Laughter cracked through the bar like broken glass, sharp, loud, layered over music that pounded like a second heartbeat. The lights blinked in seizure pulses, bathing the room in flashes of red, then blue, then nothing. Heat curled off bodies pressed too close, the air thick with sweat, smoke, and the sour-sweet scent of spilled liquor.
Eris sat at the edge of it all. One hand curled around a half-empty glass, the other resting limp on her thigh. The drink tasted like fake fruit and gasoline, sugar covering the burn. She'd only drunk half. That was enough.
Her brain still worked. Her walls still stood.
Across from her, Clara was halfway gone, cheeks flushed, hair a mess, and that drunk sparkle in her eyes that meant trouble with a cherry on top.
"You're so damn pretty, but boring as hell," Clara accused, jabbing a finger toward her like she was the disappointment of the party gods. "Half a drink? That's it? Tragic."
Eris raised an eyebrow. "I'm still sober. Isn't that the whole point?"
Adam laughed. Low. Rough. Almost like he didn't mean to.
He leaned in closer, breath warm and laced with whiskey. Most people would've backed off. She didn't. Maybe shouldn't. But didn't.
"Oh, she's sober, Clara," he said, eyes not leaving Eris's face. "That's exactly what makes her dangerous."
She smirked. Half-hearted. All teeth. "You again?"
"Just stating facts," Adam shrugged, but the look in his eyes said otherwise, like he was reading a script no one else got to see. "Girls like you... when you do play, it's the rest of us who end up drunk."
Fuck.
Her skin prickled. Heat climbed her neck. It wasn't the drink.
Still, she didn't blink. Didn't flinch. Her smile curled higher, lazy, sharp, like a blade unsheathed under velvet. She wasn't even sure why she was playing back. But her mouth moved anyway.
"So I'm poison now?"
"If you are," Adam said, voice low, "I'll drink every last drop."
Clara screamed. "OH. MY. GOD. Somebody get me a camera. I want this in 4K."
Laughter broke out again, loud and messy. Mira ducked behind Clara like she wanted to disappear. Even Leon, far end of the couch, arms crossed, spine straight like he was allergic to fun, glanced their way. He paused his drink long enough to speak, voice flat and unimpressed.
"Cheap flirting," he muttered. "Like watching a soap opera with bad lighting." Eris laughed. Not loud. But real.
And hell… That scared her more than anything else.
Because for once, she wasn't thinking about cracked ceilings or empty kitchens or the sound of glass breaking in the next room. She wasn't counting exits. Wasn't bracing for a voice raised too loud or silence that lasted too long.
The noise, the chaos, the pointless games, it was peace, in its own fucked-up way.
She let go of her glass. Sank deeper into the couch that reeked of old smoke and older mistakes.
And for one moment, just one… Her mind didn't run back. It stayed. Right here. In the now.
Laughter. Sharp words. A gaze that held heat she shouldn't want. She smiled, eyes half-lidded.
Goddamn it. I might actually be having fun.
Leon, the one who usually blended into the background like a shadow with a name, lifted his glass halfway. His voice sliced clean through the noise, flat, steady, just loud enough to carry.
"Next round. Most Likely To."
Not a question. Not a suggestion. Just one of those quiet commands that slid under your skin and stayed there.
Eris barely glanced his way. But she heard it, that tone. The one that said he saw more than he should, more than anyone wanted him to. Leon's signature move: silence sharpened into a scalpel.
Adam was already nodding, too eager. "Love this game. It's like pulling off people's masks with your teeth."
Clara, predictably, was two steps ahead in chaos. "Yesss. Let's gooo." She tossed a handful of stale popcorn into the air like it was confetti and not just crumbs.
Leon sat a little straighter. His gaze slid, slow, deliberate, from face to face, reading them like files he'd already annotated.
Then he stopped.
On her.
"Most likely to manipulate everyone in this room... and still look like the victim."
Boom.
The room didn't fall silent, it just went off-frequency, like someone dunked the night underwater. Voices blurred. The music dulled. Every laugh and clink turned to static.
Eris felt something freeze under her ribs.
Just for a second.
Then instinct kicked in. Don't flinch. Hold the line. React too fast and they think you're guilty. Wait it out. Let the silence do the work.
Clara gave a weak laugh. "Whew. Okay, that got dark fast." Adam leaned forward. "You serious, man?"
Leon shrugged. Took a drink. "I answered the question." It didn't sting, exactly. But it stuck. Of course it was aimed at her. No name needed. Just the clean slice of it, surgical and precise.
She didn't snap. Didn't glare. Didn't break. What she did do, was smile. Tight. Almost too polite. The kind of smile that looked normal to people who weren't paying attention.
She leaned back again, keeping her eyes on him, steady as hell. "Well. If everyone's happy, why not let them believe what they want?"
Adam let out a bark of laughter. "That is the most Eris answer I've ever heard."
