The first thing Elara noticed when she stepped into the private academy's courtyard was the weight of gazes.
It wasn't just because she was late.
It was because of her—Aurora Vale—standing like a goddess in war.
Black designer blazer, tight pants, and those blood-red stilettos that made heads snap. She leaned against her obsidian car, sunglasses hiding her stormy eyes, one hand tucked in her pocket, the other holding a cigarette she hadn't lit. Her presence was fire waiting for gasoline.
Elara's stomach twisted. She hadn't seen her in days. No calls. No messages.
Not after the lakehouse.
Not after the kiss that shattered everything inside her.
She walked faster, heart beating a chaotic rhythm. But just as she passed the fountain, someone bumped into her.
"Oh, sorry—didn't see you."
A girl. Pretty. Chestnut waves. Long legs in a cheerleader skirt. American. Rich accent. Too confident.
And she wasn't alone.
The girl laughed as she caught Elara's hand to steady her. "You okay?"
Elara nodded awkwardly. "Yeah. Thanks."
"You're Elara, right?" The girl grinned. "Aurora talks about you."
Elara blinked. "She... what?"
"Yeah. A lot. I'm Mia." She let go but leaned closer, her lip gloss shining. "You're cute. I get it."
Mia winked and walked away before Elara could process anything. She turned—too quickly—only to find Aurora was gone.
The car. The cigarette. Everything.
Vanished.
---
💋 Later that evening...
Aurora's penthouse was cold when Elara arrived. A text had come hours later: "Be here by 9. Or don't come back."
No "hello." No apology.
Just that.
The lights were low, the curtains drawn. Soft jazz played in the background—nothing romantic, all tension. Like foreplay for a fight.
Elara entered slowly, heart pounding. "Aurora?"
She found her in the bedroom, half-dressed. A silk robe hung open, revealing her black lace lingerie and far too much skin. She was staring into the mirror, applying lipstick with deadly precision.
"You're late," she murmured without turning.
"It's 9:02."
"That's late in my world."
Elara folded her arms. "I saw your friend today."
Aurora's hand froze on the lipstick. Slowly, she capped it and set it down.
"Mia."
Elara nodded. "She said you talk about me."
"She talks too much."
"Did you sleep with her?"
Silence. Then a smirk. "Would it matter?"
"It would matter to me."
Aurora finally turned. Her eyes were unreadable. "You're not my girlfriend."
"But I'm not your toy either."
Aurora walked toward her, slow and dangerous. "Oh, sweet girl, I never said you weren't."
Elara backed up. "You can't keep doing this. Pulling me close, then shutting me out."
"I can do whatever I want. Because you keep coming back."
"That's because—" Elara's voice cracked. "Because you make me feel like I'm the only one who matters. And then you treat me like I don't."
Aurora's face twisted—something like pain flashing before she masked it.
She reached out and stroked Elara's hair back. "Do you want the truth?"
Elara swallowed hard. "Yes."
"I don't do love. I do obsession. I destroy everything I touch. You? You're the first thing I want to keep."
Elara's breath caught.
But then Aurora stepped back. Cold again. "And that scares the hell out of me."
---
🌫️ Flashback: Aurora (age 17)
Screams.
A man's voice. Slurred. Angry.
A woman crying. Something breaking.
Aurora, younger, barefoot in silk pajamas, curled behind a velvet curtain, hands over her ears.
"You think your money makes you good? You're just a whore in diamonds!"
Crash.
Her mother sobbed. Her father screamed louder. And Aurora? She stared blankly, repeating to herself: This is not weakness. This is training.
---
🌪 Back to Present
Elara touched her hand. "Aurora... what happened to you?"
Aurora laughed bitterly. "You want a love story, baby? Wrong girl."
"I don't want a love story," Elara whispered. "I want you."
And that broke something.
Aurora kissed her—hard.
Not soft. Not gentle.
It was teeth and tongue and fire.
Elara gasped as her back hit the wall, her wrists pinned.
"You say you want me," Aurora growled, "but you talk to girls like Mia. You smile at them."
"I wasn't—"
"You make me feel jealous," Aurora hissed. "And jealousy is not safe inside me."
Elara stared into her eyes. "Then hurt me."
Aurora froze.
"Elara—"
"I'm not fragile. I'm already ruined by you. So finish it."
Aurora's lips hovered near hers. Breathing heavy. Voice breaking. "You don't understand what you're asking."
Elara cupped her cheek. "Then show me."