I bit into my chicken wrap with the kind of enthusiasm you’d use to chew through all your bad life decisions. The chicken was too chewy, the sauce a little too sweet. But at least it gave me an excuse not to talk.Aaric was still sitting across from me, fingers tapping the bottle cap like he was strategizing how to conquer another planet.“How about we just date?”I stopped chewing.The cafeteria suddenly felt too bright. Too real. The chicken wrap lost all its charm in an instant.I stared at him, sharp. “What?”“I mean… we’ve been—” He shrugged. “Spending time. A lot of it. You let me sleep in your bed. You steal my hoodie. We flirt. A lot. I figured… why not just make it official?”I stood up before I even realized I was standing.My chair screeched across the floor. The half-eaten wrap still in one hand. The other grabbing my sling bag.“You figured wrong.”“Maya—” he stood too, but I was already walking, fast, out of the cafeteria.My breath suddenly felt like a spark waiting to
I was dancing like a maniac, hands in the air, hair sticking to the back of my neck, eyeliner halfway down my cheeks, and I didn’t care. The music was too loud, the lights too bright, and everything was just blurry enough to make me forget who I was this morning.Until I felt someone standing too close.A guy. Tall. A bit of scruff. Wearing a black shirt that was way too tight. Grinning at me like we’d met before. Too chill. Too presumptuous."Hey," he said, stepping in a little too fast. "You here alone?"Before I could answer, a hand suddenly grabbed my waist and yanked me back like I was standing on the edge of a cliff.My back hit a chest. Solid, familiar, and hard in every sense of the word.Aaric.He wrapped his arm around my stomach like a suitcase lock.“She’s not,” he said, still smiling, but in a way that didn’t invite further conversation.The guy raised his hands slightly, took two steps back, and vanished into the crowd. And just as I opened my mouth to scold Aaric for ac
The New York sky that morning looked like a crumpled canvas. Bluish gray with a faint splash of orange just starting to peek through the buildings. Light filtered slowly through the large window, uncovered by curtains. And I opened my eyes, slowly, with a head heavy like it was filled with fog.The first ten seconds were quiet. Warm.The next ten, I remembered.White linen sheets were wrapped around my waist. My skin, bare. And a hand. Long, cold once, but now warm with time, resting around my stomach from behind. Someone’s breath touched the back of my neck, steady, calm... Aaric.I froze.My body knew first. Muscles stiff. My heart... it didn’t beat slow like in the movies. It pounded. Loud. Wild. Like protest. Or confession. And my mind, slowly but surely, started piecing together the night before.Flashes of the club. Kisses in the car. His hands on my hips. Soft whispers in my room.And then...I thought I’d feel afraid. But what I found was a silence heavier than guilt.I gave s
PRESENT The morning sun slipped gently through the thin curtains, painting the room with a soft golden hue. The light danced across the walls, like it was trying to wake me with careful hands.My body felt heavy. Exhausted. My muscles protested when I tried to move, and not without reason—the night had lasted too long. Far too long. As if time itself had decided to stop when Aaric dragged me into a storm of his own making.The blanket wrapped around us felt hot and thick. I could feel the warmth of his breath against the back of my neck, his strong arms coiled around my waist like chains, locking me into a hold that offered no room to retreat. Our bare skin still touched, undeniable proof of everything the night had left behind.I inhaled slowly, trying to steady the rhythm of a heart that hadn’t quite calmed down. My neck ached, my hips throbbed with a dull pulse, and one side of my body was nearly numb from being held by Aaric the entire night.Very slowly, I shifted the blanket an
I had no schedule today. For the first time in a week full of chaos, there were no production calls, no interviews, no fittings or scene rehearsals. Just an empty day… and a body far too tired to make use of it.So I decided to take a nap.The bedroom curtains were half drawn, letting in a soft light that warmed the room without being blinding. I lay down on the bed that hadn't been made since morning, my face sinking into a pillow that still held the faint scent of my shampoo, and my thoughts began to drift... slowly...Then came the sound. The door opening gently, its hinges creaking just enough to pull me out of my half-dream.That walk.I knew it. Steady, slow, and heavier than the air around me.Aaric.I didn’t open my eyes. Not yet. But I knew he was coming closer. The mattress shifted slightly under his weight as he sat at the edge of the bed. His breath was near, calm but filling the room.I kept pretending to be asleep, hoping he was just there to look... and leave. But of co
Aaric didn’t say another word after that warning.He just closed the bedroom door and disappeared downstairs. Like a storm that comes without rain, just wind that steals the breath from your lungs. I stared at the door for a while, hoping he’d come back and say something, explain something—or even yell. Anything. But there was nothing. No footsteps returning.Only silence, and the hum of the AC making the room feel even emptier.I didn’t think I’d be able to sleep again.But it turned out my body was more exhausted than my mind. Or maybe it was the constant battle inside me that wore me out until I finally gave in to the soft mattress and the cold pillow.It was a little past nine in the morning when I let my eyes close completely.And I don’t know how many minutes or hours passed before I felt something else.Not a dream.Something real. Warm. Heavy. Wrapping around me from behind.That familiar scent of mint and soap.His arm curled around my waist, his strong fingers slowly slippin
