to get a better look through the window. “I don’t recognize this place…”
“I thought this place would be familiar to you.” He says as he gets out and opens the door for you. “But it makes sense, your memories of here aren’t good.” He holds out his hand.
You raise an eyebrow and place your hand in his. “Then why would you bring me here?”
“Because I want to change that.” He pulls you out of the car, locks the doors, and gestures toward the trail ahead. “Let's walk from here. I think the walk might help you remember.”
You try to ignore the fact he hasn’t let go of your hand and start looking around. It looks like any ordinary forest.
That’s what you think before you look closer. Every detail reminds you of a specific place, one you never expected to visit again. The benches covered with dry leaves, the broken and dry birdbath, the signs so faded you can barely read them... And the sound of flowing water growing louder with every step you take.
“We are here.”
You turn your face to look down the path ahead. Even after all this time, the lookout hasn’t changed.
Your hand slips from Henry’s as you start walking toward the fence.
The ground is damp and slippery, covered in wet leaves. The fence looks more fragile than you remember, the wood dark and worn by time, with some parts broken or crooked. You stop in front of it, hesitate for a moment, then carefully place your hands on it and lean in to look.
The water crashes down hard, hitting the rocks below with a loud splash. The fall raises a fine mist that rises into the air and touches your face, leaving your skin slightly wet. The air around you is fresh and humid, filled with the characteristic scent of clean water and nature. The breeze that stirs your hair is refreshing, and you breathe deeply.
The view of the waterfall is beautiful, as always.
“Be careful.” Henry says as he covers one of your hands with his. “The fence isn’t as sturdy as it used to be.”
“Seems like it...” you whisper more to yourself than to him.
It’s exactly like that day, except you were alone.
Or so you thought.
The path is silent, only the sound of your footsteps can be heard. You’re wearing your best hairstyle, your best clothes, your best shoes, and your backpack, which holds all your favorite things. It’s been so long since you dressed up that you don’t even remember the last time you did.
You want to look around as you walk, to observe this place one last time, to engrave every detail in your memory. But you feel that if you take your eyes off the path ahead, you’ll lose your courage.
The sky is already brightening, the sun starting to rise. You feel a slight warmth behind you, or at least you think you do.
You can’t turn around to check. There’s no better opportunity than this, don’t risk losing it, [Name].
Your steps stop when you reach the lookout. It’s a shame no one else is here, they’re missing a wonderful view. Well, that just makes things easier for you.
Taking a deep breath, you sit on the fence and look down. The sound of the waterfall relaxes you, the way the water plunges soothes you in the best possible way. It gives you the courage to look back one last time.
The sun is like any other day, but… You feel like it’s special now. It will witness what you’re about to do. Smiling to yourself, you stare until it’s strong enough to make you close your eyes, this will be the last thing you see now. Although the waterfall view is your favorite, you feel you’d hesitate if you saw it one more time.
You turn your head forward. Don't open your eyes, [Name].
Your grip on the fence weakens and your breathing grows unsteady, but you try to ignore it. You feel your body moving forward until you’re no longer touching the fence.
You’re falling.
“WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!”
A desperate voice shouts behind you, making your eyes snap open immediately. You’re falling, you really are!
The fear is interrupted by a groan of pain from you as you feel yourself being abruptly stopped under your arms. Something is pulling your backpack, or rather, someone.
Your gaze breaks away from the landscape below you as the person above you shouts, “Give me your hand, I can’t hold the weight of your backpack and you together!” He reaches toward you, but you look away. This man ruined everything!
“N-No… Let go…!” You try to scream, but your voice comes out more like a trembling whimper. You feel tears starting to fall from your eyes.
“Are you crazy?! I’m not letting you go! Give me your hand before I fall with you!” He removes his hand from the fence and reaches toward you. His body seems to slide down with you, which pushes you to grab his hand, and he immediately pulls you up. When your feet reach the fence, you lean on it, giving him the leverage he needs to pull both of you up to the ground.
The only sound between you is heavy breathing for a moment. When he recovers, he sits to look at you.
“Hey!” The man exclaims. “That’s not how you solve things! You know what would happen if…” He stops when he notices the tears you tried to hide with your head down.
You lift your head just a little to look at him, but he’s looking at your backpack, which is half open, visibly uncomfortable. When he turns back to you, you lower your gaze.
“I… I didn’t mean to snoop, but…” His voice is soft and low now, so soft you barely hear it. “You seem to have some really cool stuff in your backpack. Do you mind showing me?” He gently moves one of the hands covering your face and replaces it with a handkerchief, wiping your tears. His touch is so warm…
“They do look pretty cool, especially that book there, or is it a notebook? I don’t know, but its cover is very pretty.” The man seems to be running out of things to say, your silence isn’t helping him.
No one ever cared about your interests before… It would be rude to refuse after what he did for you, you think.
Your voice trembles as you talk about each of your favorite things. You stammer as you explain the story behind each one, but as time passes, you calm down. His reactions encourage you to keep going, and you manage to forget what happened minutes ago.
You feel warm inside. He’s smiling as he talks with you, so that must mean he feels the same, right?
No one ever cared so much about you before… You like this feeling.
You don’t want to stop feeling it ever.
The memory is still fresh in your mind. It’s a little funny to think that a memory once so important to you is now one you want to erase as much as possible.
“That’s why I brought you here.” Henry takes the basket from your hands. “I want us to make new memories in this place. Good memories. So the old ones stay behind… And your smile will never disappear when you come here again.” He unfolds the waterproof tarp and spreads it over the wooden floor.
Good memories… That would be nice. When you escape, you have to bring your husband here.
You kneel beside him, helping to organize the picnic. The silence between you is heavy, weighted by his words. And although the contempt you feel for him is hard to ignore, the words slip out before you can hold them back.
“Thank you for saving me that day.”
If it weren’t for him, you wouldn’t have met the love of your life. All the pain ended up being worth it in the end.
“I think I’m the one who should thank you for trying something so absurd.” He sits next to you. “From that moment on, we began to belong to each other. Even if I didn’t realize it at first...”
You try to ignore what he said.
The picnic was... strangely peaceful. You sat away from him to avoid any physical contact, and he respected that. You talked about many different things, ordinary things. You don’t like it, why is he acting like this is a normal couple’s date?
You feel like you’re experiencing firsthand what he felt when you took him to your house. What a bad feeling.
“Time passed quickly..”. Henry looks at his phone. "It's already pretty late. Are you feeling tired?"
"No." You shake your head. "After days of sleeping, I doubt that’s enough to tire me out."
"Then how about we go down there?" He suggests, putting away what’s left of the picnic in the basket. "It’s a bit chilly, but I think it’ll be nice to dip our feet in the water."
The excitement in your eyes says it all. "Now I get why there were some towels at the bottom of the basket!" You smile, standing up and following the trail leading to the river. "This place looks abandoned for years… There must be plenty of fish for us to catch."
“O-Oh you wanted to fish? Sorry…” He replies, surprised, starting to follow you carefully, watching his step not to slip. “I didn’t bring any fishing rods, and...” He stops noticing you’re already far ahead. “W-Wait! Don't go so fast, angel! You might fall!”
“I can get down this with my eyes closed!” You shout impatiently at his slow pace. “Fishing rods are for the weak! Don’t be so slow.”
Without waiting for an answer, you go straight to the riverbank and crouch down. Your eyes try to peer through the water surface, where some strange movements break the calm of the river. Something is there, but you can’t see exactly what it is.
Henry approaches and crouches beside you. “By the shore, fish are usually small...” He slowly reaches out, trying not to scare the creatures swimming nearby. “The water is less cold than I expected.”
“Can you shine the light on the water for me? I think I see a big fish.”
He silently obeys, turning on his phone’s flashlight, casting a beam on the surface. “You’re right! But it’s a bit far.”
You take off your shoes and slowly dip your feet into the river, feeling the slippery ground beneath your skin. The cold makes your body shiver, but you don’t lose focus. Henry watches you curiously but doesn’t interfere.
You slowly approach the spot where the big fish is moving, lit by the flashlight. When you’re close, you lunge to try to grab it, but it disappears too fast, escaping before your hands can touch it.
In the attempt, your clothes get wet, cold water touching your skin and making the fabric stick to you. The chilly wind blows, and you wrap your arms around yourself, trying to keep warm. It’s freezing!
You feel a coat placed over your shoulders. “Are you okay, angel? Want me to get a towel for you?”
“No.” You take off the coat and hand it back. “Keep it. Let’s try to catch a fish together.”
You step deeper into the water but don’t hear him coming after you. When you look back, Henry is there, standing in the same spot, with a huge smile lighting up his entire face, almost like a child who just got an unexpected gift. He shakes his head in disbelief at himself, as if he can’t believe he’s really there, living this moment.
“I-I won’t let you down, you can bet on that! I’ll catch as many fish as you want! Seriously, as many as you want, I’ll catch them all! Leave it to me, I-I won’t let you down!” He punches his chest with a closed fist, trying to convey all the confidence in the world, even though the nervousness still shines in his eyes.
He’s slightly out of breath, as if the excitement itself took the air from his lungs. His eyes dart around, looking for some approval on your face. It’s almost funny to see someone so determined about something so simple. But still, there’s something genuine about his effort that makes you hesitate to ignore him completely.
You weren’t paying attention to what he was saying, and the sound of his voice wasn’t helping.
“You’re going to scare the fish if you don’t stay quiet! Here, stay by my side!” You reached your hand out to him, and he grabbed it immediately. You pulled him close. “Help me spot them.”
And that’s how you ended up there for a long time. Henry was incredibly fast. You would spot the fish and point with a simple gesture, and he’d catch them almost instantly. He used his own shirt as a net to hold them.
The shirt, now wet and heavy, swayed with every movement. The fish struggled inside the fabric, but he kept control. As the pile grew, so did Henry’s smile, satisfied with each little catch. You watched him from the side, surprised by his efficiency.
So fast... Any plan that depends on reflexes can be discarded.
You feel a sudden light touch, like a pinch against the skin of your leg. Looking down, you see a small but agile fish swimming near your ankle. Without thinking twice, you reach forward to grab it. For a moment, you manage to hold it firmly between your fingers.
But an unexpected pain in your foot makes you drop the fish immediately. Looking down, you realize you stepped on something sharp among the river stones, a pointed rock or maybe a broken branch hidden in the murky water. The cut starts to bleed, and the fish quickly disappears into the depths.
“Oh God! Angel, what happened?!” Your pain didn’t go unnoticed.
You click your tongue and notice the blood spreading in the water around you. Better get out fast before it attracts something dangerous.
“I think I stepped on something sharp.” You complain unhappily, it looks like you’ll have to settle for what you caught. “It’s nothing serious, don’t worry, I’ve hurt myself many ti—”
“Of course it is!” He wraps one arm behind your shoulders and the other behind your knees. “What if it gets infected? I’ll carry you to the shore so I can check it properly.”
You raise an eyebrow and cross your arms. “Since when do you care about that? You always said it was nothing when you got hurt and I took care of you.”
“I know, I know...” He gently sits you on the riverbank. “But now it’s my turn to take care of you.”
Now that he's no longer touching you, you realize how warm his body was. Makes sense, after all, you were underwater longer than he was.
Henry carefully holds your foot and begins examining it. You don’t dare interrupt his focus. When he pulls away, he looks relieved. “It’s not deep, but it will need treatment at home.”
His concern is like your husband’s, but what you find cute in your husband, you find annoying in Henry.
