SONG RECOMMENDATION: Anatomy Slowed- By TEENWXVE
On Monday, Simon, Blake, and Rocco sat outside the college on their bikes, an aura of casual rebellion hanging over them. They had arrived early, still half an hour before classes would start, but they didn't mind. This was their domain—where they ruled the outskirts of the campus like kings. The low rumble of passing cars and the distant chatter of early students filled the air, but the trio remained in their own world, marked by the occasional flick of a cigarette.
Simon leaned back against his bike, the leather of his jacket creaking as he took a slow drag from his cigarette. His sharp eyes scanned the campus with a practiced indifference, but his mind was elsewhere—still tangled in the events of the previous night with Stella.
Blake, sitting on his bike to Simon's right, took a long drag of his cigarette, exhaling smoke into the crisp morning air. He tapped the ash from the end of his cigarette with a flick of his thumb, glancing at Simon.
"Feels like forever since we had a quiet morning like this," Blake muttered, his voice rough and low. "No drama, no bullshit." He glanced over at Rocco, who sat on the other side, taking a drag of his own.
"Yeah," Rocco grunted, exhaling smoke as he leaned back on his bike, his arms crossed over his chest. "Feels good. The calm before the storm, probably. Things have been way too quiet."
Blake's smirk stretched wider as he shifted his gaze back to Simon, clearly unable to contain whatever he'd been holding back. "By the way, I heard something interesting yesterday."
Simon raised an eyebrow, the smoke from his cigarette curling lazily through the air. "Yeah? And what's that?"
"A nice blood bag, I guess," Rocco chimed in, his tone teasing as he leaned forward slightly, clearly intrigued.
Blake's eyes gleamed with mischief as he added, "Did you compel her after drinking? Or…" he paused for dramatic effect, "killed her?"
Rocco grinned, nodding along with the suggestion. "Yeah, Simon, you don't usually mess around unless there's something fun in it for you."
Simon let out a low chuckle, flicking his cigarette to the ground and crushing it beneath his boot. "Who said anything about drinking?" he drawled, a wicked gleam in his eye. "Just a little pet I found interesting."
Blake's interest piqued immediately, his curiosity now fully engaged. "A pet, huh?" he asked, leaning closer. "Now you've gotta tell us about her. Who is she?"
Simon's smirk faded slightly, his eyes darkening as he glanced away. "Not now," he replied, his tone turning cold, the smoldering cigarette in his hand forgotten. He wasn't about to share details about Stella—not with anyone, not even with Blake and Rocco. When it came to her, he felt something different, something he couldn't explain, and he wasn't about to let his friends turn it into one of their games.
Blake's smirk faltered, sensing the shift in Simon's mood. "Alright, alright," he said, raising his hands in mock surrender. "No need to get all secretive on us. But you know we're gonna ask again."
Simon's jaw tightened, his eyes narrowing slightly. "You can ask all you want," he said, his voice low, "but I don't owe you anything."
Rocco chuckled, blowing out a cloud of smoke as he leaned back on his bike again. "Man, Simon's got himself all tangled up in this one. Must be something serious if he's not sharing."
Simon shot him a sharp look, his voice tinged with a warning. "Drop it."
Blake and Rocco exchanged a glance, but neither of them pushed further. They could sense when Simon wasn't in the mood, and they knew better than to press him when he was being this guarded.
Simon leaned back against his bike, his mind once again drifting to Stella. There was something about her—something that pulled at him in ways he wasn't used to. She wasn't just another girl, not a fleeting distraction like the others. She was different, mysterious, and it unnerved him. He didn't trust anyone with that knowledge, not even his closest friends. Simon was not someone who tolerated weakness—not in himself, and definitely not when it came to women.
He took another slow drag from his cigarette, the familiar burn grounding him, providing a brief respite from the swirl of confusing thoughts. But deep down, he knew this was only the beginning. This thing with Stella was going to unravel more than he was prepared to face. A part of him wanted to push her away, but another, darker part craved the thrill of being near her, the way she made him feel alive.
Blake, noticing Simon's silence, leaned over with a grin. "Man, you're deep in thought today. That 'pet' really got to you, huh?"