Mira, bless her anxious soul, held her breath like she thought something might explode. Her gaze ping-ponged between Eris and Leon like she was watching a knife fight without any knives.
Leon blinked. Slow. Blank. And that? That was the part that itched. Not the accusation. Not the crowd. But the fact that she couldn't read him.
No edge. No smirk. No tells. Just… void.
God, she hated that.
It wasn't shame curling under her skin. Wasn't guilt, either. She'd own it if it were. But this, this tension humming under her ribs like a warning shot before the war even started?
That was something else.
Shit. Round one.
And already, the air in the room felt one degree hotter.
"My turn!" Clara chirped, scooting forward like a kid unwrapping birthday gifts. Eyes wide. Voice too excited. Trouble practically sparkling off her skin. "Okay, listen. Most likely to have... too many exes or future situationships to count."
Of course.
She even raised her brows like she was on stage, twisting her body slowly, dramatically, like this was theater and not just a slow-motion character assassination.
Nobody bought the act. Everyone already knew where this train was heading.
Then she pointed. Fast. Precise.
Right at Adam.
"You," she said, grinning like she'd just cracked the damn code. "Obviously. No contest."
Adam's smirk was the slow kind, the kind that didn't rush to arrive but hit harder when it did. He leaned back, easy, shoulders lifting like the accusation weighed nothing.
"I'm offended," he said, voice low, loose, laced with lazy charm. But there was a spark in it, too. Something slicker. Sharper. "I'm more of a man of quality than quantity."
Clara snorted. "Please. You flirt with anything that has a pulse." Adam tilted his head, lazy-like. Then looked at her.
Eris.
"Correction," he murmured, eyes locked on hers, voice like velvet dipped in gasoline. "I flirt with people who flirt back."
Heat crawled under her skin. Slow. Invasive.
She didn't blink, didn't break, just gave him a half-smile. One of those smiles. The kind that said: Don't even start, asshole. The kind that came with a warning label.
But her heart? Betrayed her like a little bitch. One beat. Two. Three. Each one louder than it needed to be.
Great.
She'd only had half a drink and her body was already acting like she'd downed the whole damn bottle. Or maybe it wasn't the liquor. Maybe it was the fact that she was sitting too close to danger, disguised as a joke with a crooked grin and bedroom eyes.
Then Leon, because of course Leon, cut in with a dry shot from the corner.
"If all your exes lined up, you'd need a separate ZIP code just to manage the queue."
Adam chuckled, all breath and gravel. It sank between the clinking glasses and half-drunk music, smooth as sin.
"Jealousy doesn't suit you, Leon," he said, lips twitching. "Ruins that whole cold-but-deep mystery vibe you're going for."
Eris looked at them both, one by one. Sharp angles, sharper words. And yeah, maybe just for tonight... she'd let herself enjoy the chaos. Let herself pretend it was just a game.
But she hadn't forgotten one thing: The loudest rooms could still hide silence. The ones who laughed the most? Usually had the sharpest knives.
That included her. That included Adam. And that bastard Leon, too.
Adam spun his empty bottle slowly, like it still had something left to say. His fingers tapped along its neck, random rhythm, sharp edge.
Eyes unfocused. Or maybe too focused. On everyone and no one, until they landed, precisely, purposefully, on her.
"Most likely to," he said, low. More breath than voice, slipping between the bass and scattered laughter, "…kiss someone they pretend they don't want."
Silence cracked in the beat that followed. Then, chair legs scraped. And just like that…
Boom.
"Oh my God," Clara exploded, voice slicing through the air like sirens made of glitter and gossip. She slapped the table, half-screaming, half-cackling, loving the drama like it was dessert.
Leon, always emotionally constipated, arched one unimpressed brow. "Here we go. Adam collecting women like loyalty cards again."
"I'm just playing the game," Adam replied, smooth as sin, not even trying to deny it. His smirk was knife-thin. "Anyone who can't handle it is welcome to sit this round out."
Mira giggled, soft, quiet, the kind of sound that still counted as a yes. She didn't need to say it. The silence around her already agreed:
Adam was a player.
Eris didn't laugh. Not yet. She sipped her drink instead, half-hiding behind the glass, letting the rim mask the heat already crawling up her neck.
God, it was hot in here. Or maybe it was just him. Sitting there with that lazy posture and that I-know-your-dirty-thoughts smirk.
She tilted her head, slow. Let her gaze hold his just a beat too long. Then she lifted one eyebrow, nothing big. Just a tiny little rebellion.
"What about the ones who pretend they don't want it," she asked, tone light as lace but sharp beneath, "…when all they really want is a lesson in how to do it right?"
Clara screamed. Mira gasped and slapped a hand over her mouth like she'd witnessed a murder.
Leon, fucking statue Leon, didn't say a word, but his chin lifted half an inch. Either impressed or just annoyed that Adam finally got a taste of his own medicine.