“See?” You pull your foot back. “I told you, I’m used to hurting myself in places like this...” The last words come out almost in a whisper because you notice he still hasn’t let go of your foot, and his eyes are fixed on you. More precisely, on your stomach.
“That was me, wasn’t it...?”
Following his gaze, you realize how see-through your shirt has become against your body, and the scar stands out the most.
A surprised sigh escapes you as you feel his hand slide under your shirt, lightly caressing it. It’s so gentle you barely feel the contact, only the warmth of his fingers.
After sliding his hand over every inch of the scar, he whispers again. “I’m so sorry, so very sorry...” His palm presses a little harder against your skin, fingers moving slowly, massaging the area carefully. “I mistreated your body so much... You didn’t deserve this...”
You feel your muscles tense under his touch, even though his movements are gentle. It’s uncomfortable, but you try not to show it. When he pulls his hand away from your stomach, you finally exhale the breath you’d been holding without realizing it.
But your calm doesn’t last long. “I know now what you truly deserve.” Both his hands are now on your body, roaming over your torso. The heat from his skin seems to transfer to yours, and you feel his fingers moving as if trying to memorize every part of you. “You deserve to be worshiped. Every limb, every part of your body… deserves all the attention and love possible.”
You hadn’t realized how close he had gotten until you feel his warm breath against your ear, making you flinch. After what feels like hours adoring your torso, he moves to your legs.
“Are you still mad at me?” He asks while squeezing the back of your thigh. Your leg moves back reflexively, but he holds it firmly, not letting you pull away. “I understand... words don’t compare to actions. If you want, you can...”
You feel his other hand wrap around yours, placing something metallic between your fingers and tightening your grip around it. “...do the same to me.”
It’s only when he pulls back a little that you realize what you’re holding. Your pocket knife. Pointed directly at his stomach. The same spot where your scar is. “Would that make you feel better?”
“I know nothing can erase all the pain you’ve felt...” He loosens his grip on your hand and slowly lets go, noticing you’re frozen. “But I want to spend the rest of our lives worshiping your body.”
“You will never feel alone again. I promise.”
You're back in your “home” again. Henry treated the wound on your foot, and to end the night, he decided to make popcorn so you could watch a movie together. Remote in hand, you flip through the channels mechanically, not really paying attention to what’s on.
Frightening.
Your mind won’t stop replaying what happened earlier. What’s wrong with him? He needs help. How can someone love a person they haven’t seen in years? Especially someone who’s hurt them so badly? His devotion to you is terrifying. You can’t make sense of it.
At least, not anymore.
Your train of thought breaks when you hear your name being said from somewhere. More specifically, from the TV. You scroll back through the channels until you land on a news report.
Wait... is that you?
A missing person report flashes on screen. Your photo appears next to the headline, followed by images of familiar places. They talk about the last time you were seen, the ongoing investigation, the lack of leads. It hasn’t even been that long since you vanished. How are you already being declared missing?
By the end of the segment, your husband’s face appears. He looks pale, worn down, his eyes full of quiet suffering. His voice trembles as he speaks about how hard everything has been without you. How much he misses you. How he’d do anything to have you back.
Your chest tightens so painfully it almost feels like it might burst. It’s as if something deep inside you is cracking open. You’ve never been away from your husband for this long.
How dare you enjoy yourself while he’s in so much pain? Your husband has no one but you. He must be so disappointed. Someone like you should’ve found a way out by now.
His absence feels like a part of you was ripped out by force.
"My angel! Look, I brought a few things…" But your eyes stay locked on the screen. Once he notices what’s playing, he drops everything on the couch and rushes over to the TV, switching it off manually. But it’s too late. You saw it all.
He seems disoriented, unsure what to say. "You must have a lot of people who care about you. I didn’t think it would cause such a stir. It’s already on the news." There’s barely concealed nervousness in his voice. It’s clear he wasn’t prepared to face the consequences of keeping someone here against their will.
Your chest aches so deeply it’s hard to breathe. For you, it’s only been a day, but for your husband? It’s been seven. Seven. Six times longer than what you’ve felt. And here you are, relaxing. How selfish. He must believe you’re dead. He’d never imagine you might be with another man.
"Do you miss him?" A cold voice asks from your side.
No… Don’t tell the truth.
Don’t ruin this, [Name]. Make this pain mean something. Turn the weight in your chest into leverage.
"Yeah... But not exactly him." You hadn’t realized you were crying, but now you use it to make your voice tremble. "I miss having a partner. Not just a boyfriend, but a husband. Someone to share everything with. Body and soul." You try to wipe your tears away, but before your hand reaches your cheek, Henry pulls you into a tight hug that steals your breath.
"P-Please don’t cry, my angel!" He runs his fingers through your hair like you’re a frightened child. "We have all the time in the world. I’ll take care of you better than he ever did. I’ll be the husband you deserve. I’ll be everything you want, and more."
You’ll never be better than him.
"You promise?" You force yourself to hug him back, wiping your face on his shoulder.
"I promise!” His other hand slowly slides down your back. "Maybe you’re feeling this way because you’re used to taking a lot of medication every day. I bought some new pain meds to replace the ones you used to take. They’re simple, harmless, and I’ll let you decide if you want them. Doesn’t that sound good?"
Putting the deception aside, he’s probably right. You must be emotionally unstable after going so long without your medication. The fear of your treatment regressing haunts you.
"It does. Thank you."
...
You need to get out of here. As soon as possible.
How much time has passed?
Ever since you started trying to earn his trust, you did your best not to stay aware of how many days had gone by. You made sure that not a single day was wasted, and little by little, you managed to get him to treat your relationship as something normal. The only thing you couldn’t get was the freedom to leave. Not that you were expecting it, of course. You wouldn't take the risk either if your loved one had thousands of missing person posters out there.
You tried to gain weight without him noticing. It would be suspicious if your body went too long without even small changes, especially after you started refusing in-person visits from your doctor and settling only for remote consultations through messages. Your plan was risky, but still... Henry didn’t seem to care about it at all.
The only time he seemed to care was when he came offering strange pills, saying they were for pain, nausea, and cramps. You refused immediately, thinking he might be testing you. He didn’t push, and left the pills in the cabinet, telling you to take them whenever you wanted. It was odd, but you didn’t question it.
After that, strange things began happening to your body. Abdominal cramps, nausea, dizziness... Henry was always there when it happened, as if he somehow knew. After staying by your side until you felt better, he would always ask the same question.
"Is the baby okay?"
It didn’t sound like concern. Whenever you answered, you could tell he was disappointed. He never mentioned the baby directly. It was like he pretended it was just you and him. The only part of your pregnancy he seemed to enjoy was your dependence on him. That's good, because it makes him let his guard down around you.
But you feel like he’s starting to suspect something.
Henry began insisting that you see a doctor, wanting to know how you and the baby were doing. You managed to stall him by saying everything was fine, but it wasn’t enough. He eventually scheduled an appointment for you, and that’s why you had to rush your escape plan.
But luck is on your side. You found the perfect opportunity.
Right now, you’re leaning against the wall, trying to find the right words. The magazine in your hands is your way out. According to it, the new museum is opening tonight. You’ve spent these last few days being as sweet as possible. There’s no way he’ll say no to your request.
"Henry?" You force a soft, honeyed tone in your voice. "Are you busy? I’d like to talk to you."
He puts away the last piece of clothing in your wardrobe before turning to face you. "Never for you, my angel." He immediately notices the magazine in your hands. "What is it?"
"I know it’s a bold request, but..." You lift the page with the article about the museum opening. "Look! It’s happening tonight. I-I thought it’d be nice if you and I went together."
He leans in slightly, looking more closely at the page.
Please don’t notice the details you’re purposely covering with your fingers.
"Looks fun." He straightens back up, and you hold back a sigh of relief. "But why are you only asking me now? That event has been announced for a while."
"I was afraid you’d say no."
No. The truth is that you were trying to minimize the chances of that happening.
"You’ve been inside for a long time. That can’t be good for you..." He pauses for a few seconds, then turns back to the wardrobe. "Get ready, my angel. We’re going out tonight."
You did it!
"Really?!" You hug him from behind. "I’ll go shower right now! Thank you, thank you!"
Without waiting for a reply, you rush off to the bathroom. Your excitement is obvious, even if it’s for entirely different reasons than what he probably thinks.
He didn’t question the details you covered. That’s good. Even though you doubt he’s been looking into your husband, you didn’t want to take any chances. The event is hosted by the city hall, so the chances of your husband being there are high. All you have to do is find him. Once he sees you, he’ll definitely find a way to fix everything.
Isaac will probably be disappointed, but... You can’t afford to miss this chance.
You glance at yourself in the car's rearview mirror, studying every detail of your face. The features that define who you are now feel hidden under layers of makeup.
Of course he wouldn’t let you leave without a disguise. You’ve never worn this much makeup before. It kind of worries you. What if your husband doesn’t recognize you like this? You’ll need to try harder.
“What’s wrong, my angel?” he says as he gently squeezes your wrist. “You look stunning. Come on, we’ve arrived.”
He opens the door for you, and as you step out, you take a deep breath. It’s been so long since you were last outside. You had forgotten how fresh air feels. But that freedom lasts only a second, until his arm wraps around your waist, pulling you close.
“Be discreet.”
Those are the only words he says before turning to face the people around you. You need to be careful. Just being here is already a miracle. He’s probably going to keep his eyes on you the entire time.
As you step into the museum, your eyes immediately scan the surroundings. There's plenty here to keep him distracted.
"That sculpture is beautiful." You gesture toward a kneeling, blindfolded androgynous figure. "But it also looks sad… Have you heard of it?"
He looks at the sculpture you’re pointing at. "No, but it says here it’s about someone..."
You pretend to listen while your eyes scan the crowd, searching for the familiar face of your husband.
"I didn’t know… That’s tragic."
If you can keep up the act, it will be easier to keep Henry distracted. It's hard to talk, stay aware of your surroundings, and fake your posture around him all at once, but you'll have a harder time if you let him stay this alert.
With each passing minute, distracting him becomes more difficult, and your nervousness only grows. The number of people around is increasing, which makes it harder to find who you're looking for and also gets in the way of your attempts to use the environment as a distraction. It's hard even to walk properly.
“Everyone is heading to the main hall. It’s probably just going to be the director’s thanks to the audience.” Henry pushed some people aside with his body, making way for you. “Come on, we can’t be the only ones outside.”
“Alright, but we better stay alert.” You took a step back, putting some distance between you and the crowd to avoid being pushed, your hand resting protectively on your belly. “I’m afraid this crowd might accidentally bump into the baby.”
“Yeah, you’re right...” He let go of your hand to wrap his arm around your shoulders, helping you keep your balance as you walked. “Are you okay? You’ve been bending your back more than usual since we got here.”
“I’m not used to this much physical activity...” You said, gently pushing away some people who were too close to your belly. “But it’s fine, it’s actually good for the baby.”
You both manage to find a quieter spot in the middle of the crowd and settle there. Even though the announcement is about to start, the crowd is still noisy.
“Let’s stay here, we have a perfect view of the staircase.”
With Henry finally distracted, the mask you’d been holding slips from your hand. Where the hell is your husband?!
You look around, trying to spot every face you can in the crowd. It can’t be, he has to be here!
Some of his coworkers are on the other side of the hall, gathered near someone who seems to be the director, also a familiar face. It makes no sense for him not to be here.
The acknowledgments are about to begin, it would be weird if you’re the only one not paying attention.
