Chapter 10

                                    

                                          
~Maya~
As soon as I step out of the car, Ilya's gaze sears through me. His eyes, like twin flames, rake over my body, igniting a fire so potent that it liquefies my insides.
He glances down at my heels, and his jaw clenches with a force that threatens to shatter bone. While the other girls continue their futile attempts to capture his attention, their painted nails grazing his tattooed arm. But he remains indifferent to their advances, fixated solely on me. Should I feel mad or smug? It's hard to decide.
You'll have to care about him to feel anything, my inner voice chides, echoing our recent pep talk. And yet, here I am, torn between conflicting emotions.
For some reason I can't understand why is he fighting us? Can't he feel the connection between us, even if it's as a weak as a thread tying us to each other? Can't he feel the buzzing of a live wire crackling beneath our skin every time our eyes clash with each other? Can't he even feel the thundering of our heart beneath our rib cages threatening to break free and spill at our feet? Or is it just me?
Something twists in my stomach, clenching it so hard that I fear I might puke out the nonexistent breakfast that I had this morning. My stare turns into a glare until I feel like I am shooting fire. You know what, fuck him.
I square my shoulders, chin held high, and stride past him—the man who had my respect until this morning where shattered that illusion. He pulled out that 'just physical' card, skipping breakfast and leaving me to stew in my own frustration. Childish? Perhaps. But they don't understand the tangled web of our interactions, the moment of vulnerability that binds us.
Embarrassment clenches my chest as I force myself to acknowledge yesterday's rendezvous as mere physical release. It shouldn't be difficult, but it is. Damn him.
As I round the corner, Ilya's anger-filled eyes lock onto mine. Fear and excitement intertwine, crawling down my spine. What have I done? Is this mere bodyguard about to teach me a lesson? Or is there more to his rage? Either way, I'm trapped—between guilt and longing, heartbreak and desire. And in this tangled dance, I wonder if Ilya's ruthless allure still holds sway over my conflicted heart.

THE DAY UNFOLDS, a tapestry of mundane lectures and the promise of acing my physics practical. I'm confident; the equations align in my favor.
But then, a collision—a jolt of pain. Tears sting my eyes as someone collides to my right side causing me to shift my weight on my swollen left foot. "Ow!" I watch past my haziness, the two girls from this morning materialize, their venomous gazes slicing through me. My anger flares anew.
"Watch your step, bitch," the fake blondie hisses, her voice like a threatened snake.
I chuckle. Scare tactics? Please. Maya Sokolov doesn't scare easily. "Are you a freshman? Or did you just get here?" I taunt, boredom lacing my words.
The cotton candy-haired girl next to fake blondie snarls, "It's none of your business, idiot." They inch closer, trying to intimidate me. But they're no circus clowns; they're mere shadows. 
I step toward them, halting their advance. Their eyes widen, mouths snapping shut. Just how I like it. 
"Listen up," I declare, "quit the badass act. We all know you're terrified of the cockroach behind you." I don't even complete the sentence when their screams pierce the air and my ears as they cower behind me. I wince, my injured ankle protesting. Heels were a poor choice today. 
As the chaos subsides, as soon as their screams die down I take a look at them through the corner of my eyes, the blondie passes me a side eye of her own. My gaze strays toward cotton candy and I see her skin crimson flushed. My earlier bemusement turns into mild amusement. I cock a brow at them and blondie clears her throat, "Well you got me there," she chuckles awkwardly and a genuine chuckle escapes me. It isn't that bad, I guess?