Chapter 3.

Amira's POV

My mother's words replayed in my head like a broken record, but somehow, they felt like whispers against the pull I felt toward Declan.

Because how do I keep my distance from someone whose smile feels like sunlight after a week of rain?

Days passed, and my friendship with Brianna stayed the same on the surface , we still laughed between classes, and ate lunch together in the cafeteria.

Declan on the other hand was all over me, he had not officially said anything to me, but I had a feeling he was going to be my first boyfriend soon.

***

The following day, I was not really expecting the question.

One minute, Declan and I were talking casually in the hallway about the chemistry project. The next, he was looking at me with that easy grin that made my heart trip over itself.

“Amira,” he said, leaning on the locker beside mine. “Would you… would you go to prom with me?”

For a moment, the noise of the corridor faded into a dull hum. I just stared, my brain taking a full two seconds to process that Declan, popular, untouchable Declan, had just asked me. My cheeks burned, and I could feel my voice hitch in my throat.

“Yes,” I blurted, too quickly, too loudly. Then I laughed, clutching my books to my chest to hide my nervous excitement. “I mean… yes. I would love to.”

His grin widened, the kind that made it impossible to think straight.

“Great.” he said, then, almost casually, “Also… I could really use some help with calculus. I am hopeless at it. Would you… maybe come over tomorrow? Coach me a little before exams begin next week?”

“Sure,” I answered without thinking, my heart doing a double somersault. First a promposal, now a freaking invitation to his house? This day was writing itself into my personal history.

I don’t even remember what I did next, except that I practically sprinted down the hall to find Brianna. She was sitting at our usual spot near the courtyard, scrolling through her phone.

“Brianna!” I gasped, dropping into the chair opposite her. Wendy rolled her eyes in disdain as she noticed me, but I ignored her. “You are not going to believe what just happened!”

Brianna looked up, curiosity sparking. “What?”

I grinned so wide my cheeks hurt. I was still surprised that a day like this would come that I could freely talk to Brianna like this. “Declan asked me to prom.”

For a brief second, her face lit up, her eyes widening in genuine surprise. “Oh my gosh, Amira! That is super amazing! Wow! I really love this for you.”

Her voice was bright, but when I added, “And… He invited me over to his place to help him with calculus.” Her facial expression shifted a bit.

Her eyes flickered, just for a heartbeat, dark and unreadable, like a shadow passing over the sun. Then it was gone, replaced by her practiced smile. “Wow, that’s… that is great. You must be over the moon.”

I laughed, trying to shake off the weirdness I had just felt. “I am. I mean, it is just tutoring, but still…”

“Still.” She said, reaching out to squeeze my hand. “It is Declan. I am happy for you.”

But the warmth in her voice didn’t match the look I had caught in her eyes a moment ago. I decided not to dwell on it because I was just so excited about Declan.

***

I had never been in this part of the city before. The road seemed to stretch into another world, lined with tall oaks and sprawling lawns that whispered of money, royalty and power. When Declan’s car rolled through the massive iron gates, my breath seized.

The driveway was long, curved, and paved with black marble tiles that reflected the late afternoon sun like dark glass. The house or mansion stood at the end, three stories high, its cream walls kissed by golden light.

Declan slowed the car and parked beside a sleek black SUV.

“My parents are out for the week,” he said casually, stepping out. “We will have the place to ourselves.”

As we walked into the house, it smelled faintly of cedarwood and something richer, maybe his father's cologne. The walls were decorated with photographs and expensive-looking art, though I did not get to study them long before he led me upstairs to his room.

We settled at his desk, textbooks open, and for the first hour, I tried to keep my mind firmly on calculus. But it was hard when his arm brushed mine every now and then, or when he leaned in close to look at my notes.

I looked at his eyes and noticed how genuine they were. He listened attentively, and asked questions when necessary.

At some point, we both stopped pretending to care about derivatives and functions. His gaze lingered on mine, his smile softening. “You are a really good teacher, you know,” he murmured.

The air between us changed, warmer, heavier. I don’t even remember who leaned in first, but the next thing I knew, his lips were on mine, tentative at first, then deepening. My pulse thundered in my ears.

The kiss led to more touches, whispers, the kind of closeness that made my skin hum. By the time we pulled back, breathless, I could see passion and satisfaction written all over his face.

I knew I should stand, leave, run, but I did not. I wanted to know what it felt like to be wanted this way. I had never kissed anyone before. Never been held like this. I was naive, yes, but my curiosity burned brighter than my caution.

When his lips finally touched mine again, it was gentle, so gentle this time I almost wondered if he was holding back again. I leaned into him, my pulse quickening. His hand slid to the back of my neck, pulling me closer, deepening the kiss. My thoughts scattered like petals in the wind.

We didn’t rush. The air between us felt charged, dangerous, intoxicating. Every moment was a new discovery, his scent, his warmth, the way my body seemed to know what to do without ever having done it before. It was painful and sweet at the same time, as he plunged deeper and deeper inside of me.

When it was over, I lay beside him, breathing unevenly, my cheeks flushed. He smiled faintly, but the wideness of the smile was smaller this time. Passion and satisfaction still lingered in his expression, but behind it… his eyes seemed far away, consumed with guilt.

I touched his arm. “Declan… are you okay?”

He blinked, forcing a smile. “Yeah. Of course.”

But I could feel it. Whatever was in his head, it wasn’t me.

But there was something else and I felt it.

He looked at me, and for a second, I thought he might say something. Instead, he just shook his head, kissed my forehead, and reached for the textbook again.

But I couldn’t shake the feeling.

Something was really off.