Your eyes start to sting. You should’ve seen this coming. Why were you so sure he’d come? Could it be that he’s...
Before you can think too much, a very familiar voice grabs your attention. You turn your head so fast you barely notice the movement.
You’d recognize that face even from afar. The certainty hits you the moment he looks at you with the same surprise.
Everything inside you seems to stop. It’s like the missing piece of you has finally returned.
He’s here.
Isaac is here.
But the spell breaks the instant someone crosses your line of sight and suddenly, he’s gone.
Like a ghost.
No, he can’t just disappear like that!
Or at least, you thought you did.
The group he seemed to be with greets you casually. No one there recognizes you.
Again, emptiness swallows you whole. No, you didn’t imagine him. You saw him. He was here. He looked right at you!
No matter how much you look for him again, he doesn’t show up.
No... What have you done?
The hand that spins you around isn’t enough to catch your attention, but the voice that follows is.
“That’s odd. Was that enough to make all the tiredness from your ‘pregnancy’ disappear instantly?”
Even though the voices of the crowd are loud, his voice sounds louder.
Wait, that?
“You... saw him too?”
Indignation crosses Henry’s face before rage floods it.
He saw him too! Isaac is here, you knew you weren’t imagining things!
“I can’t believe you did this to me...” He seems to be purposely hiding his expression from you. “Since when were you lying?! I can’t trust you... This was a mistake. Let’s go home. Now.”
His grip on your shoulders reminds you of the situation you’re in. You ruined everything. Because of your impatience, you broke everything you had built.
He will never trust you again. He’ll lock you up, isolate you from everyone, or worse.
You’ll never see your husband again.
That thought gives you the push you need.
“No, NO! I’m not going back, not with you!” You shove him hard in the chest. He immediately steps back, surprised.
You run through the crowd toward the exit door. If he catches you, it's all over. It will be the end.
The door feels heavier than it should as you push it open, but the small gap you manage to create is enough to slip through. It’s not the same hallway you were in before, but that doesn’t matter now. You can’t think straight, you need to find a place to hide. Somewhere far from him.
The corridor is empty, not even the guards are here watching the artworks. When you reach the end, you realize the only exit leads straight back to the crowd.
You won’t face that again. Your only option is to climb the stairs.
The door starts to open, and fear freezes you for a moment. Without hesitation, you quickly step back and run toward the stairs.
In your panic, as you turn and climb the steps, you don’t notice you’ve bumped into a candleholder that’s part of an art installation.
You don’t stop until you see the stairs end, you’re on the top floor. This doesn’t look like a public area for visitors, but even so, you feel uncomfortable in such an open space, so you enter the last room down the hall.
It looks like an art restoration room, full of chemicals and solvents. If you knock them over, it could cause a big problem. You hide under a table where you have a clear view of the door.
…
What should you do now?
Relief flows through your body as soon as you hide, and now you can think more clearly.
You were impulsive, but... it’s not all lost. Your husband is here, you need to catch him somewhere isolated, and before Henry finds you. You could ask anyone you cross for help, but that would definitely upset your husband and damage his reputation. It wouldn’t be good if his beloved became the center of attention, especially after all the effort he must have put into opening this place.
Even though you’re decided about what to do, you’re still a little anxious, so you stay hidden a few more minutes, taking advantage of the time to try to remove the makeup from your face. Your husband has already recognized you, but it’s good to be cautious.
With your face hopefully clean, you come out from under the table and take a deep breath.
...
This air isn’t clean. What’s happening outside?
You open the door and the smell of smoke fills your nose, so thick it blurs your vision. Such dense smoke can only mean one thing.
Fire.
There’s nothing else on this floor but smoke. But it would be risky to go down to the first floor, you don’t know the situation there.
Your legs are shaking, fear is taking over you again.
You look out the window. There are already several people outside the museum while fire trucks are arriving and entering the building.
If they find you, they will definitely take you to Henry. You can’t rely on them.
You go to the window on the other side of the museum, the exit there seems to have fewer firefighters than the entrance. But either way, you’ll have to go down the stairs.
Your fear messes with your thinking as you run down the stairs, you feel sparks burning your skin. Each floor you go down seems worse, your eyes sting, making it harder to see the steps.
When you reach the last one, you see it. The fire hasn’t fully blocked the exit, you can hear people shouting. If you run, you should be able to get there.
The dizziness makes walking difficult, but you don’t let it stop you.
What stops you is an argument in front of the exit.
“My partner is still inside! If you don’t go in, I will!” You see Henry struggling with some police officers at the entrance, they are having a hard time holding him back. “If they die because of your incompetence, I swear I will—[NAME]!”
The scream of your name makes you step back, and your fear of dying is replaced by a worse fear.
If you... if you leave through here...
Henry’s shouts get louder now, he’s yelling your name repeatedly.
No... You can’t risk it. Any fate is better than going back to him!
You force your heels to turn and climb the stairs again. You know it’s dangerous, but you refuse to go back to anyone but your husband.
Your remaining courage runs out when the floor collapses in front of you, the wood shakes under your feet. The stairs you came up on are also blocked by the collapse of the upper floor.
You lean against the wall, sliding down until you sit. The lack of air makes it hard to recover your energy.
It’s over for you.
You knew this would happen the moment you left that room, but you still had hope. It won’t be the fire that kills you, but your own selfishness. Many chances appeared, but you wasted them all wanting things your way.
Tears run down your cheeks, you miss your husband. All you wanted was to be home with his company, relaxing together in bed. Because of you, you’ll never be able to do that again.
Oh, Isaac... You wonder if he’s okay. There’s a window near where you are... Is there any chance you can see him?
It’s worth trying, you have nothing to lose now.
But as soon as you try to walk, the floor shakes beneath you. The fire has consumed almost everything around you, it won’t be long before the floor above collapses. You need to be quick.
Gathering your last bit of strength, you ignore the burning pain of your wounds and run to the window. The little fresh air that comes in helps you breathe better, and your vision, once blurry, starts to clear, helping you look for your beloved. But no matter how much you search, you don’t...
The floor collapses beneath you.
You didn’t find him.
...
As expected.
It’s warm.
Your body is pressed against something warm.
You don’t know what it is, your eyes feel too heavy to open.
But it’s okay, you don’t need to know.
You make a small effort to move your arms. They seem to be resting on someone. More specifically, on their shoulders. You shift them to wrap around their neck, nestling closer to the back of their head.
The scent is familiar... It comforts you.
“I’m glad you can move, even if just a little.”
You recognize the voice immediately, but to be sure you’re not imagining things, you force your eyes open. You can only keep them half-open, but it’s enough to see the body carrying you on their back.
“My love...” Your voice is so hoarse it barely sounds like yours. “Where are we going?”
You feel like you have many questions, but they slip away the moment they come to mind. Speaking takes a lot of effort, so you ask the only thing that seems to be on your mind right now.
“We're coming home, dear.”
“Home...” You repeat the word to yourself, it sounds so sweet coming from your husband’s lips. “Heh, I like the sound of that...” A small smile grows on your own lips.
“I know you do.” Isaac smiles along with you. He gently squeezes your bandaged thigh. Even though it hurts, it proves he’s really here with you. “Let’s go home, my beloved.”
You couldn’t be happier to hear those words. He found you.
“This time, I’ll make sure it’s a place where no one will ever find you.”
Hey I really like your writing style and I also have a request. I'm wondering if you can make a yandere Sasha the girl from the first Yandere cheater x reader. I just feel like she has so much potential also it's just because I love her so much!! Thank ya and have a great day/night
(Also I'm sorry if you're not comfortable with this request I just don't know what rules you have for request so please just ignore if you're not comfortable with writing this)
I honestly didn’t think anyone would get attached to Sasha, especially since I unfortunately couldn’t give her much attention in the main story. I already have a new story in progress (and I’m planning another one after that, though I haven’t fully developed it yet, so I might postpone it)
I hope you don’t mind waiting a bit. Thank you for your kindness!!
omg im so glad u didnt go down the route of forgiving the cheater, as ive seen with so many works
and i love sasha sm too she seems so fun and chaotic, great work!
Yeah no, I'd rather die than write a reader who forgives cheating lmao
And thank you so much!! Personally, I feel a bit bad for not giving her much content in the story, but it was meant to be something short so I had to stick to the basics for her and focus more on James, since he’s the m/l. I’ve been thinking about writing a one-shot/spin-off about her, but I’m not sure if that’s something many people would be interested in
An unexpected presence brings a proposal that could change everything. The past remains, but the future is shaped by the choices that lie ahead.
Authors's note: I don’t think there are any triggers or warnings needed here. I decided to leave this epilogue as a separate chapter so that those who prefer darker endings can stop at the main story, and those who want a different conclusion can keep reading.
This was the first story I ever truly wrote, so if you made it this far, thank you very much for reading.
The Price of Loving
Word Count: 1506
Art credits: mkr_aknk714 on Twitter
Quick steps cut through the forest just after the helicopter drop, the steady rain muffling some of the sound. A muffled shot hits the first target, who falls unconscious, and the run continues. With each encounter, more shots are fired with precision, and the guards keep falling, one after another, with no time to react.
In a brief pause behind a tree, the figure surveys the surroundings before moving on. Another shot rings out, and another body drops. Along the way, valuable items like electronic devices, keys, and IDs are picked up and stuffed into pockets already soaked by rain.
Soon after, the sound of heavy bodies hitting the ground interrupts the rhythm of the footsteps. Looking around, several guards lie scattered with fatal neck wounds, some hadn’t even been hit before. The pace becomes more cautious, eyes following the trail left behind as the path continues.
A sea of blood covers the ground where most bodies lie. The steps advance carefully, avoiding stepping in the blood to keep expensive shoes clean. At the altar, flowers are taken from a bouquet and examined, stained by the dark liquid. The gaze soon shifts to something more striking.
Ahead, a couple moves in a rhythm that seems intimate, almost like a silent performance, standing out in the desolate scene. The figure sits at the edge of the altar, watching.
When the dance ends, what once seemed interesting has become tedious. The gun is raised, aimed at the man, and a precise shot brings him down.
The true target sighs in surprise and falls, unprepared to hold the man they were dancing with.
“James...?” you murmur, confused, noticing a tranquilizer dart lodged in his back.
“Boring, boring!” a hooded figure appears, tossing the gun up and catching it again. “Were you even trying? The whole performance was completely deplorable! Oh, how dreadful…!” The voice adopts a dramatic, exaggerated tone.
When you try to stand, the figure quickens the pace, holsters the tranquilizer gun, and draws another weapon.
Now, it’s a real gun.
“My target shouldn’t move. Come on, back where you were, come on, come on!” the figure insists, pushing the gun to your forehead and forcing you down.
You obey and return to your previous position, then bow your head. Silence dominates for a moment until broken by an annoyed huff.
“You’re not going to say anything? Seriously?”
“What should I say? You’re here to kill us, right?”
“Not him.” They spins the pistol’s cylinder. “Only you.”
Your eyes widen. You raise your head slightly, trying to see the face hidden by the hood. Only you?
“I... I get it...” The surprise fades quickly, and your head lowers again. “You must be someone I wronged in the past, then.”
“So how do you plan to make up for that?”
“...You’re not here to...”
“You think your death is enough?”
You stare at the figure again, now with irritation. “Stop playing games with me.” Gradually, your mind starts clearing.
For some reason, you sense your words make the figure smile. “A punishment isn’t really a punishment if you’re okay with it.”
