✨Against My Will✨

🎶Jealousy 🎶

The whole week, Xander and I barely spoke. Our conversations were brief and cold, as if a fragile truce held our fractured relationship together. A week later, the day of my big debut at the fashion show arrived. I hadn't told Xander about it, partly because I didn't want his negativity to cast a shadow over my excitement and partly because I feared he wouldn't care.

The venue was a whirlwind of activity, buzzing with anticipation. Models, designers, and spectators filled the room, creating a palpable energy. Backstage, the designers made last-minute adjustments, and the makeup artists worked their magic. My dress-a stunning pink tulle gown-was a showstopper. Its layers of delicate fabric flowed like a dream, and I felt transformed.

When it was my turn, I stepped onto the runway, the lights blinding but exhilarating. The soft, flowing layers of the dress made me feel like I was floating. As I walked, I heard gasps and applause from the audience. Each step felt surreal, as if I were in a beautiful dream. For the first time in a long while, I felt truly happy.

As I reached the end of the runway and turned, my eyes scanned the front row. To my surprise, there was Xander. His eyes widened in shock, and I could see he was struck by my appearance. He hadn't known I would be here, let alone that I was participating. The realization hit me: he was the chief guest, invited by the organizers without my knowledge.

After the show, backstage was a frenzy of congratulations and celebrations. My instructor, Stefan, found me in the crowd. "You were amazing, Zea!" he exclaimed, pulling me into a warm hug. His pride in my performance was evident, and I hugged him back, grateful for his support.

As I pulled away from Stefan, I caught sight of Xander standing a few feet away. His expression was a storm of emotions-anger, jealousy, and something else I couldn't quite identify. He turned and walked away before I could say anything, leaving a trail of tension in his wake.

The ride home was silent. I could feel the anger radiating off Xander, but I didn't have the energy to address it. As soon as we walked through the door, he exploded.

"So, you're keeping secrets now?" he spat, his voice dripping with accusation.

"What are you talking about?" I retorted, already exhausted from the high of the show and the low of this confrontation.

"You and Stefan," he snapped. "And Noah, and Eli! How many more are there, Zea?"

My blood ran cold. "They are just friends, Xander. You're being ridiculous."

"Ridiculous?" He laughed bitterly. "I saw the way he hugged you. Don't lie to me."

"You're paranoid!" I shot back. "There is nothing going on. Why can't you just believe me?"

His eyes blazed with fury. "Believe you? After everything? You've been hiding things from me!"

"I didn't tell you about the show because I knew you'd react like this!" I shouted. "You always twist everything!"

The fight escalated, each of us hurling accusations and words that cut deep. He accused me of infidelity, of betrayal, and I retaliated by bringing up his coldness, his mood swings. The anger between us was palpable, each word a blow, each silence a chasm.

Finally, we stood facing each other, panting from the effort of our argument. In that charged moment, our eyes locked. The distance between us, the mistrust, and the pain-all of it hung in the air like a suffocating fog. Yet, beneath the anger, there was an undeniable attraction, a desperate need for connection that neither of us could deny.

Without thinking, we were in each other's arms. The fight turned into something entirely different. The intensity of our anger transformed into a desperate need for closeness. We clung to each other, the heat of the argument melting into a fiery passion.

Our lips met in a fierce, passionate kiss. It was as if all the pent-up emotions of the past weeks burst out at once. Xander's hands gripped my waist, pulling me closer until there was no space left between us. I wrapped my arms around his neck, deepening the kiss, losing myself in the heat of the moment.

Suddenly, Xander lifted me, and I instinctively wrapped my legs around his waist. The contact sent a shiver down my spine. He carried me effortlessly to the bedroom, never breaking the kiss. When he laid me on the bed, his mouth trailed down to my neck, his kisses turning my skin to fire. His lips found the sensitive spot just below my ear, and I gasped, my fingers digging into his shoulders.

Xander's kisses became more urgent, his teeth grazing my skin. I felt a sharp, delicious sting as he bit down lightly, marking me with a hickey. "You're mine," he growled against my skin. "No one else will ever touch you."

The possessiveness in his voice sent a thrill through me, and I arched against him, my body responding to his every touch. Things were spiraling out of control, the intensity between us reaching a fever pitch. His hands roamed over my dress, fingers fumbling with the delicate fabric, desperate to remove it.

Just as he began to peel the dress away, there was a knock at the door. We both froze, the spell of the moment shattered. We stared at each other, breathless and wide-eyed, the heat of our encounter hanging in the air.

"Who could that be?" I whispered, my voice shaky.

Xander's jaw tightened. "I don't know, but they have the worst timing." He slowly pulled away, leaving me aching for his touch.

I sat up, trying to compose myself, my heart still racing. The knock came again, more insistent this time. Whoever it was, they weren't going away.

"I'll get it," Xander said, his voice thick with frustration. He stood up, adjusting his clothes before heading to the door.

As I watched him go, I couldn't help but wonder what this interruption meant for us. The intense, heated moment had been broken, but the underlying issues between us were far from resolved.