Adam didn't move. For a second, two, maybe, he just looked at her. Really looked.
Those eyes, dark brown, too intense, too old for someone so young, sank in like heat under skin. His lips parted like he was gonna say something reckless.
But he didn't. Not yet. He just smiled. Slow. Heavy. Dirty. Knowing.
"Then I guess," he murmured, voice low enough to make her pulse jump, "…we'll both have to try and see which one's more dangerous."
And Eris, God help her, liked the way he played. Too much.
Everything slowed. A breath caught halfway. Eyes locked, sharp, weighted, like magnets clicking into place after too long pretending they didn't pull.
The space between Eris and Adam? Thin as a lie. One reckless move. One accidental touch. That's all it would take…
"You sure," Leon's voice dropped like a blade, flat and too fucking sharp, "you wanna learn from him?"
Boom.
Freeze-frame.
Even Clara had to slap a hand over her mouth to muffle the laugh that burst out. "OH MY GOD, LEON…"
Adam didn't flinch. Just blinked. That half-smirk still sitting on his face like it owned the room. Like he could wait all night.
Leon shrugged, calm as hell. Cracked open a soda with a hiss that cut straight through the static air like a smartass punctuation mark.
"I'm just sayin'. Could get addictive. Real inconvenient."
Fuck.
One line. One stupidly well-timed, smug-ass line, and it hit direct. Right in the spot she didn't want anyone aiming for.
Eris felt it before she could stop it: The burn under her skin. That slow, traitorous heat crawling up her neck, flushing her cheeks like a busted secret.
Worse? She knew.
She knew she was reacting.
Heart still slamming out the rhythm of almost, almost, almost, and that bastard Leon just called it out like he was narrating a crime scene.
Her smile faltered. Blinked too fast. Like maybe if she moved quick enough, she could clear the image off her mind's screen before it hit full-color fantasy.
"Wow," Clara whispered, eyes wide and way too interested. "Babe… your face. You're blushing. And you haven't even drunk that much."
Yeah. Cool. Just bury her already. Lower the fridge door and shove her in. Eris forced a grin. Late. Too late. And definitely not chill. "It's hot. AC's trash."
Clara lost it again. Mira giggled behind her hand. Like this was a damn sitcom.
Adam? Still watching. Not saying a word. But his eyes… God, those eyes.
He knew. He saw everything. That look wasn't casual. It was a promise, wrapped in patience, waiting for round two.
And in the middle of all the chaos, laughs, heat, soda hisses and half-finished sentences, one thing carved itself into her spine:
He hadn't even touched her. But her body was already memorizing what almost felt like.
Goddamn.
"Don't run off so fast, Ris." Adam's voice, low, slow, dripped like honey laced with something that could ruin you. "You still haven't answered my challenge."
Eris smirked. Barely. She grabbed her glass, mostly just to keep her hands busy and her mouth from saying something stupid. Like "Try me."
"I did answer," she said, calm. "I answered by staying silent."
"And silence means yes, or…"
"...boring," Leon cut in like a blade through silk. Flat tone, razor-sharp. "You always do this. Stir the pot, then walk away like you didn't burn the damn kitchen."
Adam laughed, quiet, unbothered, smug as hell. "Part of the charm."
Leon didn't even blink. Just tossed it out there like weather talk. "If you're curious, maybe ask Clara. Or Mira."
The rim of Eris's glass paused against her lips.
Her eyes flicked to Clara, who suddenly found the ceiling wildly fascinating. Then Mira, poor sweet Mira, already curling in on herself like a shrinking apology.
Eris blinked once. Slow. Measured.
"You're serious?" Leon raised a brow. "Literally every girl on this team has kissed him."
Silence.
The kind that doesn't echo, just burns.
Clara shot her hand up, grin a little too tight. "One time! And I was wasted, okay? Doesn't count!" Mira didn't say anything. Didn't have to. Her entire face was fire engine red.
Adam leaned back like the world was his sofa and everyone else just lived on it. Like this messy little scandal was a scene he'd already rehearsed. "It was all mutual. No lines crossed, no hearts harmed."
"Except for self-respect," Leon muttered.
Eris looked at him again. This guy. This cocky bastard who almost kissed her. Who clearly had a habit of sampling from the company fridge.
And the worst part? The truly infuriating part? She didn't feel immediately disgusted.
"Wow." Her voice came out flat, but that flick at the end? A spark with teeth. "So I'm... what? The next name on the list?"
Adam tilted his head. Smiled that slow, slanted smile like he knew exactly what he was doing to her. "I prefer to call it… an opportunity."
Fucking hell.
If that's how he wanted to play it, maybe she should kiss him. Just to prove it wouldn't mean a damn thing. But the real problem?
She wasn't sure it wouldn't. And that? That was dangerous. Goddamn. And it wasn't even halfway through the night.