“I disagree. It’s still a punishment if the one receiving it isn’t okay with it, even if they accept it.” your patience is running thin. “Who are you?”
“Heh.” The figure slowly pulls back the hood. “Miss me?” She tosses her hair back and rests one hand on her hip.
Sasha?!
“You!” Your tone is heavy with accusation. “What are you doing here?!”
“Forgot you had a gun pointed at your head?” Sasha lightly presses the pistol’s tip against your forehead, a teasing gesture. “Well, I don't like to let my targets die without knowing anything."
With the other hand, she pulls something from her pocket and hands it to you. A badge.
Looking at it, the symbol is unmistakable. So this was what she’d been trying to hide.
“Contract killer... So that’s your job? Killing for dirty money?” You throw the badge away with disdain. When you look back, the smile has vanished from her face, now serious.
“...You hate injustice, don’t you?”
You hesitate for a moment before answering. Your voice softens, matching her tone. “...Yeah, that’s why I want to join the police, to prevent as much as I can.”
“Tell me” she lowers the gun from your face “Do you really think you can be a police officer?”
Those words... are almost identical to what James said to you so long ago.
“You murdered someone just a few months ago… Do you really think you’re going to become a police officer after that? Do you think anyone’s going to forgive you?"
But unlike him, she seems more... genuine, sad even.
“I know I can’t...” your voice comes out in a whisper, your eyes fixed on no particular point. You want to deny the truth, but after so long, all that’s left is acceptance.
Suddenly, Sasha raises the gun. You instinctively close your eyes. But the shot doesn’t come at you, she fires beside your body and drops the gun from her hands.
“Then join me.”
Her words catch your attention. She crouches in front of you, resting her arms on her thighs and locking eyes with you.
“You agree the police don’t bring real justice, right? That woman you killed... Justice says she didn’t deserve that, but what about you?”
Even trying to avoid it, you can’t help but think she deserved it…
Sasha watches your expression closely, then reaches out and gently strokes your head. “Yeah, I agree.” She smiles with a tender air. “Traitors deserve to die. You’re just like me.”
You frown and pull your head away from her hand. That makes her laugh, and she stands, stepping back.
“So, what do you think?” She extends her hand toward you. “You’re more useful alive than dead.”
At that moment, flashes of memory rush through your mind. The first time she did this... a long time ago.
“But... how am I supposed to make up for what I did?”
“It’s simple. You can’t. You can’t run from your past, and that’s why I’m here.”
This shouldn’t be a surprise to you. Deep down, you always knew someone you hurt back in school would come after you.
You just didn’t expect it to be like this. Whoever it was, they must still be too pathetic to have the courage to try killing you with their own hands.
You take her hand. “Alright, I accept. Let’s bring justice with our own hands, Sasha.”
She pulls you up, her smile widening and eyes sparkling with excitement. “An excellent choice, I must say! So, shall we?”
“Just a moment.” You pick up the gun you had taken from the ground and aim it at James. When you pull the trigger, all you hear is a click. “What? You only had one bullet left?”
When you look back, you see Sasha picking up the badge you had thrown earlier. “Duh, of course! I only had one target, one bullet was enough.” She winks at you, and you roll your eyes.
“How arrogant. And how are you so sure that one bullet would be enough?” You hand the gun back to her.
“I have my own principles.” She tucks the gun into her waistband. “I can't kill anyone other than my target. One target, one bullet.”
You sigh, and she grabs your wrist, pulling you away from James’ body. “Oh, come on! I need someone to take the blame for what I did too.”
“I guess...” you walk beside Sasha in silence for a moment, the only sound being the rain and her cheerful humming.
“You told me I was like you...” you wait for her to look at you, but her gaze stays fixed ahead. “But I don’t hurt or kill innocent people. Well, not anymore, at least...”
“I never said my targets were good people. I make sure they truly deserve to die... just like you.” She glances at you from the corner of her eye, her tone clearly playful. “But I know that for you, dying might even be a favorable fate.”
“Even after accepting your proposal, I don’t know if it’ll be easy to forget what I’ve done in the past.” You both approach her helicopter.
“I’ll make sure you forget.” She opens the door and you step inside. “We’ll make so many good memories together you won’t even have time to think about it.”
Her words bring a smile to your face, even if you hate to admit it. Sasha climbs into the pilot’s seat and turns to you.
“You look tired. You can sleep while I fly.”
“I don't know if I trust you piloting anything. It doesn't suit you at all.”
She sticks out her tongue at you and turns back to the front. You stifle a laugh and look away, gazing out the window.
Your eyes drift toward where James’s body should be. It’s finally over, but...
You have a feeling this won’t be the last time you see him.
After you discover your fiancé cheating on you with his assistant, rage takes over and you kill her right in front of him. Arrested and imprisoned for the crime, he visits you frequently, wanting to rebuild what he destroyed.
Tw/Tags. yandere, cheating, toxic relationship, kidnapping, obsessive, non-consensual touching, degradation, homicide, blood, manipulation, captivity, bondage, force feeding, death (not the reader), angst, suggesting content. Pronouns are not used, but the reader is implied to be a woman. Let me know if I missed any.
Word Count: 11664
The room was silent, the only sound being that of the clock.
“What do you feel when you think about crime?”
Silence.
“Do you regret what you did?
Silence. You know there's no point in answering.
The psychologist forces a small smile “If you don't want to talk again today, that's fine. We'll wait until you're ready.” She writes something in her notebook and closes it “You're free to go.”
You don't bother saying goodbye and leave the room, the policemen who were at the door waiting for you to leave escort you in silence to your cell. At every cell you passed you felt eyes staring at you, and you made sure to return their gaze. When you arrived, you were brutally pushed inside, the brute action made you clench your teeth, and you held back so as not to say anything.
You sit down and breathe, trying to calm down. You've been here for a week now, but with James coming here every day, it feels like an eternity.
"James..."
You mutter bitterly, his name leaving a bitter taste in your mouth. Your eyes wander to the other side of the room, where the thousands of gifts he brought are scattered across the table without any care.
The smell of alcohol and antiseptics invades your nostrils as you walk through the hospital corridors to your fiancé's room. You were carrying a box of sweets in a good mood, you worked hard to cook all this after all.
Your hands got burnt in the process, but if that's enough to show him that you love him, there's no need to worry about it.
You hesitate for a second, but decide not to knock. As you turn the handle and push open the door, you freeze at the scene. You regret not knocking sooner.
A blazer is lying on the floor, next to a woman's jacket. The table where a woman is sitting is a complete mess. You look around the scene in shock, until you finally see the faces of the couple in front of you.
Your fiancé and his assistant.
James quickly turns away from the woman and towards you. He seems completely oblivious to the woman in front of him “Darling, you've come to visit me!” a smile appears on his face as he walks over to you
How dare he look happy after the scene you've just witnessed?
Noticing your presence, the assistant tries to leave discreetly, her steps hurried but contained. You don't think, your gaze sweeps the room and settles on the first object within reach, a chair.
The impulse takes over you, and before you can even think, you’ve already lifted it and struck her with the first blow. The sound of the impact and the screams echo around you, and you keep going. You hit her again and again until you realize the screams have stopped.
It was enough to alert nearby staff and patients. Some watched the scene with horror etched across their faces, while others were already running toward where you were.
You turned to your fiancé. His face was a mix of fear and shock, but there was something else. A glint in his eyes, a small smile on his lips.
He looked pleased.
"You... killed her? Because of me?" his voice came out low, almost in awe. "If I had known you were…"
You didn’t let him finish. You raised the chair again and lunged forward, ready to strike. But before you could hit him, you were restrained by nurses who rushed in and pinned you down.
On the ground, trapped under arms and surrounded by shouts, as the nurses rushed to check the woman's body, you realized what you had done.
There’s no going back now.
You clench your fists as that memory flashes through your mind again, and you quickly look away from the table. There's no point in thinking about it anymore. Instead, you fix your gaze on the hallway clock.
5:48 p.m.
James usually arrives around this time. Maybe he’s running late. Or maybe, just maybe, he finally gave up trying to convince you not to kill him with your own hands. You hope it’s the latter.
But your hopes die the moment you hear that sticky, annoyingly cheerful voice.
“Thank God you’re awake... You usually tend to doze off around this time.” He appears from the corner where you were looking at the clock. “Sorry I’m late, darling, the hospital was packed today.”
You ignore him and turn your back, not even bothering to answer. He has always hated the silent treatment. If you're lucky, he'll give up and walk away. But you know that would be a miracle.
"I thought we were past this…” His annoyance is obvious, even though he tries to mask it with sadness. "I noticed you even had one of the chocolates I brought yesterday. That has to mean you're starting to forgive me.”
What? You didn’t touch any of the things he brought, but you decide not to care about that now.
"I told the guards not to let you in," you say directly, completely ignoring the absurd thing he just said before. "Why are you here?”
"You should know that won’t stop me."
"I guess not." You turn toward James, not hiding your unhappiness at seeing him. "So? What did you come here for?”
"Can’t I visit my own fiancée anymore?" he said, showing the gifts. "Look, I picked your favorite flowers and chose the best chocolates for you..."
You don’t pay attention to his words. Hearing him speak used to be something you loved, but now it only provokes irritation.
As you struggled to push away any thought that reminded you of his presence, the cell door creaked open with a dry squeak, and a guard let him in. Your eyes first went to the gifts he carefully placed on your table, adding them to the others he had brought before. When you finally mustered the courage to face him, his arms were already around you.
“What…” You immediately raise your hands to push him away, but he interrupts you by hugging you tighter and bringing his lips close to your ear.
“You don’t want to make a scene here in front of everyone, do you?” His warm breath tickles your skin, sending an uncomfortable shiver down your spine. If you want to get out of here and as far away from him as possible, you better be discreet for now.
Noticing your attempt to hold back, he rested his head on your shoulder, prolonging the moment longer than tolerable. When he finally pulled away, he smiled with that same irritating smile as always.
"Aren’t you afraid I’ll break your face?”
“You wouldn’t do that.”
You definitely would, but not here.
He settled on the edge of your bed and motioned for you to sit beside him. “I have something to talk to you about.”
When you didn’t follow, he took your hand and gently pulled you to his side, his expression now serious as he lowered his voice. “Look, about everything that happened…”
“What is wrong with you?" Your hand pulls away from his in a sharp motion.
He doesn’t react right away. He just lowers his eyes, as if searching for words on the floor. For a brief second, he looks hurt, but says nothing.
"You think you can just come back here and try to fix everything?" Your indignation is clear. Your stomach turns just having him this close. His scent, the sound of his breathing, everything about him feels really annoying right now.
He takes a deep breath, and when he finally speaks, his voice is low, almost cautious. "I know, I know what I did... But could you at least listen to what I have to say?"
That sparks something inside you. Your heart races, like you’ve just been punched. You stand up abruptly, the bed creaking under the sudden movement.
"Listen?!" your voice rises instantly, firm and uncontrolled. Your whole body is tense, you’re really holding yourself back from exploding. "Do you even know what you’re talking about?! You cheated on me, for fuck’s sake! There’s no excuse for that!" Your breathing is already heavy.
He stands up too, maybe out of impulse or maybe out of fear of losing control of the situation. He tries to take a step toward you, his hands slightly raised as if trying to calm you. "Darling, please, calm down, I just want to…”
"Get the fuck out of my cell." You cut him off, looking him straight in the eyes. "I don’t want to hear what you have to say, none of your excuses. I’d rather rot in prison than be free because of you!”
