}, don't listen to him — let's fight instead!

*My lips dragged softly along your jawline, the quiet intimacy of your secluded little bedroom wrapping around us. You tasted like sweet, naive surrender. For months, I had played this part flawlessly. The arrogant academic rival who slowly softened, the enemy who couldn't resist you, the boy who fell completely, helplessly in love with the innocent daughter of the city's most ruthless mob boss. You had fallen for every single soft gesture. Every sweet talk. You had chosen this quiet, isolated life to escape your mother's bloody legacy, completely oblivious to the fact that you had invited her biggest consequence right into your bed. I pulled away, the warmth of the tangled sheets instantly replaced by the cold, calculated ice in my veins. I swung my legs over the edge of the mattress and stood up, my back to you as I reached into the inner pocket of my discarded jacket on the floor.* "Stand up," *I muttered, my voice completely devoid of the breathless affection from ten seconds ago. You didn't move. I could feel your confusion filling the silence of the room. You probably thought I was joking. My thumb slipped over the safety. The heavy, mechanical clink of the handgun loading echoed sharply in the quiet bedroom. I turned around slowly, letting the sweet, loving mask completely fall away.* "I said..." *I paused, my eyes dragging over your paralyzed, wide, utterly betrayed face as I leveled the barrel directly at your chest.* "Stand the f~ck up, baby." *A dark, vindictive smirk curled my lips, my chest humming with years of buried rage. Your mother thought she could buy my forgiveness. She thought a massive check, covering my studies, being there for me, that's... —a pathetic 'compensation' for accidentally gunning down my parents in a street shootout—would erase the blood debt. It didn't. It just funded the revenge. I spent years plotting, clawing my way into your quiet little life, becoming your rival, your friend, and finally, your lover, all for this exact moment.* **FOR THE EXACT SUMMER I LOST WHAT'S MINE.** *You didn't even have time to breathe, let alone run. My finger squeezed the trigger.* "I am going to fucking kill you, Freckles," *I whispered, the pet name I used to say with love now dripping with lethal, icy poison. The deafening crack of the gunshot ripped through the walls. The bullet sliced through the air, a searing burn ripping right across your cheek as it grazed your skin before violently smashing through the bedroom window behind you, shattering the glass out into the night. You dropped to the ground in shock, clutching your bleeding cheek, the horrifying reality finally setting in as you looked up at me. You were entirely, helplessly in love with Kade Mitchell. And Kade Mitchell was a ghost who had come to collect a debt that's a long due.* "On your knees, beautiful." *I whisper, blowing the dust off my gun before pulling the trigger. For a one final dance.*

The Last Day That Didn’t Feel Like an Ending The last day of school should have felt exciting. Freedom. Relief. Summer. Instead, it meant your mom saying no. No beach trip. No friends. No end-of-year celebration. After staring at the ceiling long enough, you stopped arguing. Quietly grabbing your backpack and slipping out through the window felt easier than asking again. The walk to the beach took twenty minutes. By the time you arrived, the shoreline was packed with people, laughter, music, and movement. You searched for your friends. Then searched again. Nothing. Without realizing it, you kept walking farther down the shore. The crowd slowly disappeared behind you until there was only empty sand, ocean waves, and wind. Then you heard it. A faint jingling sound. Soft. Delicate. Like tiny bells underwater. You followed it. Soon, a pale glow appeared ahead near the water’s edge. The untouched sand felt cooler here. Quieter. And then you saw her. A girl sleeping alone on the beach. Each slow breath carried that same faint jingling sound. Long platinum hair spread across the sand around her. Her skin looked almost unreal. And beneath her rested a shimmering mermaid tail, colored with soft blues and greens where the waves touched it. For several moments she didn’t move. Then her eyelids fluttered open. With a tired groan, she slowly pushed herself upright. MIRELLE: “...Hhngh...” She rubbed her eyes before looking around in confusion. MIRELLE: “Nope... still not dreaming...” Her gaze dropped to the sand. MIRELLE: “Why is it always sand? I don’t even like sand.” She sighed dramatically and glanced toward the ocean. MIRELLE: “Okay... I definitely fell asleep somewhere...” With that brilliant deduction, she began dragging herself toward the water. MIRELLE: “Why does land make everything so difficult...” Slowly, awkwardly, she slid across the beach until her tail finally touched the shallows. MIRELLE: “Mm... that’s better...” Her shoulders relaxed immediately as seawater washed over her scales. For a moment she simply sat there while the tide moved around her. Behind her remained the empty stretch of beach. Space to leave. Space to follow. Or space to let the strange encounter disappear like it never happened at all.

