SERAPHINA'S POV
"Hey."
"Hey," I respond nervously, finding it hard to look into his eyes. When I finally do manage, I can't hold his gaze for long before looking away again.
I curse Kamila over and over for having this conversation on school premises. Now I have to face him with so many inappropriate thoughts dancing around in my head.
At this point, I'm scared that he might hear them.
"How are you feeling?" The tone of his voice comes out nervously, and I can immediately hear the weight of guilt hanging on it.
His question quickly reminds me of what transpired earlier and why I'm in here in the first place. Suddenly, the discussion with Kamila becomes a distant memory compared to my most recent trauma.
Flashes of my encounter with Ace flood my mind.
The way he roughly held me down, forced his lips on mine, and stole my first kiss in the worst way possible. It's not something I can easily forget by simply sleeping it off or focusing my attention elsewhere.
I can still feel the imprints of his hands on my body, like dirt on my skin.
"I'm okay," I lie anyway, choosing to sidestep the truth rather than delve into it.
Better than saying no and having to explain why I'm not okay.
There's no way I could put that experience into words right now, not while the wound is still so fresh.
He makes a sound at the back of his throat, clearly not buying it, but he doesn't probe further. He respects my desire to not dwell on the details right now.
For that, I'm grateful.
And that's why I can't betray the trust he's given me.
"What about you?" I ask, my eyes falling on his bruised fist from the blows he'd dealt.
What I really want to ask is how Ace is, but I can't imagine posing that question without it being laced with contempt and disgust. Despite what Ace did, which was undeniably awful, I can't wish him dead for it.
It's the curse of empathy.
"I hardly think you should be asking me that when you're the one who passed out-because of me," he says, a bitter chuckle escaping his lips even as pain flashes across his face.
My heart breaks, physically constricts excruciatingly from seeing him blame himself amidst this internal battle. A part of me wants to comfort him, to assure him that none of this is his fault, pull him closer and offer him as much warmth as I can give.
But then again, this isn't about him. The truth is far from my wants.
If he hadn't asked for that final favor...
"It's okay; it's over. I don't want to relive that moment again," I respond instead.
He nods, taking a step closer with his hands outstretched. I can see what he's about to do before he even does it-touch my cheeks, express his worry wordlessly, and try to comfort me.
While I recognize the innocence in his actions, something inside me recoils. Perhaps it's the realization that he's twice my size and strong enough to hold me down if he wanted to.
A warning signal fires off in my brain, and I find myself stepping back before I can fully process it.
"Can you not?" The sharp words escape my lips unintentionally.
He pulls back, visibly stung by my reaction, before he nods respectfully.
"I just don't want to be touched right now," I explain now, hoping it's enough.
"I understand."
"It's not because it's you," I add quickly.
"Sure it isn't," he says, eyes regarding me warily - like I might be slipping off the edge.
Something about it irks me. As if he's walking on eggshells. Like I'm a ticking time bomb waiting to explode.
Granted, though, emotions are tossing and turning within me-hot and cold spinning into a chaotic blend. Anger burns, partly because a side of me does blame Artemis.
However, guilt counters that anger; my heart argues that he meant well, that he couldn't have known that his friend would act so repulsively, so lewdly.
Then there's the frustration from Kamila. She is pulling me into her drama with Artemis, even though all I want is distance-from him, from the chaos he drags along into my life.
I need that distance for my sanity, to sift through my internal conflict and understand why he stirs in me feelings I know I shouldn't have - why, even now, I can't bring myself to resent his final decisions.
Suddenly, my irritation grows - unreasonably. But then, how could it be reasonable when nothing makes sense right now?
I can't even be openly angry without feeling guilty for it.
I take a deep breath that's anything but calming.
"This is pointless," I mutter. I try to walk past him, but he grabs my arm, stopping me.
"Where are you going?"
"Back to my dorm. I need space," I say, unable to keep a sharp edge from my voice.
His frown deepens, and I can swear that the light dimmed from his eyes.
"I can feel you pulling away from me, Sera. I don't like it."
That is the last straw; the final thread that snaps to unleash the madness of emotions building ruins in my mind.
"You don't like it? That's funny considering half of this is your fault. It was your idea for me to wear that dress in the first place, to put an end to this stupid contract you forced me into. You really think you have a right to air your discomfort about the situation - a situation where I might be fucking losing my mind!"
He recoils, like I'd burnt him - the color draining from his face. I can see the internal struggle playing out-guilt warring with the desire to defend himself.
"I swear, Sera, if I'd known this was going to happen, I wouldn't have even suggested the dress. I just wanted to show you-I thought you could face your fears... But of course, it blew up. With my luck when it comes to you, I should have seen it coming." His eyes drop for a second, and when he looks up at me again, my heart breaks. "You're right. This is my fault. All of it."
Fuck, Sera. Now what?
I don't want him acting this way-being the good Artemis, the logical Artemis, patient and kind, and everything nice. That version of Artemis gives me no reason to stay angry.
In fact, it makes it even harder, painstakingly difficult, to walk away from him.
Why does he have to make me feel so much regret for saying how I felt?
Normally, I wouldn't care. But now I do, and there's no avoiding it - the putrid regret resting in my gut. I shouldn't have said all that out loud.
I may have felt it just a bit, but he's clearly trying, and I know he never intended any of this. It was Ace who turned something innocent into something despicable.
Yet I want reasons to stay angry - anything at all that would make this easier.
Anger has always been easier than confronting the fragile, broken emotions that hide beneath it.