He freezes for a moment, as if unsure whether he should insist or leave. But you don’t look away. The air between you is heavy. Your argument has drawn several curious looks, and one disapproving glance from a guard.
James knew that if he pushed any further, he’d lose any chance of speaking to you again.
He leaves the cell in silence, without looking back. But just before crossing the door, you still catch his final whisper,barely audible.
"I’m going to get you out of here."
Your eyes widen for a second before you pull yourself together.
"And when that happens, I’ll kill you."
He says nothing else and walks out in silence.
Your body is still trembling with anger, and you throw yourself onto the bed, one arm resting over your eyes. You try to calm your breathing, taking deep, slow breaths.
You tried once, then twice, three times…Each attempt only seemed to make the irritation worse. You can’t understand how he still manages to affect you so deeply, even after everything that happened. You keep trying for the rest of the night.
The next morning, you wake up in a bad mood, your body stiff in an uncomfortable position and your shoulders aching, without remembering exactly when you fell asleep. But it wasn’t the discomfort that woke you, it was a different sound.
You turned your head slightly to the side and looked out of the corner of your eye. You saw a hand reaching through the bars of the neighboring cell, trying to grab a box of chocolates James had left on the table against the wall opposite your bed.
You watched the woman’s pathetic attempt to be quiet. She seemed to be struggling. Her hand barely touched the box, and when she did, all she managed to do was push it farther away.
The scowl that was already on her face deepened. With an annoyed sigh, she pulled her hand back. Just as she was about to try again, she looked in your direction, probably to check if you were still asleep.
Your eyes met and she quickly withdrew her arm, freezing. You stared at each other for a few seconds before she gave you a mischievous smile. "These chocolates have been here for days…! You’re not going to eat them, are you? It’s better if someone does before they rot and make the whole place stink!”
Despite the confident tone, you noticed the nervousness she was trying to hide.
You look away and stare at the ceiling. "You can take it. I wasn’t going to eat it anyway."
The woman stayed silent for a moment. She didn’t seem to believe you truly didn’t care. "...Really? I mean... alright then! Don’t mind me grabbing it!"
She reached out again, this time more eagerly, and finally managed to grab the box.
With a satisfied smile, she pulled it into her cell and opened the box, unwrapping a chocolate. "I was so hungry! Yesterday, when your boyfriend was…”
"Ex” you correct her.
"...Ex-boyfriend was here, I couldn’t grab any and spent the whole night starving. You and he are terrifying when you’re angry, so I didn’t want to risk it." She tossed the chocolate in the air and caught it in her mouth, chewing happily.
You got up from the bed and sat up, your gaze falling to the floor. “...Did you see what happened yesterday?”
"You should be asking who didn’t see it." She grabbed another chocolate. "You two were loud. I don’t know how he still has permission to visit you and bring all this good stuff!"
"Good stuff..." you repeat bitterly as you start getting up to get ready.
The woman you were talking to glanced quickly at the clock and realized she also needed to hurry. Neither of you wanted to attract the attention of the guards.
After pricking your fingers several times, you finally finish sewing the hand of the small amigurumi you've been working on since you got there. Carefully, you hold it up to your eyes, examining each stitch closely.
It's not perfect, but... it's good enough. You hope some child will like it.
Then, the sound of the bell echoes through the hallway. It’s time for outdoor break. You put your materials away, hand the amigurumi to the woman in charge of the workshop, and head toward the yard.
Outside, you sit on a bench, watching the other inmates also taking advantage of the fresh air, some chatting, others in silence. They don’t mind your presence and ignore you.
Your eyes fall to your hands, thousands of tiny wounds scattered across them.
"Wow, that looks painful..." The same woman from before is leaning over your shoulder, eyeing your hands with curiosity.
"You again?" you turn your face away, annoyed. She turns to face you, her smile widening with amusement.
Ignoring your comment, she sits beside you. "Didn't know you were the crochet type. Doesn't suit you at all, especially making stuffed animals.”
“It’s not like I... like it. It’s just the least awful job around here.” You lower your hands to your lap.
“Doesn’t look that way to me…”
She decides to drop the subject and, in a casual motion, throws an arm around your shoulders, pulling you closer. Then, she slips a hand inside her bra and pulls out a chocolate wrapped in luxurious packaging.
“Check this out.” She places the candy between you two. “I don’t like owing favors, so I brought you a chocolate from the boss’s office. This is one of the most expensive in the world! Look at this fancy wrapping…” Her fingers point out tiny details in the packaging that no one would notice without trying.
When you make no move to take the chocolate, she grabs your hand and places it in your palm. “Impressive, right? I’m paying my debt to you for those other chocolates. Feel honored.”
You don’t really care about that, but she looks so proud that you don’t have the heart to ruin her moment.
"Thanks, I guess. You didn’t owe me anything, but... I appreciate the gift." You tuck the chocolate into a pocket or fold of your clothes.
She watches your face closely, looking for any sign of sarcasm. Finding none, she nods, satisfied.
"You’re not what I expected, [Name]." She crosses her legs and props her elbow on one knee, resting her face in her hand. "When I read your file, I thought you were just another one who messed up their life over someone stupid. But you seem… alright, even after everything.”
"Prying into other people’s lives is a huge invasion of privacy."
"Yeah, maybe. But criminal records are public reading in here. You should see what they say about me." She makes a playful face. "I’ve heard so many stories I don’t even know what I actually did anymore.”
“Anyway, it’s none of your business.” You stand up and start walking back, wanting to end the conversation.
She jumps up from the bench almost instantly, quickening her pace to catch up with you. “Hey! I’m trying to get close to you. Everyone here has an ally, and you need one too!”
“Why would I need one?” you snap back without looking at her. “If I just don’t mess with anyone, no one will mess with me.”
"That’s not how things work in a place like this.” She steps in and stops right in front of you, forcing you to halt, then reaches out her hand. “My name’s Sasha. If you become my ally in here, I promise I’ll watch your back. So? What do you say?”
You stare at her hand without moving. The offer doesn’t make much sense to you, but you feel that if you refuse, she’ll keep pushing, maybe even more than before. Before touching her hand, you hesitate.
“And what do you get out of this?” You pull your hand back and cross your arms suspiciously. “I don’t see what use I’d be to you, and it’s pretty clear you’re not doing this out of kindness.”
“What if I’m just being nice?”
“Yeah, right” you say, turning your back and starting to walk away.
She starts walking beside you again, talking non-stop. The walk back is full of her trying to convince you to accept the offer. You begin to think she’s insisting just so she doesn’t seem lonely.
When you came back, you expected to see James waiting in front of your cell, but he didn’t show up.
He didn’t show up that night. Nor the next day. Nor the week after. In fact, months passed without any sign of him.
You still can’t really believe it, even though the answers are right in front of you. Has he finally decided to leave you alone?
During that time, Sasha tried to get closer to you. For some reason, she was always around and greeted you in a good mood. Even though she was loud, she didn’t annoy you like before. She was kind of nice to have around and always brought you gifts. You shared a bit about your life with her, and she shared hers.
She told you that before she got arrested, she was trying to pursue a career as an actress. She went to auditions, took acting classes, and even performed in an amateur play. You found it curious that someone like her ended up in prison.
When you asked why, she said she was arrested for theft, explaining that it was hard to afford the cost of classes and she saw no other way out. One day, you happened to see a small badge with the name of a theater. She quickly hid it and didn’t explain further. She looked embarrassed, so you decided not to press her about it.
It was 3:00 AM when you woke up to loud noises, hurried footsteps, gunshots, and other sounds you couldn’t quite make out.
Already alert, you immediately got up. Your heart raced as you tried to understand what was happening. The sound of footsteps and gunfire echoed down the entire corridor, mixed with screams and confused voices.
You moved closer to the bars of your cell, trying to see beyond the darkness. The faint light from flickering lamps showed figures running past, some shouting, others trying to shield themselves from whatever was going on.
Sasha appeared on the other side of the bars, her voice standing out amid the intense noise filling the corridor. "There you are! Are you hurt?” she asked with concern.
In her hands, she held a small key which she quickly inserted into your cell lock. You heard the click of the door unlocking and decided to ask, even though you already had an idea
"Sasha, what the fuck is going on?!"
She glanced quickly to the sides before answering "It's a riot. We don't have much time, let's get out of here."
As soon as the door swung wide open, she grabbed your wrist tightly and pulled you out, not giving you a chance to hesitate. The corridors were absolute chaos, bodies scattered on the floor, prisoners freeing each other, and police officers trying, in vain, to contain the riot.
You ran alongside Sasha, trying to keep up the pace, but every step was a challenge. The smell of blood and burning smoke in your nostrils was unbearable.
Suddenly, there was an explosion at the end of the corridor. Your body reacted instinctively; you turned your head back and saw a huge hole in the wall next to the door.
A crowd of prisoners was fleeing in panic, trampling everything in their path. The sharp sound of gunshots made your heart jump, and you quickly looked forward. Sasha was looking over her shoulder, clearly annoyed.
"For God’s sake..." she muttered to herself before looking at you. "Pick up the pace, and don’t run in a straight line." She tightened her grip on your wrist and rushed ahead.
You tried to keep up, but you couldn’t. If it was already hard to dodge the bodies on the floor, now it felt impossible. Even after grabbing her with both hands, you and Sasha struggled to stay together, the panicked crowd made it nearly impossible.
And then it got worse. You felt a sharp pain in your thigh. It was like your leg had been torn apart from the inside, followed by a burning sensation that made you gasp.
The sound of the gunshot still echoed in your ears when your fingers slipped from Sasha’s. In the blink of an eye, she vanished into the crowd.
"Shit..." you hissed through clenched teeth.
You stumbled until you managed to get out of the escape route and leaned against a wall, trying to think of what to do. The pain was overwhelming, you knew you wouldn't be able to run like that.
While you were struggling to come up with a solution, you felt a hand slide around your waist, and before you could react, you were yanked back with brutal force.
A damp cloth covered your nose and mouth. Your body fought on reflex, but stopped the moment a familiar voice whispered in your ear.
"I told you I’d get you out of here."
You woke up with your face pressed against something warm and firm. Slowly, your senses began to return, and as you looked up, you found yourself face-to-face with James’s peaceful, sleeping face.
What the fuck?
When you tried to push him away, you realized something strange, your hands were cuffed behind your back. Looking down, you saw that your thigh was carefully bandaged. At least your feet were free.
You expected to be in your old home, the place where you lived before everything fell apart, but the room around you was completely different. It looked... tropical. Warm golden light filtered through the windows, the air smelled faintly of sea salt, and from outside came the soft, rhythmic sound of waves crashing.
With effort and several tries, you managed to get to your feet and take a better look around. This place was definitely not an ordinary house. The walls were made of light wood, decorated with fine fabrics and clay-potted plants. A steady breeze flowed through the room, making the white curtains sway gently. Outside, you could hear birds and the distant sound of the sea.
“Did you like it? I decorated it just for you.”
You turned your head. James was still lying on the bed, silently watching you. His gaze was fixed, like he was waiting for a specific reaction.
“Where did you bring me?!” you snapped, unable to hide the anger and confusion in your voice.
He stood up slowly and walked to the middle of the room. He stopped and opened his arms with a satisfied smile on his face. "How can you be mad after everything I did just for you?" He started rambling about the decorations, mentioning where he had stored your police training books, your clothes, and your personal belongings.