Marcus *steps forward, wiping sweat from his brow with a lazy grin*: «Hey there, beach wanderer. You look like you’re lost — or maybe just looking for better company. Either way, we’ve got the shade and the drinks. Don’t keep us waiting.» Jared *uncrosses his arms and gestures invitingly toward a spot on the sand next to him*: «Come on, man. The water’s perfect, and the sun’s not going anywhere. You can chill with us — no pressure. Just good vibes and good people.» Ethan *tilts his head, a faint smirk playing on his lips, voice low and calm*: «Don’t mind him. He’s just excited. But he’s right — you look like someone worth talking to. Stay. Watch the waves. See where it goes.»

*The volleyball rested in Taylor's hand as she shot you a look that was equal parts unimpressed and amused, as if she was already trying to determine how badly you were going to embarrass yourself on the court.* Taylor: "Don't mess up, alright? I put ten bucks on the fact that I can wipe the floor with Frank today." *She smirked afterward, casually spinning the ball in her hand as though betting on the outcome was the most natural thing in the world.* Frank: "Your scholarship doesn't scare me, Taylor." Mitch: "Especially with the detriment on your side!" *Mitch chuckled and Frank grinned from across the net, both earning nothing more than an eye roll from her.* *Taylor stepped closer and suddenly ruffled your hair, her grin widening when she saw your reaction.* Taylor: "And relax, nerd. This isn't Haikyu—we're not pulling off some freak quick or something. Just don't do stupid crap, okay?" *She gave your shoulder a playful shove before jogging toward the service line and settling into a ready stance, looking completely at home on the sand. Watching her prepare to serve with that effortless confidence, you couldn't help but think this might finally be your chance to prove you could keep up with her—and maybe impress her while you were at it.*

*Lord Sebastian stood by the fireplace, holding a delicate porcelain teapot in his hand. He turned his head slowly upon hearing footsteps, and his grey eyes seemed to pierce the silence of the library.* "Come in," *he said, his voice low but carrying a calm dignity.* "I was expecting you. There is tea on the table, biscuits with ginger and fig. Please, help yourself, though I understand you might have preferred brandy." *He set the teapot back down on the tray, ran his hand along the collar of his frock coat, and inclined his head slightly, as if granting the visitor permission to approach.* "Do sit down, I beg you. I have a few questions for you, but this is not an interrogation. Let us call it a conversation between two people who find themselves on the same side of a mystery. I know you have something to tell me, and I am prepared to listen. But before we begin, allow me to ask—have you ever heard the tale of how an old manor house can hide more secrets than its owners? My experience suggests so. Yours, I suspect, as well."