Aaric’s black car slid smoothly through the city streets, now coming alive with the glow of night. Through the window, the lights from towering buildings and luxurious billboards created the illusion of a glittering world—a world I never truly belonged to.I sat silently beside Aaric, fingers gripping my small clutch tightly, while the red silk dress hugging my body felt too revealing, too loud. My shoulders were bare, my skin almost glowing under the soft interior lights of the car. I looked like someone who knew her place—but truthfully, I had no idea what I was doing.“I feel like I’m walking into a slaughter,” I murmured under my breath.Aaric turned to me, a playful smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. “You look lethal tonight, Maya.”I scoffed and turned back to the window, but out of the corner of my eye, I could still see his gaze lingering on me. His eyes swept over my body unapologetically, like he’d carved me himself.“You’re not helping,” I muttered, feeling the heat r
My eyes swept across the room, but there was too much movement. Too many shadows. People were hiding behind chairs, tables, thick columns like the one I was behind. I started moving—crouching low, my knees nearly touching the ground—toward the wall closest to the exit.And then I heard it.“Maya!”His voice.I turned and saw Aaric across the room, half running toward me. His body was slightly hunched, one hand gripping a weapon, the other pushing aside anyone in his way. His black suit was a mess—covered in dust, wine, maybe blood—I couldn’t tell for sure.Someone blocked his path. Another armed man, a stranger’s face, clearly not one of Aaric’s people.They fought. Not just with guns. But fists. Wrestling. Punches. Aaric slammed a fist into the man’s jaw, then drove his elbow into his neck, knocking him to the ground.He came toward me. “This way!” he shouted.I rose from my hiding spot, my legs feeling like they didn’t belong to me. He grabbed me just as gunfire tore through the spo
The sun wasn’t fully up yet when I woke to a ticklish feeling.Not the alarm. Not the sunlight. But something moving slowly across my stomach—warm breath, then a soft nip at my rib. And a voice I knew far too well growling low in my ear.“What the...” I mumbled, half-asleep.“Guess who fell asleep on her laptop with the screen still on,” Aaric whispered between quiet chuckles. “And guess who’s been snoring just a little for the past two hours?”I slowly opened my eyes and looked around.We were still in the workspace. The desk lamp was still glowing dimly. My laptop screen was frozen on a half-finished presentation, the cursor blinking at a sentence that read: “Emotion and space influence each other—so honest design is living design.”My head felt heavy. My neck ached. But my body was warm.Because Aaric was still there.He was now lying on his side on the rug, facing me, his head resting against my bent leg on the couch. His hair was a mess. His eyes were barely open. But that smile—
I stared at my laptop screen for a full five minutes and still hadn’t typed a single sentence. My thesis deadline was breathing down my neck, my advisor’s voice echoing in my head, and the blank screen in front of me stared back like a bottomless pit.Then, as if to add spice to the chaos—“BRO! BROOOOO—NO WAY, DID YOU SEE THAT SNIPE?!”The voice exploded from the living room. Followed by loud laughter and half-muttered curses from the guy sitting on the floor, black headset on his head, controller gripped tight, and a triumphant expression like he just conquered the world.I looked up from my laptop and glared toward the couch where Aaric was cross-legged, surrounded by empty water bottles and chip crumbs. The TV glowed brightly, showing a fast-paced virtual war zone. Player names blinked at the edge of the screen—“Lucif3r,” “Tino_Tornado,” and of course, “Bernardi_Blast.”“Dude, did you see that?! YOU SAW THAT, RIGHT? I said ‘cover me’ and you ran off to loot? Tino, I swear, if we’r
The light from the floor lamp cast a faint silhouette on the wall, and the steady sound of rain outside made my head sink deeper into the pillow. The call with Elle and Joy had ended just a few minutes ago, and I hadn’t moved since placing my phone on my stomach.My body was tired, but it wasn’t just physical. It was the kind of exhaustion that runs deeper—the kind that comes from places that are supposed to bring you comfort, but only make it harder to breathe.I pulled the blanket up to my chest, curling into myself. My shoes were still on. My hair was half a mess. But I didn’t have the energy to care.The apartment door creaked open softly. Footsteps came in, slow, then stopped.Aaric.I didn’t open my eyes. Didn’t say anything. But I think my breathing changed, and he knew.His steps came closer, then silence again. Then something warm, heavy, and deeply familiar sank down slowly against my back. His arms wrapped around my waist, his chin touched the edge of my shoulder.I could s