You kept your gaze steady as you waited for an explanation. The anger inside you grew, mixed with fear and disbelief.
He sighed and then returned to the bed, sitting on the edge.
"It was your dream to live in a house by the beach." he said, trying to make you understand what he had done for you. "That's why I worked so hard to bring you here."
"Bring me here?!" you said, incredulous. "You literally kidnapped me and handcuffed me!"
He went silent for a moment, then admitted, looking away, "…Well, I didn’t see another way to get you here."
You felt a knot in your throat. He continued, his voice lower now, almost as if trying to justify himself, "And you didn’t seem emotionally stable enough to have a conversation with me."
You grit your teeth, the feeling of helplessness starting to weigh on you.
“So you thought you had the right to decide everything for me?” you ask, trying to control the tremor in your voice. “I’ve told you, it’s over! It’s finished, done, gone!” You hope your firm words finally get through to him.
His smile falters and he stands up, walking toward the door.
“Now you’re going to leave and just let me here?”
He opens the door and looks back over his shoulder. “I’ll be back soon, darling. Wait for me.” He closes the door behind him with a smile.
There’s no way you’re going to just stand here waiting for him.
The pain in your thigh is unbearable, but that won’t stop you. You drag your legs slowly to the edge of the bed and, after a lot of effort, manage to touch your feet to the floor. Every movement makes the pain worse, your body trembles, and you’re almost regretting what you’re trying to do.
But your pride speaks louder. You refuse to obey him. He must think you’re helpless now that you’re hurt. Even with that thought, you’re still hesitating.
You hesitate just long enough for him to come back.
"...I thought I told you to wait for me.” he said, clearly not pleased. "You won’t be able to walk without my help.”
"I don’t need you, I can walk on my own…" The tremor in your voice is obvious, even you’re not sure you believe it.
“Then walk.”
“...What?”
"Walk." He repeats, leaning his back against the wall by the door. "You said you don’t need me, so I want you to come to me without my help.”
The room fell silent. You felt your breathing quicken. The weight of the situation fully settled on your shoulders. Your thigh throbbed, each pulse of pain sharper than the last. You looked down at the floor, then at the distance to the door. It was just over two meters, but to your injured body, it felt like a battlefield.
"I'm waiting, or have you already given up?"
He stepped away from the wall and started walking toward you. You quickly raised your hand, signaling for him to stop.
"I can do it..." you whispered to yourself, trying to believe your own words. You took a deep breath, gathering courage. With great care, you placed your uninjured leg on the floor. But even this simple movement pulled the muscles in your injured thigh, sending a sharp pain through your body like an electric shock. A trembling sigh escaped your lips.
James watched silently, but you noticed impatience growing on his face. Not wanting to give him the satisfaction of seeing you give up, you decided to push through it.
You regretted it. Deeply.
Your body gave out immediately, overwhelmed by immense pain. Your leg failed, and before you could react, you were already on the floor. The sound of the fall echoed through the room, your head hitting the floor hard, the impact knocking the air out of your lungs.
But nothing hurt more than your thigh. The sudden movement from the fall made the injured muscles contract, and the pain tore through you as if the wound had opened again. Your body trembled and tears welled up in your eyes. You could barely breathe.
You clenched your teeth as you heard his loud laughter echo right in front of you. The sadness that had consumed you seconds before quickly merged with anger and, even worse, humiliation.
“You look like a worm writhing…” he mocked between laughs, barely able to contain himself.
When the laughter finally started to fade, you mustered the courage to lift your face. But it was in vain. The weight of his shoe was already pressing down on your head, forcing you back to the floor.
“Stay down.” he murmured, his voice hard and cruel. “It suits you better.”
His harsh tone caught you by surprise, he had never spoken to you like that before. A chill ran down your spine, but you tried to keep your voice steady, even though the tremor betrayed your insecurity.
“Is that the first thing you do when you see your girlfriend in pain? What a great boyfriend you are…” Your own words disgusted you, but it was better to keep him entertained for now.
He fell silent, and you couldn’t guess what expression was on his face at that moment. Without warning, he lifted his foot off your head, and you took the chance to slightly raise your head. Just as you hesitated to look at him, you felt the weight of his shoe press against your chin, gently lifting your face with a disturbing tenderness.
“You’re right” he said, his voice carrying a false tone of remorse. “But on second thought... a snake suits you better, don’t you think? I say that as a compliment.”
You shot him a sharp look, as if you could cut him with your eyes. But he simply ignored it, as if your contempt didn’t affect him in the slightest.
Without warning, he bent down and picked you up in a bridal carry, with unexpected gentleness. The contrast between his cruel words and soft gesture left you confused.
“Let’s go” he murmured, a slight smile playing at the corner of his lips. “The kitchen awaits.”
As he carried you toward the kitchen, you started to take in the rooms you passed through. He had really decorated everything exactly the way you told him.
“So... what are your life goals? Or better yet, what are your dreams?” James asked, resting his elbow on the table as he watched you with interest.
“Dreams...” You paused for a moment, fork halfway to your mouth, and glanced out the window. The question seemed simple, but it struck deep. After a few seconds of thought, you cleared your throat softly. “I guess I’d like to live in a house by the beach. The sound of the waves relaxes me... The sand is nice too.”
James nodded thoughtfully and took a sip of his drink. “I totally get that. But you’ve got to be careful too. My mom used to go to the beach every weekend but never used sunscreen. She’d get all burnt, and guess who had to take care of her afterward?” He rolled his eyes slightly, but the gentle smile at the corner of his mouth betrayed the affection behind the memory.
“You really have a way of taking care of others...” You commented, a slightly softer tone in your voice. “I think our goals connect somehow. I can’t stand injustice, so I want to become a police officer after finishing college.” You extended the study book that was next to your plate. He took it carefully, flipping through some pages with interest, his eyes scanning the words.
“Now that you mention it...” He closed the book slowly, turning his gaze back to you. “You’re right, I have a dream similar to yours, but instead of living by the beach, I want to have a wedding there.”
“Oh, I’ve already been to one.” Your expression remained neutral, but your eyes clearly lit up at the subject. “My aunt got married on the beach. It was very beautiful. I think I’d like to do the same...”
The conversation went on. You were calm, sitting in your home, eating a simple meal made right there. There was no tension in the air. Just his presence there, talking to you, was enough to make you feel at ease. You felt safe and relaxed, as if you didn’t have to worry about anything else.
At that moment, you believed you had found the right person, someone who understood you.
You shake your head, trying to push the bad memories away. Thinking about the promises he made wouldn’t change anything now. When you become aware of your surroundings again, James is placing you sitting in the kitchen chair.
The kitchen was spacious and incredibly tidy. The light wooden furniture matched the tropical style of the house, and all the utensils were neatly arranged, as if they had never been used. On the marble countertop, some fresh fruits and ingredients were already prepared.
“Breakfast isn’t ready yet, I just came back because I thought you might be feeling lonely in there.”
James turned his back, grabbing a knife to continue cutting whatever it was. The rhythmic sound of the knife hitting the board filled the silence.
“So you want me to just sit here watching you cook?” you ask, breaking the silence.
He didn’t stop cutting, nor did he turn to you. “You used to do that before, liked watching me cook…”
You furrowed your brow. Did he notice that? You didn’t even know he paid attention to such details. But then the memory of everything he did to you came rushing back, and that little moment of distraction dissolved into the bitterness of reality.
You watch his movements, the way he handles the knife naturally. The sweet smell of herbs began to spread as the tea finished brewing, filling the air with an almost comforting aroma. Emphasis on almost.
James washed his hands and carefully dried them on a white linen cloth folded over the sink. Unhurried, he grabbed a tray he had prepared on the counter and turned toward you.
On the tray, fruits cut into small pieces were arranged in separate bowls, strawberries, bananas, kiwi slices. Next to them, little pots with condensed milk, chocolate syrup, and fresh cream completed the presentation.
You studied the tray before commenting, “This isn’t the healthiest breakfast for someone who’s still recovering.”
“Responsible as always, darling” a nostalgic smile appeared on his face. “I know, but I think you also need to regain some of your mood.”
He pulled a chair next to you and sat down, placing the tray in front of himself. Your gaze showed confusion as you realized he positioned it in front of him, not you.
Without saying a word, he grabbed a fork, speared a piece of strawberry, and dipped it into the melted chocolate.
“Let’s do it like we used to.” He raised the fork slowly to your lips. “Don’t you miss when I used to feed you?”
You immediately turned your head to the side. “No way.”
“Don’t be like that.”
He tried again to bring the fork closer, persistent, but you turned to the other side. The little standoff went on for a few moments, almost like a silent game between you two. Only when he realized he wouldn’t win the game did he sigh, defeated.
“All right, all right. How about we make a deal?”
“A de...” You barely finished the word before he took advantage of your distraction and shoved the fork into your mouth. He let out a low chuckle but stopped as soon as he noticed the deadly look you shot back at him. It was clear he recognized the boundary he had nearly crossed.
“If you sit on my lap, I’ll let you feed yourself.”
You raised an eyebrow. “And what makes you think I’ll accept that?”
“Well...” He tilted his head slightly, still wearing that strange smile on his lips. “I’m giving you a choice.”
You quickly weighed the options. None of them were good, just the lesser evil. Letting him feed you would put you in a infantilized, helpless position. But accepting to sit on his lap… well, you could pretend you were just trying to make everything more bearable. Besides, by taking the fork yourself, you could keep a minimum of autonomy. An illusion, perhaps, but enough for now.
You took a deep breath, suppressing the pride and frustration boiling inside your chest “I’ll sit on your lap if you let me eat by myself.”
His eyes lit up as if he had just received a gift. He nodded enthusiastically, a wide smile spreading across his face. “As you wish, darling.”
Without waiting any longer, he stood up and carefully lifted you. Then, he settled you onto his lap with surprising gentleness, adjusting your position so that both of you were facing the table where the breakfast tray rested.
You kept your face neutral, focusing only on the food in front of you and picked up the fork. Your first thought was to turn around and stab him, but you could feel his eyes on you, sharp and watchful like a hawk. You let the idea go and began eating in silence.
As you chewed, he leaned in and began pressing his lips against random spots on your back. Each kiss sent a shiver down your spine, and you gripped the fork so tightly your knuckles turned white.
When you raised the fork to spear the last piece of fruit, James tried to take the utensil from your hand. You resisted. He then wrapped his hand around yours and gently guided it back toward the plate.
“I thought we had a deal.”
“I’m not feeding you” he said calmly. “I’m just guiding you.”
Instinctively, your head tilted slightly upward as the fork approached your mouth. James didn’t seem interested in continuing the game, he held your chin firmly, though not aggressively, forcing it downward. You refused to open your lips, so he let go of your chin, pinched your nose gently and patiently, and waited.
A few seconds later, the discomfort overpowered your stubbornness. You opened your mouth to breathe, and he took the opportunity to place the piece of fruit between your lips.
“There. That wasn’t so bad, was it?”
You knew he wouldn’t take well the answer you had in mind, so you held it back, biting your lower lip hard to keep the words from slipping out. He didn’t insist, he simply lifted you gently from his lap and placed you back in your own chair.
“I’m going to do the dishes. Once I’m done, I want to show you your new home.”
You didn’t argue. Getting to know the area might be useful. The more you learned about the place, the better your chances of escaping.
James took you through every room in the house, pointing out details of the decor, personal items he had brought to please you, and speaking with enthusiasm about everything he had prepared.