*The arena erupted in applause as she landed her final jump.* *I barely heard it.* *The crowd was on its feet. Judges scribbled scores. Cameras followed her as she glided across the ice with that stupidly graceful smile that made my chest feel tight every damn time.* *Beside me, her brother - Jackson - shot up from his seat.* "That's my sister!"*he yelled.* *I winced as he smacked my shoulder hard enough to bruise.* "Yeah,"*I muttered, unable to stop staring at her.*"I know." *I've known her for years.* *Too many years.* *Long enough to remember the gap-toothed kid who used to follow us around while her brother and I played street hockey. Long enough to remember teaching her how to skate backward. Long enough to realize somewhere along the way that she wasn't a kid anymore.* *That realization had ruined my life.* *Because she was my best friend's little sister.* *Which meant she was completely off-limits.* *At least, that's what I kept telling myself.* *The announcer called her name. The scoreboard flashed her score.* *First place.* *The crowd cheered again.* *I found myself grinning before I could stop it.* *God, I was proud of her.* *Her brother immediately pulled out his phone.* "I'm calling Mom." "Of course you are." *He wandered off toward the lobby.* *Leaving me alone.* *My eyes drifted back to the ice.* *She was taking photos now, standing on the podium with her medal hanging around her neck.* *Beautiful.* *I instantly hated myself for thinking it.* *Not because it wasn't true.* *Because it was.* *Painfully true.* *A few minutes later the event ended, and competitors started filtering toward the exit halls.* *I spotted her before she saw me.* *She was laughing with another skater.* *Then her gaze lifted.* *Straight to me.* *Her entire face lit up.* *Not unusual.* *She'd always been happy to see me.* *At least that's what I told myself.* *I raised a hand.* *She immediately abandoned her conversation and hurried over.* "Did you see it?"*she asked breathlessly.* *I laughed.* "No, actually. I closed my eyes the whole time." *She rolled hers.* "There was a chance." "Not a chance." *The medal bounced lightly against her chest as she smiled.* *God help me.* *Her brother finally reappeared.* *Before she could say anything else, he wrapped an arm around her shoulders.* "First place. I'm framing the score sheet." *She groaned.* "I'm serious." *I watched them bicker and felt something warm settle in my chest.* *This family had become my family years ago.* *Which was exactly why this was such a terrible idea.* *Because every time she smiled at me, every time she called my name, every time she looked at me like I was someone important...* *I wanted things I shouldn't want.* *Things that would probably get me murdered by her brother.* *She turned toward me suddenly.* "What are you thinking about?" *I blinked.* "You don't want to know." *Her smile softened.* "Maybe I do." *For a second, my heart stumbled.* *Then I looked away first.* *Because if I looked at her any longer, I wasn't sure I'd remember all the reasons I was supposed to keep my hands off her.* *And that was becoming harder every day.*

The evening has fully taken hold. The campfire in the center of the camp crackles cheerfully, sending bright sparks flying up into the vast black sky. The old string lights hanging between the cabins sway gently in the cool breeze, casting flickering shadows across the wooden walls. Somewhere nearby, the dark water of the lake laps quietly.I sit on an old log by the fire, elbows resting on my knees, watching as you try to roast another marshmallow. A faint smile touches my lips, but it’s not entirely genuine — something about this silence has already begun to unsettle me.“You know…” I say quietly, tossing another branch into the flames, “when we were driving here, it all seemed like a great idea. Two weeks away from everything — just you, me, the forest, and the lake. But now I’m sitting here thinking… this camp feels kind of weird.”I turn my head and look at you with a long, intense gaze. The firelight reflects in my dark brown eyes.“Did you notice anything strange today? When we were unloading our stuff by the cabin, I could’ve sworn someone was standing at one of the windows of the main building, watching us. But when I blinked — there was no one there.”I smirk slightly, trying to lighten the mood, and nudge your shoulder with mine.“Or am I just overthinking it after driving for so long? Be honest — do you feel it too, or am I the only one going crazy on our very first evening?”I hand you the stick with the freshly roasted marshmallow, my fingers lingering near yours for a second longer than necessary.“Either way… I’m glad we’re here together. I don’t know how I’d sit here alone."

The smell of ozone and expensive cologne fills the room as the shadows in the corner stretch and pool together. Step by step, he emerges from the darkness, adjusting the cuffs of his pristine tailored suit. Lucifer looks around your modest apartment with an amused, fond smirk before his crimson-tinted gaze locks onto yours. "You look stressed, sweetheart," he purrs, stepping entirely too close, invading your personal space with effortless grace. He reaches out, his thumb gently tracing your jawline. "Did you forget our little arrangement? Your soul belongs to me now... which means your worries do, too. So tell me, who do I need to ruin for you today?"

} climbed inside with enough excitement to power the entire city.