Chapter 5

　　~ANYA'S POV~

　　The ride back to our apartment was suffocating, like sitting in a vacuum with no air. Athena, for once, had nothing to say: no sarcastic remarks, no dramatic commentary.

　　Just silence.

　　Two hours slipped by after we got home. We ate our tacos in robotic bites, neither of us tasting the food, then disappeared into our separate rooms without a word.

　　Now it was quarter past eight. My body was drained, but sleep refused to come. My mind buzzed like a hive that wouldn't quiet.

　　I'd tried putting on a movie, hoping the noise would drown out the storm in my chest, but every scene blurred until the screen may as well have been blank.

　　With a frustrated huff, I threw off the covers and considered stomping into Athena's room. She always let me crawl into her bed when the world felt too heavy.

　　I was halfway off the mattress when a soft knock rattled the door.

　　My pulse stuttered. Athena never knocked. She only barged in like she owned the place—unless she needed me. Unless she was scared.

　　"Come in," I called, my voice cracking slightly.

　　The door eased open. Athena slipped inside, swallowed by an oversized white T-shirt that hung off one shoulder.

　　When she climbed onto the bed, the fabric clung in some places and draped loose in others, teasing glimpses of smooth skin and the faintest flash of black lace.

　　My throat dried. I was straight. Solidly, definitely straight. But Athena blurred the lines I thought were enduring.

　　She caught my lingering stare and smirked, wicked and knowing.

　　"Gay," she teased, voice dripping with smug amusement.

　　"You wish," I shot back, rolling my eyes. The smile tugging at my lips betrayed me. We settled into silence….the good kind, warm and serious, like a blanket.

　　Then, in a whisper so fragile I almost missed it, she said, "I'm scared."

　　My chest squeezed. "Me too."

　　Her body shifted closer. She stretched out, lying beside me. Instinctively, I rested my head on her shoulder, finding safety in her warmth.

　　"I keep thinking about those guys," she murmured, her breath brushing my hair. "They weren't just random creeps. If we hadn't gotten away, they would've taken us. Forced us."

　　My throat tightened. I had no answers.

　　Her voice trembled. "What if it wasn't a mistake? What if someone found out about that day?"

　　I stiffened. That day. The one we promised never to mention again.

　　"That was an accident," I said firmly. "We swore we'd forget it. It's been months. Why would anyone come after us now?"

　　Silence. Too long. Too still.

　　Then, barely audible, she whispered, "Maybe because he's dead. Maybe we killed him."

　　I shot up, heart hammering. "No. He wasn't dead. We checked. He was breathing when we left. You remember, right?"

　　Athena nodded slowly—then smirked. "We're talking about the dog, right?"

　　I blinked. "Wait—what?"

　　She broke into wild laughter, and despite my best efforts, I laughed too, the tension breaking for a moment.

　　The flashback clawed at me anyway. Four months ago, drunk and high, we'd hit a stray dog with her car. Its leg was twisted, its face bloodied.

　　Athena had sobbed and thrown up while I pressed trembling fingers to its chest. Alive. Barely. We'd laid it outside someone's gate and sped away, guilty and shaken.

　　"Done with your main-character flashback?" Athena teased, eyes dancing.

　　I flushed. "Shut up, I wasn't….."

　　"Please. You zoned so hard I thought you flatlined." She giggled.

　　Her laughter faded. And that's when I realized how close we were. Her face hovered inches from mine. I could feel her breath on my lips. One small movement and—No.

　　Absolutely not. I was straight.

　　I liked men. Dick. Big, curved—But my gaze betrayed me, dragging over her freckles, her lashes, her lips.

　　Her eyes caught mine, locked, and in a slow, dangerous tilt, she closed the space.

　　Her lips brushed mine. Soft. Tentative. Then firmer.

　　My pulse exploded.

　　Fuck being straight.

　　The kiss deepened, tongues tangling. My moan slipped free as she nibbled my lip, trailed fire down my throat, biting, sucking, marking. My shirt vanished, shorts following, cool air skimming bare skin.

　　Her strawberry-flavored mouth devoured me until I melted, clinging to her hair.

　　"God, Athena…" She smirked against my lips before sliding down my body. Her tongue traced fire over my stomach, lower, lower until hot breath fanned my pussy.

　　"Please," I begged before I could stop myself. Her first lick made me arch off the bed with a strangled cry.

　　I clutched at her hair as she devoured me like she was starving, her tongue stroking and circling, plunging deeper.

　　My thighs shook around her head as pleasure surged. She slid two fingers inside me, curling them just right.

　　"Oh, fuck!" I gasped, riding her face, sweat dripping down my back. Her pace quickened, mouth and fingers working in devastating duo.

　　My vision blurred, my body tightened, and then I shattered, coming so hard I screamed her name. She licked me clean, relentless until I whimpered and begged her to stop.

　　When she finally climbed back up, she kissed me deep, letting me taste myself on her lips. We lay tangled, naked, breathing hard. My heart wouldn't slow.

　　"This is insane," I whispered.

　　"Yeah." Her nervous laugh betrayed her bravado. She tugged her shirt back on, avoiding my eyes.

　　Silence thickened.

　　"Do you regret it?" she asked finally, voice small, raw.

　　"No. God, no." My chest tightened. "I just… I was so sure I was straight like, an hour ago." I gave a shaky laugh.

　　Her cheeks colored. "I've always had a crush on you, Yaya. Since forever."

　　My breath caught. "You're… gay?"

　　"I'm bi. But the only girl I've ever wanted is you."

　　I opened my mouth to answer—Glass shattered, we froze. The sound came from the hall. The bathroom. Then—footsteps. Heavy. Multiple.

　　My blood iced.

　　"Closet," I mouthed.

　　We scrambled, cramming into the tiny dark space, holding our breath as boots thundered into my room. The door slammed open. Shadows moved.

　　My phone, glowing uselessly on the bed, was just out of reach.

　　Athena's hand gripped mine, trembling.

　　The closet door wrenched open. A masked man loomed, dragging us out like rag dolls. Ten of them. All armed. All cold-eyed. Soldiers, not robbers.

　　And then—He walked in.

　　The man in white.

　　The room shifted, every soldier snapping to attention as he entered. White coat, white turtleneck, white trousers. Only his shoes—polished black leather—broke the angelic illusion.

　　He smelled of earth and smoke, rich and grounding.

　　He stopped before me, crouching. His hand brushed my cheek almost tenderly. I flinched when that same hand clenched, bruising, threatening to crack my jaw.

　　"Did you enjoy yourself with your little friend?" His voice was velvet wrapped in venom.

　　"Athena….." Her scream cut me off. One of them had his boot grinding into her knee.

　　"Stop!" I lunged, shoving him back. My fists flew, but the man in white caught my swing midair. His backhand cracked against my skull, sending me sprawling.

　　Stars burst. Blood flooded my mouth. I blinked through darkness. A gunshot split the room.

　　One soldier dropped, skull blown open. The man in white held the smoking gun, smiling like a wolf. He crouched again, eyes burning ice-blue as he tilted my face up.

　　"You're mine now, Anya." His words slithered under my skin like a curse. "From tonight onward, your life no longer belongs to you. It belongs to me."

　　He pressed his lips to mine—rough, blood-slick, possessive. A kiss that claimed, not cared.

　　My last sight before blackness swallowed me was Athena, thrashing, screaming, being dragged away—And his voice, velvet and lethal, whispering against my ear:

　　"Let's go home, Bambi."