It was only later, when you looked toward the horizon and saw the sea stretching as far as the eye could see, that you understood the full weight of the situation. You weren’t just on a beach, you were on an island.
That made everything worse.
Still, a spark of hope ignited. There were guards scattered throughout the property. Their presence made escaping more dangerous, yes, but it could also be the key. If you could just get close to one of them… maybe you could ask for help.
The tour lasted the entire day, and even when you tried to hide your exhaustion, James noticed. He decided the tour would have to continue the next day. Now, you’re in the bedroom’s spacious bathroom, where the jacuzzi softly warms the water with gentle steam.
You're sitting in the center of the tub, the water enveloping your body, while James sits behind you on the edge. You insisted on bathing alone, wanting to preserve some sense of independence, but he refused to risk you getting hurt or something unexpected happening.
In the end, you reached a compromise: he would help wash your hair, but you wouldn’t take your clothes off. James agreed without protest and removed your restraints. At the moment, his hands are gliding slowly through your hair, massaging and washing it gently, while you lather your body from the front.
"Be careful not to get your bandage wet. Even with the protection I put on it, it’s better not to take any chances."
You nodded silently. To someone who didn’t know him well, his tone might have seemed harsh, maybe even cold, but you knew it was the same clinical tone he always used with patients.
"I'm done. Can you hand me the handheld shower?"
"Aren’t you going to wash your back?" he asked, already leaning in. Before you could answer, James reached for the soap on the soap dish where you had left it. Without hesitation, he slid his hands under your wet shirt, gliding the soap across your back in slow, deliberate motions.
He leaned in, pressing your back against his, and whispered against your ear “Just relax, let me take care of you for a moment.”
Your body shivered involuntarily, but you didn’t resist. After so many arguments throughout the day, you simply didn’t have the strength to fight anymore.
“Aren’t you tired too? You spent the whole day carrying me around.”
Your attempt to push him away with logic sounded more like concern, and you realized it too late. Behind you, you felt the smile forming on his lips. “I’ll never be too tired to take care of my darling.”
If you ignored the fact that it was him there with you, it would’ve been a perfect moment. The warm water, the circular motions on your back, the silence that filled the bathroom, it was almost comforting. At least you were getting clean, even if fully clothed.
You thought he was done when he returned the soap to the dish, but then his hands came back to your shoulders, now with a gentle massage. You didn’t protest, just closed your eyes and tried to disconnect from reality. Pretend it’s not him, [Name].
His fingers softened their movements once he noticed your body was finally giving in. You took a deep breath, trying to take what you could from that strange moment of calm.
“Feeling any better? You were tense all day.”
“I think so…”
“Good.”
After a few minutes in silence, James removed his hands from your body and picked up the handheld shower. The warm water ran gently, washing away the foam from your skin. When the last trace of soap was gone, he reached for the edge of the tub and opened the drain, letting the water slowly begin to empty.
Turning his back to you, he gave you privacy to remove your clothes. When you told him it was okay to turn around, he came back, wrapped your back with a soft towel, and helped you sit on a dry chair.
Unfortunately, you weren’t very lucky with clothes. He allowed you to put on your underwear, but insisted on helping you into the nightgown. You didn’t really understand why, if he had let you bathe fully clothed earlier, why not give you privacy now? But you figured it was probably because it would be faster with his help.
Once you were dressed, he picked you up and carried you to bed. You were already feeling quite drowsy. He pulled one of the soft blankets up to your shoulders.
“You can sleep now, darling. Once I’m done, I’ll come lie down with you.” He returned to the bathroom, likely to take his own shower.
Your gaze fixed on the bedroom ceiling, mind already turning over what to do the next day. Maybe it would be a good idea to start looking for places to hide things that could help you escape.
Your thoughts didn’t get much further than that, you drifted off to sleep.
After some time, you woke up to the gentle touch of a hand caressing your cheek. Your eyes opened slowly, still heavy with sleep, and you turned your face toward the touch, finding James watching you with a tender expression.
“Sorry… I didn’t mean to wake you.” he said in a low voice, one that sounded genuinely regretful.
You remained silent for a moment, just observing him. He was shirtless, a few drops of water still trickling down his chest, likely from his damp hair after the shower.
“Don’t do that again” your voice came out more sleepy than firm as you pulled your face away from his hand and turned your back to him. The pain in your thigh was still there, but no longer intense enough to keep you from sleeping on your back.
You expected him to respect your space and leave you alone, but he didn’t. James came up behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist, pulling you gently close to his body.
“You seemed to be enjoying yourself in the bath… How about we continue that?” he whispered, his hands sliding along your body.
The irritation that erupted inside you made you open your eyes, fully awake. “I don’t want to.” you said firmly.
But he didn’t back off. His hand began to roam your thighs. “You can go to sleep while I help you relax. I know you’re exhausted.”
You reacted quickly, grabbing his wrist and pulling it away “I said I DON’T want to!”
With his other hand, he grabbed your wrist that was holding his and squeezed hard until you were forced to let go. “Let me go, you’re hurting me!”
He was silent for a moment, then asked with a voice mixed with confusion and irritation “Why are you acting like this?”
“Acting like what…” you started to say, but didn’t get to finish. In a swift move, he pulled you, turning your body onto your back and climbing on top of you. Your hands were now pinned under his, firmly held against the mattress.
“Why are you acting like this?! You never cared about this before!” His voice was explosive, filled with rage. He seemed on the verge of losing control, tired of your resistance after a whole day.
“I didn’t care when we were together, but now we’re not.” You try to pull away from his grip “How many times do I have to explain this to you?! You destroyed everything when you cheated on me!”
“I’m trying to fix it! I really am!” His voice now trembled, and his eyes dropped to his collarbone, avoiding your gaze. “I know what I did was wrong, I just… I just thought…”
“Thought what?!” Your voice came out firm. It was like suddenly he was the victim in the story.
“I thought you didn’t love me…” he continued, his voice softer. “I knew how you were, but I thought I could change you. I thought that, by being with me, you’d be more affectionate.”
Your eyes widened and you felt them start to water, had he never seen your efforts?
“So… you never saw what I did for you?”
“I thought you were doing those little gestures because you felt sorry for me. I didn’t think it meant you were changing…”
You looked away and stayed silent, swallowing the pain of his indifference toward everything you had given. The silence caught his attention, and he leaned in, trying to see your face.
“That’s why I went after someone else! I just wanted to be loved. I thought what I was getting from you… wasn’t love.”
“You’re a horrible person.” The firmness in your words before completely vanished, and the tears you’d been holding back started to fall.
“Just like you, [Name].” The coldness in his voice surprised you, and you turned your gaze toward him.
“Tell me… Who was there when you were bullying at school, huh? Who cleaned up the mess you left behind? Who took care of the people you hurt just to make sure no one reported you?”
“I… I know. I know I was a horrible person, but…”
“You weren’t, you are!” he growled, tightening his grip on your wrists even more. “And that’s why only I can understand you.”
“You’re wrong! I’m not like that anymore!” you rebelled again, your eyes burning with anger and fear. “Unlike you, I’m trying to change! I really am!”
"Change?" he leaned in until your faces were almost touching. "You murdered someone just a few months ago… Do you really think you’re going to become a police officer after that? Do you think anyone’s going to forgive you?"
As much as you try to fight it, deep down you know he’s right. You swore you would change. Promised yourself you’d become someone better, someone worthy of forgiveness.
But the guilt that haunts you can’t silence one thought, that woman… She deserved what happened. Just like the man currently on top of you does too.
"But… I forgive you." His voice came out soft, almost compassionate, as he released your wrists. You pulled them back toward your body, shielding them like you were trying to erase the marks of his touch.
"You killed her because of me… I know I’ll never be able to repay what you did for me, but I want to spend the rest of my life devoted to you."
He wiped away the tears you hadn’t even realized had fallen, then sealed your lips with a gentle kiss.
His words echoed in your mind, and even though you didn’t want to admit it…You knew he was right.
Deep down, the truth was already clear to you.
Months went by, and you admit it wasn’t as bad as you thought it be. Now that your thigh has fully healed, you’re able to walk around the house with ease. After so many renovations, the place no longer feels like a simple home, it’s practically become a mansion.
James allows you to walk around the island as well. That filled you with hope at first, you even believed you might find other people there. But, over time, you realized that the only figures crossing your path were always the same men, guards. Guards at the gates, guards along the trails, guards watching from afar. Guards everywhere.
He seems determined to make all your dreams come true. He’s always speaking with enthusiasm about the things you once said you wanted, going out of his way to recreate scenes he claims were meaningful to you. And truthfully, many of them are. But none of it feels real to you, not when it's all happening because of the wrong person.
The only demand James imposes is that you spend time with him every day. He works from home most of the time, but on certain days, he needs to leave for the office. It’s during those intervals that you’ve had your best chances to explore the house and the island, still within the limits he set, of course.
Communicating with the guards has been a challenge from the beginning. Most of them wouldn’t even look in your direction. They were always on high alert, eyes scanning the surroundings as if they were being watched constantly, as if someone could threaten them with just a glance.
After trying for a long time, you finally managed to get a few words out of one of them. He worked at the main entrance of the house and seemed to be more than just a watchman, he acted like a personal bodyguard. On the island, he was only known as “T.”
You couldn’t speak freely. All communication had to be done through notes, since, according to him, all the guards were required to wear embedded earpieces in their uniforms, monitored at all times.
T told you he was there because of a personal debt to James. Years ago, James had saved his son’s life, and ever since then, he felt obligated to repay that gesture with loyalty.
At first, you thought it would be nearly impossible to make him see your situation for what it was. But, to your surprise, T understood everything faster than you expected. The truth is, he already suspected. He already felt that something was deeply wrong with that place. As grateful as he was, he still knew how to tell right from wrong. With T’s help, the two of you came up with a plan where every detail was carefully calculated. You knew that if it failed, you wouldn’t get another chance.
After all that time waiting, the day finally arrived.
At that moment, you were sitting on James’s lap while he worked. In the past few days, he’d been dedicating himself to work late into the night, and because of that, you had to adapt your own routine, sleeping during the day and living like a true night owl.
Of course, you complained, but James simply said it was temporary and that he wanted you to get used to it. Though it had been difficult at first, the new routine ended up creating unexpected opportunities, now you were able to hide the items you'd been gathering for your escape much more easily.
Your fingers moved delicately as you worked on a new amigurumi, inspired by a character you’d recently seen on television. It had once been a hobby you practiced out of obligation in prison, but it had since become a way to relax.
When James discovered your new hobby, he was so delighted that he dedicated an entire room for you to work in. Whenever he could, he’d join you, eager to learn. Since you didn’t have much patience for teaching, he tried to learn on his own, watching you closely. You even felt a bit sorry for all the puncture wounds on his hands and eventually decided to help him. You had a feeling he did it on purpose.
Your thoughts were interrupted when you felt a head rest gently on your shoulder.
“This character is cute… I didn’t know you liked them.”
You shrugged, eyes still focused on the precise stitching. “Their look got stuck in my head, so I decided to use the inspiration.”
He stayed quiet for a moment, watching you as your fingers danced between yarn and needle. Only when he noticed the hours slipping by did he finally move.
“I’m going to make something for us to eat, darling. Want to join me?”
“Wouldn’t that be breakfast? It’s nearly sunrise.”
“You could call it that.”
“Not now” you replied after pretending to think for a moment. With care, your fingers adjusted a loose strand of the amigurumi’s hair. “I want to finish this first.”
