I woke up exhausted, grumpy, and mad at the world. My bed had never felt more tempting, but life, unfortunately, demanded my presence elsewhere. Before heading to class, I made a necessary detour to the coffee shop—I needed caffeine if I had any hope of surviving the day.
The café was packed, a sea of tired students and rushed professionals, so I leaned back against the wall, deciding to wait until the chaos died down. That's when I felt it. A shift in the air. A presence that sent a ripple of irritation down my spine.
I didn't have to look to know who it was.
Sinister.
And because the universe clearly had a twisted sense of humour, he slid into the seat next to me like he belonged there.
"Good morning, Grey," he said, his voice soft, familiar—dangerously so.
I kept my eyes on my phone, pretending he didn't exist, but I could feel his stare burning into me.
"How are you today?" He tried again, sounding more like the sinister I once knew and less like the one who had shattered my trust.
I forced indifference into my voice. "Just sleepy, but otherwise fine."
A beat of silence. Then, he reached out, tucking a loose strand of hair behind my ear like it was the most natural thing in the world.
"About yesterday," he started, his voice laced with something I didn't want to decipher. "I know I was being a big jerk, and I'm sorry for that. You know that's not who I am—"
"Grace, caramel coffee, right?"
Liam's voice cut through Sinister's apology like a sharp knife.
He placed the cup in front of me with an easy smile, completely ignoring the storm brewing in Sinister's expression.
"Am I that predictable?" I teased, taking a sip.
Liam shrugged, leaning in just enough to make a point. "I just happen to pay close attention to things I'm interested in." His smirk was deliberate, his voice dripping with flirtation. Then, before I could react, he added, "Okay, I'll talk to you later, babydoll," and walked away, leaving behind the scent of his cologne and a growing warmth on my cheeks.
I didn't have to look at Sinister to know he was fuming. But I did anyway.
His jaw was tight. His hands curled into fists. His stormy eyes locked onto mine.
"What the hell was that?" he demanded, voice low, laced with something dangerous.
I tilted my head innocently. "What was what?"
His glare deepened.
I grinned. A slow, knowing grin that I knew would set him off.
Oh, this was going to be fun.
Let the games begin, Mr. Romanov.
The night had finally wrapped me in its quiet embrace. I lay sprawled across my bed, the soft glow of the TV screen casting flickering light across my walls as anime played in the background. College was over for the day, and for once, I was ready to lose myself in fictional worlds, away from the madness of my own reality.
But peace never seemed to last.
A sudden, furious pounding rattled my door, loud and demanding.
I groaned, squeezing my eyes shut. Who the hell bangs like that instead of ringing the damn doorbell?
Reluctantly, I pulled myself up, dragging my tired body to the door, my fingers hesitating over the handle. The moment I swung it open, Sinister stormed inside, his presence swallowing up the entire space with a dangerous, restless energy.
His stormy eyes locked onto mine, burning with something I couldn't quite place—anger, jealousy, desperation? Maybe all three.
"Do you like Liam?" The words shot out of him like a bullet, rough and unfiltered. "Is it true you're going with him to the party?" His voice was razor-sharp, accusing. "Have you forgotten that you are my girlfriend? That our relationship still exists?"
I let out a bitter laugh, crossing my arms over my chest. "Your actions seem to indicate otherwise," I countered, my voice laced with the sting of my own pain. "And what Liam and I do is none of your concern. Have you forgotten that we're on a break? You don't get to dictate my choices, Sin. Now, get out before I push you out myself."
His jaw tightened, the muscles flexing as he inhaled sharply. But when he spoke again, his voice had softened, almost pleading.
"Don't go to the party with him."
Something about the way he said it—like it physically hurt him—made my resolve waver for half a second. But I steeled myself.
"Oh, I'm going," I said firmly, tilting my chin up in defiance. "And nothing you say can stop me."
His entire demeanour shifted.
In an instant, he was closer, his body radiating heat, his breath brushing against my skin as he leaned in—so close I could feel the tension crackling between us like a live wire.
"Are you challenging me?" His voice was low, dark, almost dangerous. "Because I would love to prove you wrong, my little trouble." His lips grazed my ear as he murmured, "Or should I say—fuck you until I prove you wrong?"
A shiver shot down my spine.
His fingers curled around my waist, pulling me against him, pressing me into the solid heat of his body.
"I swear, I'll fuck you so hard that all you can think about is me," he whispered, his words both a promise and a threat. "All you can feel is me. Until you forget about everything else." He traced his fingers along my jawline, tilting my face up to meet his. "And you'll enjoy every second of it. So you know it's not an empty threat."
Before I could process his words—before I could even think—his lips crashed onto mine.
It wasn't gentle. It wasn't soft.
It was raw, desperate, and punishing.
His lips devoured mine, stealing my breath; his kiss was filled with frustration, anger, and something deeper, something unspoken. His hands gripped my waist like he was afraid I would disappear, holding me so tightly it was as if he could fuse me into him.
I tried to resist. I tried to keep my lips closed, to deny him, to deny myself.
But the moment his tongue traced the seam of my lips, teasing and coaxing, my body betrayed me.
I melted into him.
I kissed him back with the same desperate hunger, my hands threading into his hair, pulling him closer, drinking him in like he was oxygen and I was drowning. His fingers slid beneath my shirt, fingertips grazing my bare skin, setting me on fire.
And for that moment, nothing else existed. Not the lies. Not the betrayal. Not the pain.
Just us.
Just him.
But reality crashed back like a cold slap when I felt the way his hands gripped me—possessive, as if I still belonged to him.
And I couldn't let myself believe that anymore.
"STOP!" I gasped, shoving him away with all the strength I could muster.
He stumbled back, his breathing ragged, his lips swollen from our kiss. His gaze was wild, filled with something dangerously close to longing.
"Just admit it," he said, his voice hoarse. "Admit you want me as much as I want you."
I swallowed hard, forcing myself to stay strong. "Yes," I whispered, my voice barely audible. "But it doesn't matter—"
His expression shifted, a flicker of vulnerability breaking through his usual arrogance. "All I ask is for time."
A fresh wave of pain crashed over me, my chest tightening as tears welled up in my eyes. "I can't put my life on hold just because you said so," I whispered brokenly. "It hurts, Sin. It hurts."
Tears slipped down my cheeks, and I hated myself for letting him see me like this. For letting him still have this much power over me.
"Please just leave," I begged, my voice barely holding together. "Please."
For the first time, Sinister had nothing to say.
He only stared at me, something unreadable in his eyes, before finally turning around and walking out.
I stood frozen, my breath uneven, watching his figure disappear beyond the door.
The second the door clicked shut, the weight of everything crashed over me.
I sank onto the couch, pressing my trembling fingers to my lips, as if trying to erase the taste of him. But it was useless.
I don't know how long I sat there before my phone vibrated against the table.
For a second, my heart leapt, foolishly thinking it was him.
But it wasn't.
Liam.
Hey, beautiful. Meet me for dinner at the restaurant.
I hesitated. My emotions were a mess. My heart was in shambles.
But for some reason, when I read Liam's text, a small smile tugged at my lips.
Maybe what I needed wasn't solitude. Maybe I needed company—someone who wasn't Sinister.
Maybe I just needed an escape.
Ok.
I sent the message before I could second-guess myself.
Maybe dinner with Liam was exactly what I needed.
Maybe... just maybe... I could start moving on.
Even if it was just for a little while