~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?
Both of them turn around, brisk walking down the hall. "Have a good day," I shout behind them. They retreat, leaving me victorious. Well, that was easy.
When, I turn around I see Ilya leaning against the wall with his arms crossed at his fronts, those inscrutable eyes, the heat radiating from him. Seems like those girls left not because of me, but because of our very own bodyguard. Anger flares at the thought of him interfering in my fight and indicating as if God forbid, I need his help to chase away trouble.
"What did they say?" Ilya leans against the wall, arms crossed. It shouldn't be hot, but butterflies swarm within me.
I mimic his stance, brow raised. "And it concerns you, how?"
He steps closer, stopping just short of invading my space. "You never glanced at them twice. Why now?"
His question catches me off guard. What did he mean by that? But I'm done here. "I ignore and attack whoever I wish too. Now I suggest you move along unless you want to know the reason why they call me a diva bitch."
Instead of doing as he was suggested, Ilya takes an intimidating step closer till he is towering over me. Without warning his shoulders broaden, his height gains a few more inches over me and his artic blue eyes now take the color of flaming blue. Ilya's face is scary at best and I see a vein popping at his forehead, well. "Why are you wearing heels when you're hurt? Why are you acting like a bitch toward me? What the hell is wrong with you?"
His concern for my feet come as a surprise but then his second questions ignite fury. So, I throw his words back at him. "What's wrong with YOU? Why are you being so desperate for my attention?"
I expected him to shout back at me but instead he staggers back, his eyes wounded, I can see the flame dying out. My heart aches, guilt gnawing at me. But, instead of apologizing, I take a side step and walk away from him. Take that, fumbo. Yet, as I glance back, he stands there—head bowed, hurt etched into his very being.
"AS IF I CARE IF YOU LIVE OR NOT." Killian taunts, as he moves around the kitchen fetching himself a cup of... coffee, I guess. I try to not take his words seriously; I know it's just him acting like a usual jerk towards me. And it's true that both of us don't get along like he and Mia does. Yet, somewhere I can't help but question if he really means that.
I take a sip of my water leaning back against the sofa head, "You're saying as if I care, if you weren't Aunt Reina's son, I would've personally gotten someone to permanently remove your distasteful presence from my immediate surrounding."
I see something flare in his ugly eyes; too bad they are another shade of blue but the ugliest ones. A shade that makes me want to puke whenever I see it. I came to apologize him for raising my voice at him yesterday, and an 'it's okay' would've finished the conversation but the fucker decided to pick up another fight and this time I had enough of his bullshit to even filter out my words. Unlike many divas, I sometime prefer to filter out my words without wanting to hurt someone so deep, but Killian refuses to stop getting on my nerves.
So, if I seriously said something bad, it's not me but entirely and surely on him. Killian opens his mouth but I am quick to shut him up, "Stop it already, stop talking to me for God's sake. Every time you open that stupid mouth of yours, I get another headache and I've already had one for today." I no less than snap at him, but at least he shuts his mouth even if he is clenching his jaw and glaring ahead. One thing I know is, that it's not good enough when Kill is provoked and I know my behavior towards him today is sooner than later going to come back and bite me in the ass. But, I am too tired to even care about the consequences right now.
We are interrupted by a few sounds from outside, specifically Ilya's. "Yes, I did check, there will be no issues."
Jeremy nods at what Ilya said, quite for a few second before he looks at Ilya again and his mouth I guess quirks up, "Thank you for today's morning, Ilya..." What's happening here? Why is he thanking Ilya? And did he mention something about morning? Perhaps, Ilya went out for Jeremy's work? Oh, God please don't let it be the latter.
Ilya shakes his head, his eyes meet mine for a fraction of a second and I see the hurt and anger I put there today afternoon where I so not politely asked him to fuck off.
"I see..." A voice comes from my side and I watch Killian looking at me with a sadistic gleam of his eyes. I knew Killian would soon come up with a payback plan, I just didn't know it would be this soon. Kill me now.
I school my expression before throwing a disgusting glance his way, "Now what? For real can't you let me be in peace for once? Get a life man." I stand up, straightening my dress before marching upstairs. I stop mid-way and turn around when a light bulb goes off in my mind. "Jeremy?" I shout and watch him turn his bemused eyes towards me. The disrespect he should be grateful I even give him my attention and how utterly he dismisses it.
"Mwuah," I send him a flying kiss, and Jeremy's expression turns even more annoying. He turns his gaze away and instead looks into his phone where he types a few things and then lets out a small smile.
Oh?
However, Ilya glares at me, his jaw clenches and the hand that's clutching the door handle turns white. Something flutters in my stomach, well we will do something about his anger later?
My gaze shifts to Killian whose sadistic eyes have turn even more sadistic but there is a hint of amusement too. Oh well, he is enjoying this.
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It might not be as angsty as you guys preferred, but I am saving the real angst for later in the book.
But let me tell you this, we've just started.