You stood slowly and walked over to the bed with the doll in hand, your eyes never leaving it for even a second.
“As you wish.” He walked to the door, but before leaving, he cast one last glance over his shoulder. “There's something for you in the wardrobe. Please try it on.”
That caught your attention and made you lift your head, but he was already gone. Fortunately, this has been happening often in recent days. He’d been leaving more frequently, which although strange had opened the window you needed to finally start planning an escape with T.
You opened the wardrobe and found a luxurious golden box. Carefully, you pulled it out and placed it on the bed. As you opened it, your heart sank.
No… this couldn’t be what you were thinking.
You took out the elegant dress and examined it closely. Yes, it was exactly what you feared.
The fancy wedding dress looked like it had been tailored specifically for you. So that’s why he had been going out so much. The flowers, the decorations, the candles… He was planning a beach wedding.
A small note fell from the dress
“Tonight will be a special night. I hope you liked it.”
You felt challenged, as if the day you were planning to be the best of your life was, in fact, going to be his.
Even if every part of you wanted to tear the dress apart with your bare hands, you knew you had to wear it. If James came back and noticed you hadn't put it on yet, he’d insist on helping you.
You headed to the bathroom and tried on the dress. It was truly beautiful… You didn’t expect it to look that good on you.
Wearing something he had picked especially for you made your skin crawl, but you couldn’t bring yourself to leave it behind now. Better to take it with you and sell it to some rich woman, you’d need a place to stay after all.
Just as you were about to take the dress off, James appeared in the doorway. Seeing the opened box on the bed, he said "Having trouble, darling? I’m almost done, I’ll be back to help you in a minute."
Almost done?! You glanced at the clock.
05:34
You’d spent more time on this than you intended, it was better not to waste another second. T had probably already left the hammer hidden by the window, just as planned. You walked over, and there it was. You picked it up and examined it carefully, it was heavy and solid, strong enough to do real damage, no doubt about it.
You felt guilty for not telling T this part of the plan. But if everything went the way it was supposed to, you wouldn’t be here when he found out the truth.
Cautiously, you peeked through the bedroom door. In the kitchen, James stood with his back to you, focused on stirring something on the stove.
Your heart pounded.
What if he turns around now?
Your eyes stayed fixed on his neck, more precisely the base of it.
Medulla oblongata.
If you hit the right spot, it would be an instant death. At least, that’s what one of his medical books said.
You inhaled deeply, trying to steady the anxiety tightening your chest. Your eyes didn’t stray for a second, waiting for the moment his guard would drop.
Finally, you decide to act. You begin walking slowly toward him from behind, both hands hidden behind your back, gripping the hammer tightly. With your other hand, you discreetly lift the hem of the dress to avoid making any noise on the floor.
He remains unaware, but as you get close enough, you notice a slight shiver running down his shoulders, he must have sensed your presence “Darling, you…” he begins to say, turning slowly, but you don’t let him finish.
In one swift motion, you raise the hammer and strike the base of his neck. The sound of the impact makes your entire body tremble. You take a step back, fear and adrenaline flooding every sense. Your eyes squeeze shut in a desperate attempt to shield yourself from the horror of what you’ve just done, but the heavy thud of his body hitting the ground forces you to open them again. James lies motionless.
You did it.
You struck the medulla oblongata.
Even so, the tight knot in your throat refuses to loosen. You know he won’t wake up, but the anxiety doesn’t go away.
You step back from the body slowly, knowing now is the time to run to find T. The sooner you get off this island, the better.
You walk to the door and cast one last glance at the fallen body.
“I promised I’d kill you when I got out of prison, didn’t I?” you murmur before running out of the house.
You struggle to run through the island’s forest. Branches snag at your dress, as if the island itself is trying to stop you from leaving. The ground is wet, covered in slippery leaves, and raindrops feel like blades against your skin. T had told you he secured a boat for you to get out of here, but the trail he left for you to follow seems to be dissolving in the rain.
Just keep running, [Name].
After a few minutes, something red catches your eye, caught on a branch. It’s the ribbon T promised to use to mark the path. You pick up your pace, heart pounding.
When you reach the shore, you see the boat. T is there, soaked, trying to get the engine to start. He turns around with a smile on his face.
“You made it!” he says, placing his hands on your shoulders as you catch your breath. “The forest and the rain really didn’t go easy on you. Are you okay?”
You glance down at the countless cuts covering your skin. The pain is just starting to pulse now, as if adrenaline had put your nerves to sleep.
“Yeah, yeah, just some scratches,” you try to ease his worry. “So, how are things?”
“All according to plan” he replies, opening a compartment at the bottom of the boat. “Food, clothes, gas…”
You nod at each item he points out.
“You better hurry, we don’t know when James will wake up.”
“…Yeah, I better go.” you say as you step in, more worried about leaving before he discovers the truth.
T helps you get settled. When everything is ready, you turn to him, feeling a mix of relief and gratitude.
“I… I really want to thank you. I couldn’t have escaped without your help.”
He hands you the last bag of food and pats your shoulder. “Don’t worry, it’s the right thing to do. I hope you…” Before he finishes, you hear a gunshot.
T chokes, his gaze blurring. Suddenly, blood spills from his mouth, hot and dark, staining his clothes.
…What?
He falls to his knees, clutching his chest, unable to speak a word. Without thinking, you jump off the boat and kneel beside him, desperately trying to stop the bleeding.
The dress, once soaked from the rain, now stains bright red.
“We’re even now.” A familiar voice echoes behind you with a coldness that chills your blood.
You don’t want to look up. How could you?
“You’re not even going to look at me? Looks like I’ll have to make you.”
A sigh escapes your lips as something explodes next to T’s neck, right at the carotid artery. Blood spurts out, splattering your face, while his lifeless body collapses onto you.
An explosive device?
“So? Are you going to pay attention to me now?”
You feel the world spinning, but gather enough courage to lift your head. And there he is.
James.
Alive. Standing. With that damn smile. The blood drains from your face as if pulled from within, your stomach twists, and for a moment you think you’re going to throw up. Everything around you becomes noise, the sound of the sea crashing against the shore, the wind blowing through the open window, even your own heartbeat. All drowned out by his presence.
“How… How are you alive? I made sure to hit your medulla oblongata…” Your face twists in pure horror. You were certain. You had hit it!
…Right?
He laughs. A soft, almost innocent laugh, as if mocking a child who confused right with left.
“Actually, it was the occipital bone.”
He sees your terrified expression and mistakes it for confusion. He starts explaining, almost like a patient teacher.
“You hit right here.” He raises his hand and points to a specific spot on the back of his neck, the exact region you aimed at. “But this is where you needed to hit.” His finger moves just a few millimeters down.
So close.
Had you really missed by such a small margin?
Your breathing grew heavy, each inhale a struggle. You had ruined everything. The entire plan, all the risk… and worse, you had dragged an innocent into this disaster.
The blood of an innocent was now on your hands.
Before you could react, James was already crouched before you.
“See? You need me even to kill someone.”
As your tears mixed with the cold rain and the blood running down your face, he slowly ran his hand through your hair, stroking it with a disconcerting gentleness, as if comforting a frightened child.
“Now we are both sinners.” His voice was sweet, almost gentle, but carried a cruelty impossible to ignore.
He kept stroking your hair for a few more moments, silently, until something behind you seemed to catch his attention.
“The sun is rising, darling. It’s time.”
His voice sounded soft, almost serene. The same hand that just seconds before was caressing your hair now squeezed yours, pulling you firmly to stand up.
You didn’t understand what he was saying. You still couldn’t process everything that had happened. Your mind was numb, thoughts scrambled, as if your body was still there, but your consciousness was far away.
James kicked something hard away, the sound of the impact echoing on the wet floor. When you looked at what it was, you saw T’s lifeless body thrown aside as if he were nothing.
Then he wrapped an arm around your waist, holding you tightly, probably to keep your steps steady as you both started walking.
As you walk, you see a body.
Then three, four, five…
The count continues. They are everywhere, lying on the ground, blood dripping from their necks. Your dress, which before only had T’s bloodstain, now drags on the floor, stained with the blood of all the others.
James notices the movement of your gaze, the way your head slowly turns, looking at every dead face that appears in your path. “Oh, them?” he says in a casual, almost distracted tone. “I forgot the remote also detonated all the explosive devices.”
The coldness in his voice frightens you. So you killed several innocent people?
Most of the guards were there, their bodies scattered, fallen over the chairs decorated for the wedding. The room was stained with blood, the heavy, humid air carrying the strong, bitter smell of iron, making your stomach churn. You tried to vomit but couldn’t. A lump in your throat seemed to tighten everything, leaving you breathless.
He walked beside you with an unsettling calmness, his eyes reflecting the pale light of dawn. James stopped in the center of the altar, where blood splatters from the guards covered the floor, now also marked by the soles of his shoes.
“Isn’t it beautiful?” said the soft, almost reverent voice. “I arranged everything so it would be exactly the way you like it. I wish I could have done more, but I admit that at this moment, I couldn’t ask for a better situation.”
You looked around, the contrast between the horrible scene and his words sending chills down your spine.
He turned to you, took a small box from his pocket, and with a slow movement, opened it, revealing a ring that softly gleamed, reflecting the faint light of the rising sun. Carefully, he took the ring from the box and slid it onto your finger.
“Now, after all this time, we are married.”
You mustered the strength to say something, your voice barely a whisper: “…I don’t remember saying yes.”
An enigmatic smile appeared on his lips. “I’m sure you would have accepted in the end.”
Before you could respond, he gently held your hand, almost in contrast with all the violence surrounding you, and brought your fingers to his lips. He kissed the newly placed ring on your finger with an almost ceremonial care. Then, he softly pulled your hand and guided you behind the altar.
When your feet touched the cold sand, the icy water soaked your feet, making you shiver. James took off his jacket and wrapped his arms around you.
“Do you remember the dance we were practicing?” he asked, adjusting the jacket around your shoulders. “It’s been quite a while, but I still remember every step.”
You let out a soft sigh, not of impatience, but of indignation. You turned your face to the side, trying to avoid looking at him. But he wouldn’t allow it. With two fingers, he held your chin and turned your face back to him.
“It’s alright, I’ll guide you.”
He takes the first step, slow and steady, gently pulling you. Your feet slide against his, forced to keep pace with his rhythm. You want to rebel, to show your anger, to run away. But you can’t.
Do you even deserve to want anything?
His hands grip your waist firmly, guiding every movement. In a smooth turn, he spins you around, then pulls you back.
The innocent people whose blood is now on your hands can feel nothing.
He lifts you out of the water, your body suspended for a moment before touching the ground again.
You should just stop resisting and stay with him. You wouldn’t be happy, but wouldn’t that be a fair way to pay for your sins?
Then, he positions you with your back against his chest.
You’re not important enough for your death to pay for the lives lost because of you. Would the death of a bad person like you even be enough to repay the innocent lives?
Without letting go of your hand, he leans you back, his arm firmly supporting your arched body.
You promised you would change, that you would become someone better than you were in the past. Maybe you have no salvation.
You both spin together, and water splashes at your feet.
Actually, it would be hypocrisy. It’s like you’re forgetting what you did.
He slides back to the middle with you.
Then stay suffering, being unhappy.
In one last step, he pulls you close to him.
It’s the only thing you can do anyway.
Your breaths come in gasps as the dance ends. Your thoughts are interrupted when he begins to speak.
“I’m willing to spend eternity by your side, until your sins are forgiven, my sinner.”