Simon shot him a warning look but said nothing. He wasn't about to explain the battle raging inside him, especially not to Blake or Rocco. They wouldn't understand. They thrived on simplicity, on meaningless conquests and casual thrills, but this thing with Stella? It was far from simple.
Rocco smirked, flicking his cigarette onto the ground. "Yeah, he's definitely hooked. Simon's never been this quiet about a girl."
"Shut up," Simon muttered, crushing his cigarette under his boot with more force than necessary. He straightened up, his eyes flicking toward the campus as students began to trickle in. The usual noise of chatter and footsteps filled the air, signaling the start of a new day.
As more students arrived, the casual, rebellious bubble the three of them had created began to burst. With a shared glance, they extinguished their cigarettes, knowing their time for loitering was over. The quiet campus was coming to life, and they had an image to maintain—cool, detached, untouchable.
Blake ran a hand through his messy hair, standing up. "Time to face another thrilling day of higher education," he said sarcastically, stretching his arms over his head.
Rocco chuckled. "Yeah, because we're all here for education, right?"
As Simon, Blake, and Rocco made their way to the campus, the familiar roar of a sleek black Porsche cut through the morning buzz.
As the sleek black Porsche glided into the parking lot. Stella stepped out gracefully, her golden hair falling in waves down her back, catching the soft morning sunlight. She straightened her posture, her usual calm demeanor masking the unease simmering beneath her surface. Her green eyes scanned the bustling campus, where students milled about, unaware of the turmoil hidden within her.
Mallory emerged from the driver's seat a moment later, her movements as precise and controlled as ever.The two of them had always been a study in contrasts—Stella, with her warmth and easy smile, and Mallory, with her cold, almost detached demeanor. But Stella had grown used to the silent strength that Mallory exuded, a constant reminder of the protective role she played.
As they walked across the campus, Stella finally broke the silence, her voice quiet but laced with unease. "Do you think I am being too paranoid?" Her eyes flicked toward Mallory, searching for reassurance. "I mean, being careful is one thing, but I can't shake this feeling... like someone's been watching me."
Mallory didn't respond right away. Her expression remained unreadable, but Stella caught the subtle shift in her posture—the way her steps slowed just slightly, the sharp flick of her gaze as she scanned their surroundings. She didn't need words to let Stella know she was paying attention.
Stella exhaled, trying to shake off the nervous energy buzzing in her chest. "Maybe I'm just being paranoid," she muttered, more to herself than anyone else.
They continued walking, the low chatter of students growing louder as they approached the main campus building. Stella, however, barely noticed the world around her. Her thoughts were tangled in memories of Simon—the way his gaze lingered on her, the questions in his eyes. She could feel the weight of his attention, and it unnerved her in ways she couldn't quite explain.
"Maybe I should just stay away from him," Stella muttered, more to herself than to Mallory. "It's not like I can afford to get close to anyone."
Mallory's cold eyes flicked toward Stella, her lips pressing into a thin line. Her silence, as always, said more than words ever could. Trusting anyone—especially someone like Simon—was a risk they couldn't afford.
"Do you think I am right?" Stella asked, a small frown tugging at her lips as they neared the entrance. She glanced at Mallory, seeking some kind of reassurance, but found none in her friend's icy expression.
Mallory finally spoke, her voice low and measured. "We can't afford to take chances, Stella. Not with someone we don't know. It's better you stay away from him"
Stella nodded, her unease deepening. Mallory was right. There was too much at stake, too many secrets that could unravel their lives if anyone found out who—or what—they really were. And yet, despite all the warnings and the nagging voice in the back of her mind, Stella couldn't shake the feeling that it was already too late. Simon had already gotten too close.
As they reached the entrance of the main building, Stella let out a quiet sigh. "I just wish I didn't have to pretend all the time," she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. "Sometimes it feels like I'm losing myself in this… in all the pretending."
Mallory's face softened, just for a brief moment. "Pretending is what keeps us alive," she replied simply, her cold expression returning almost immediately.
Stella offered a small, strained smile as they stepped inside, her mind still clouded with doubt. She knew Mallory was right. They couldn't afford to slip, couldn't afford to let their guard down. But as much as she tried to convince herself to keep her distance from Simon, she couldn't deny the pull she felt toward him—the magnetic draw that both excited and terrified her.
And with each passing day, it was becoming harder and harder to keep the truth hidden.