I slammed the door to Aaric’s apartment a little too hard, then tossed my bag onto the couch without bothering to unpack it. The jingle of keys hitting the floor blended with the deep breath I finally let out after hours of holding it in.The New York sky was gray that night—like a mirror of my brain. And after a full day inside a house that called me family but felt more like an opera stage run by a director obsessed with reputation, I needed to hear another human voice. A real one. One not wrapped in expensive linen shirts and layered passive-aggressive remarks.I grabbed my phone and opened the Flat Fam (drama edition) group call. The screen rang once, twice, and then two faces I knew like my own popped up: Elle, with a half-dried face mask, and Joy, lying sideways wrapped in a blanket like a lazy burrito.“De Cruuuuuuuz!” Elle yelled as soon as my face appeared. “Why do you look like you just walked out of a royal family’s funeral?”Joy squinted. “You look like someone who got tra
The next morning, just past six, I woke up to the sound of running water from the bathroom. The morning air still hung damp beneath the ceiling of the flat, and from the slightly open window, I could hear the faint rumble of a garbage truck making its rounds on the back street.I got out of bed, still half-asleep, and shuffled to the kitchen, where I found a small note on the table.Meet me at the campus park at eight. Bring your sketchbook. No pink. —AA small smile tugged at my lips as I rolled up the note and tucked it into my shirt. He knew I always carried my sketchbook, and he knew pink was never my go-to color. But Aaric had this habit of turning instructions into jokes—it was his way of making sure I was still thinking about him, even when he wasn’t around.By the time I arrived at the campus park, still half-empty that early in the morning, he was already there—sitting on a bench near the small lake, wearing a gray hoodie and jeans, his face partly hidden behind a sketchbook
This city always welcomes you the same way—loud, rushed, and utterly indifferent to whether you’ve just fallen in love or lost everything.On my first morning back in New York, I didn’t wake up to sunlight streaming through the windows like in Italy. Instead, it was the impatient honking of a yellow cab down below the apartment. Maybe that was the biggest difference between the place we’d just left and the one we were returning to.Life fell right back into its old rhythm. Aaric’s apartment was cold in the mornings, the bitter coffee he brewed half-asleep in the kitchen, and the work desk still cluttered with blueprints he hadn’t touched since the night before our flight.In the living room, I sat cross-legged on the carpet, laptop on my lap, my hair still damp from the shower. Design assignments piled up on my screen, and project revisions stared at me like little monsters waiting to devour my time. But my mind kept drifting back to the villa on the hill, to the evenings filled with
Dusk had fully fallen by the time we returned to the villa.The Italian sky had turned a deep blue, with streaks of orange lingering on the horizon like the final brushstrokes of a painting that refused to be finished. The air was cooler now, crisp against my skin as I stepped out of the car. But something warm was blooming quietly in my chest, something that had started growing ever since my conversation with Luciana. Not because her words were comforting—at least, not entirely. But because beneath all that elegance and grace, I’d seen that her heart wasn’t all that different from mine.She was just a mother, loving her son in the quietest, most anxious way.And me… somewhere along the way, I had begun to love Aaric not just as a lover, but as a wound I wanted to tend to, even knowing it might never fully heal.Inside, the villa felt warmer than usual. The fireplace was already lit—by whom, I didn’t know, as no staff had appeared since we got back. The scent of burning wood mingled w
The sky had begun to shift into shades of copper as the staff brought out the afternoon coffee. The last rays of sunlight pierced gently through the garden foliage, casting abstract patterns over the small marble table. Aaric and his father were standing near the fountain, discussing something that looked serious—judging by their gestures and the way their eyes kept darting toward the edge of the estate, I guessed it was about property or a construction project.Luciana sat next to me. A pair of sunglasses hung from the collar of her cream silk blouse, and her manicured fingers held a tiny espresso cup like she was observing the world, not just sipping coffee. In the golden light of late afternoon, she looked like an editorial photo straight out of a Milan lifestyle magazine—elegant, calm, and too perfectly composed to read clearly.But I could feel something. A subtle shift. A deliberate pause.“Aaric seems... more relaxed, doesn’t he?” she said suddenly, her tone light—but not empty
Luciana Bernardi served tea like an elegant witch brewing a secret potion—every movement slow and deliberate, yet never showy. Her gaze was sharp, but not piercing. Her smile was precise, but not fake. And from the beginning to the end of our little tea session, she called me darling—in an Italian-accented English that made the word sound like a cello melody.“Darling, this lemon cake was made by our family chef,” she said, handing me a small plate. “He has a soft spot for beautiful guests who know how to appreciate good food.”Beside me, Giancarlo—whose face looked like an older, more stone-cut version of Aaric’s—gave a slow nod.“We enjoy these relaxed lunches,” he said, his voice deep and full. “No need for stiff galas or exhausting charity events. At this table, we’re just family. No ‘Bernardi.’ Just Luciana, Giancarlo, Aaric… and now, Maya.”My heart swelled a little at that. Even my fingers stopped fidgeting with the napkin in my lap.“Thank you,” I said softly, my voice catchin