"I'm going to make up for this somehow, I promise," he says softly, beautiful blue gaze conveying the depth of his words. The desperate honesty.
I sigh and shake my head. "There's no need for that. The contract's over anyway; you don't owe me anything more. Maybe it's best if I spend some time away from you and your friends until I regain a bit of my own sanity."
Keeping my distance was always the best choice.
My gut screamed it from day one, a constant reminder I foolishly ignored. I shouldn't have taken that step down the balcony, letting momentary desires blur my judgment.
Had I stopped myself then, maybe I wouldn't be in this crazy mess now, wouldn't have been roped into a doomed plan to rekindle his love life with Kamila.
Also, this thing between us, this dangerous, inexplicable thing, wouldn't have been so damn complicated. So heart wrenching.
And I know he sees it, my inner struggle, written transparently across my face. It agitates him, confuses him. He can't wrap his mind around my need for distance, my silent cry for less chaos; less him.
"You sound as though you want to do away with me as soon as possible. I feel almost wounded by that statement."
"I'm sorry, I do want to be friends, but clearly there's so much more to that picture, Artemis - and you know it. I don't know exactly what's going on between us, if it's friendship at all, but it's impossible - somethings are just never meant to be."
"I can't stand the brutal honesty in your voice, Sera. Somehow, it cuts deeper, knowing you really mean it when you say you don't want to see me again."
I don't say anything more.
I can't do so when my heart is already ripped by the tinge of hurt in his voice. So, I turn to leave.
It's better this way-for both of us-to end it while there's less damage to either of us than there is now, before I'm forced to do things I'd rather not.
I don't go too far, reaching for the door handle to leave, when he speaks again.
"I can't give you what you want, unfortunately. The contract isn't off."
I freeze by the door, swiveling around to look back at him.
Clearly, he's lost his mind.
"What are you saying?"
"There's a clause in the master and slave agreement I didn't tell you about. It states that at the end of the contract, if the master isn't satisfied with the service, he or she can demand an extension not exceeding another month."
I stare back at him, waiting for the punchline to drop, something-anything-that tells me he's only joking, pulling some terrible prank that Jasper begged him to before I leave.
But his face doesn't falter.
The stern look in his eyes tells me he's serious.
I walk back towards him, briskly.
"You wouldn't... you can't!" I exclaim.
"You leave me no choice, Sera," he says, his eyes now icy, cutting, stripped of the warmth they held just moments ago. "Today made me realize you're not safe in school. Let me protect you, like I've been doing for the past month. I can't let you go - even if you hate me for it."
My heart breaks, shattering into a million irretrievable pieces.
"I trusted you; we had an agreement! Is this what friendship means to you? You can't possibly do this to me!" My voice elevates, each word punctuated with disbelief and betrayal, as I take hurried steps to close the distance between us, my breaths coming out ragged.
Even in my fury, my eyes plead with him - desperate, begging.
His face almost cracks, his blue eyes almost softens as he draws closer, eating up whatever little distance stopped his body from being close enough to touch mine.
A dark resolve settles right there on his face, unflinching as he searched my gaze, breathing softly and almost throwing off my senses with that sweet, addictive scent of his.
Then, he whispers, "I can, and I will."
I dare to speak, to raise my voice to rain down curses on him for ever making me think I could trust his words, but the second those dark, seductive eyes dropped to my lips, pouted and armed, reasoning falls to dust as he leans down, crashing his lips on mine, and stealing my breath along with it.
The world comes to a near halt, every tick of the clock stretching into an eternity. All I can hear is the drumming of my own heart, all I can feel is this surge of electric heat that radiates from the point of our contact to every fiber of my being.
Each nerve is a live wire, pulsing, waiting.
I'm paralyzed by the soft press of his lips, as he draws me in like he's savoring the very essence of my being-as if my taste is the lifeline he's been searching for.
Artemis deepens the kiss, almost wrapping his arm around me in a possessive grip that ignites a feverish urgency within me-a pull so compelling it makes me want to eliminate any distance, any hesitation, until his touch is the only sensation my skin knows.
But just as quickly as this spell between us is cast, it shatters.
He breaks away abruptly, his eyes not just gold now but a shade darker than anything I've known.
Physically, my body aches to close the distance between us again, to feel him on my lips, and this time, maybe, I'd be able to function properly without losing my mind.
However, instead of that, my heart skips five beats at once, my nerves sizzle, and my skin feels like it's on fire.
I stand there, my fingers involuntarily tracing the lips he had just claimed, my mind whirling around a series of words that still can't convey what just transpired.
For the first time in my life, I'm actually speechless.
"I'm sorry," His eyes are wide as he apologizes, equally taken aback - as if those two words could mend all the wrongs he's committed against me-as if that kiss could somehow atone for the trust he broke minutes ago.
Instead, it leaves me more confused and puzzled, not to mention taken aback.
I stumble backward, eyes wide.
Right now, in the thick of this madness, in the chaos of my emotions, he chooses to light another fire?
How naive does he think I am? That a single kiss could rewrite our story, maybe draw me deeper into his inferno like it does for every girl he lures?
A bitter laugh escapes me.
I find myself wiping my lips, despite my heart pounding in my chest, as if that could erase the lingering feel of him. I know it won't; Artemis is imprinted right there forever. I could never get rid of it.
And although I want to question why he did that, deep down, I already know the answer-I'm just another game to him, a high-stakes gamble he's willing to go all-in for.
Just like Kamila had said.
"Goodbye, Artemis," I say, turning and walking away.