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Evelyne

Penulis: Fantasy lavender
last update Terakhir Diperbarui: 2025-04-15 18:16:52

I’ve always hated mirrors.

They show too much. Too honestly.

But now—

Now, I can't stop staring.

The girl in the glass tilts her head. She’s beautiful in that haunting, aristocratic way. Rosie Miller’s beauty was always cold, like marble warmed by candlelight.

And now… it’s mine. Mother did everything so that I look like her.

The cheekbones took two surgeries. The lips were easy—subtle filler and muscle memory. I even learned how she blinked. Slowly. Like she knew the world would wait for her.

I lean in, brushing a lock of black hair behind my ear, her signature habit. I trace the light scar at my neck. A perfect replica from her dead body.

Rosie was always the star. The one with the spotlight in her eyes. The chosen daughter. The heir. The girl people died for.

But she’s dead now.

And I’m not.

I trace the curve of my jaw with one finger, still bruised faintly under the skin where the bone was shaved. Months of healing. Years of training. Voice lessons. Diary entries memorized. Even
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  • Wrapped The Bully Around My Fingers   Pearl

    The corridors buzzed with the usual low thrum of voices and footsteps and late bells. Someone bumped into me with a half-muttered apology, and I barely noticed. My satchel dug into my shoulder. Lucas walked beside me, close enough that our arms brushed every few steps, and I kept pretending it was just another morning. It wasn’t. Something felt off. Like the air was too still. Like the world was holding its breath and hadn’t told me why. We turned the corner into the west wing—the older part of the academy where the ceilings arched high and the windows wore ivy like jewelry. Our history class was just up ahead. I reached for the door handle— And then I froze. My breath caught in my throat before I even understood why. It was instinct, like a thread snapping in the center of my chest. He was there. Daniel. Sitting in the back row like he belonged, like nothing had happened. Like he hadn’t held my wrist too tight or whispered promises I hadn’t asked for. Like he hadn’t tri

  • Wrapped The Bully Around My Fingers   Pearl

    His hand stays in mine for a while, warm and steady beneath the covers. Then, slowly, his fingers shift—tracing the inside of my wrist, the hollow where my pulse flutters like wings caught in glass. I don't pull away. I can't. The world outside the bed doesn't exist. Only the hush of our breath. The weight of his eyes in the dark. He moves closer, his body a heat I could sink into, his mouth brushing the edge of my jaw. His hand slips lower, under the soft edge of my nightgown, traveling with agonizing patience. Every inch he touches feels like it's waking up from something long dead. My breath hitches when he finds the seam of me, and he pauses—not to ask, but to listen. My body gives him the answer my mouth won’t. He touches me with aching tenderness, parting me with a reverence that feels like worship. His fingertips are slow, almost shy at first, coaxing heat from nerves I’d forgotten how to feel. It’s not about power. Not hunger. It’s presence. The kind that makes me ac

  • Wrapped The Bully Around My Fingers   Pearl

    The castle is quiet when I return—too quiet. My footsteps echo down the stone hallways, the torches flickering on the walls as if reacting to my presence. The shadows here don’t whisper like they did in the graveyard, but they linger all the same. I keep my head down as I move through the halls, fingers curled tightly in my coat sleeves. The dirt from the grave still clings to my skin, under my nails, and I feel like I’ve brought something back with me. Something that doesn’t want to let go. Lucas isn’t here. The thought drops into my mind like a stone in water, rippling through everything. No echo of boots in the corridor. No impatient voice behind a closed door. No sharp, observant eyes following me. He’s gone. Somewhere far from here tonight. That should bring relief, but instead it leaves a hollow space. Because now, I’m alone with everything I’m afraid to think about. In the room, I lock the door behind me and head straight to the washbasin. The water’s already cold. I

  • Wrapped The Bully Around My Fingers   Pearl

    I found her in the west corridor this time, standing by the tall stained-glass windows that bathed the hallway in shards of color. Evelyne. Or at least—that’s who she truly was. She turned when she heard my footsteps, her practiced smile snapping into place, all sweetness and lies. A chill ran down my spine. She looked exactly like me, like Roslyn Miller. she was Rosie. But, I wasn't seeing the stranger she pretended to be anymore. I was seeing her. My sister. The girl who used to braid my hair too tight and steal the last slice of birthday cake. The girl who cried in my arms when she got nightmares. She'd grown. Taller. Sharper. More dangerous. But there was still something familiar in the set of her mouth, the guarded look in her eyes. Something broken. I stopped a few feet away, and for a second, neither of us said a word. The weight of everything we weren't saying pressed down on my chest like a stone. Finally, she spoke. Casual. Breezy. "You keep fo

  • Wrapped The Bully Around My Fingers   Pearl

    It had been a week. Seven days of pretending to be Pearl. Of swallowing down the truth like a secret that might rot me from the inside out. No one noticed. Not really. They still called me by the name that wasn’t mine. Still treated me like the girl who arrived at the academy dazed and forgetful. Still saw the version of me they expected to see. But I saw it. In the mirror. In the way I stood. The way my voice had softened, lilting into the same cadence Rosie used to have when she whispered to the stars from her bedroom window. I saw it in the way my fingers reached up—absent, automatic—to tuck my hair behind my ear whenever I was nervous. Just like she used to do. Just like I used to do. Rosie was slipping out of me like light through cracked glass, and I didn’t know how to stop it. And Lucas… he noticed something. I could feel it. He didn’t say anything. But I’d catch him staring sometimes, brow creased in that quiet, careful way of his—like he was trying to

  • Wrapped The Bully Around My Fingers   Pearl

    And I screamed and screamed as loud as I can to stop the voices in my head, to hush them from consuming me entirely. The room was pitch-black, but I could still see the flames. Still hear the screech of tires, the shattering glass, the last words my mother ever said to me—Rosie, close your eyes. And I had. For years. But now they were open. Wide open. And everything hurt. The door slammed open. I barely had time to breathe before he was there—Lucas, heart in his throat, panic in his eyes. “Pearl!” He was at my side, hands cupping my face like I might vanish. “What happened? Are you okay?” I couldn’t speak. Not right away. Because looking at him felt like bleeding. He was older now. Broader. More haunted. But he still had the same eyes—the ones that used to look at me like I was his world. Not Pearl. Rosie. And that was the part that shattered me most. He was holding me like I was someone else. Like I was a girl with a different name, a different story. But I

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