The Veil of Glass

Dancing with Fate

The bass from the loud music thudded through the floor, reverberating up Clarissa's legs as she danced. She twirled with her friends, laughter bubbling up every time the music shifted. Everything around her was a kaleidoscope of colors and energy—the flashing lights, the spinning dresses, the sweaty, smiling faces of her classmates. But even in the middle of it all, something gnawed at her mind, pulling her away from the joy of the moment.

Liora.

Out of the corner of her eye, Clarissa had noticed Liora standing alone, her gaze fixated on Azazel in a way that sent a shiver down Clarissa's spine. It wasn't the look of someone casually admiring a friend—it was intense, expectant. Liora's eyes followed every move Azazel made, and there was something unsettling about the way she watched him. Like she was waiting for him to do something, or perhaps... waiting for an opportunity herself.

Clarissa's thoughts churned as she swayed to the beat. She had already felt suspicious of Liora for a while now, ever since those weird comments about Azazel. And tonight, the way Liora stared at him—it confirmed what Clarissa had suspected for weeks. Liora wasn't just interested in Azazel, she was obsessed with him.

Clarissa's stomach twisted. She couldn't shake the feeling that something wasn't right about all this. She needed solid evidence. Something concrete to show Nathaniel, or better yet, Azazel. That's when an idea struck her.

Clarissa smiled, though the plan forming in her head wasn't innocent.

She glanced toward Azazel, who was standing by the punch table, talking casually with Nathaniel and a few others. Liora wasn't far, lingering on the outskirts of the conversation, her eyes never straying from him. Clarissa felt her pulse quicken as she made her move.

She walked up to Azazel with her usual grace, slipping her hand into his without a second thought. He looked at her in surprise, but she didn't give him time to react.

"Azazel, come with me," she said, pulling him through the crowd without waiting for an answer.

Azazel followed without protest, but there was confusion written on his face. Clarissa led him directly toward Liora, who stood frozen in place, her gaze flickering between Clarissa and Azazel as they approached.

"Liora, can you do me a favor?" Clarissa said, her voice loud enough to be heard over the music but calm enough to sound casual. Liora's eyes widened slightly, unsure of what was coming next. Clarissa shot her a smile, masking her real intentions. "Can you dance with Azazel? I really have something urgent to do at home, and I think I'll leave early. So, I'm putting him in your care."

Before either of them could respond, Clarissa let go of Azazel's hand and disappeared into the crowd.

Liora blinked, her mind trying to catch up with what had just happened. Clarissa was leaving? And she was leaving Azazel with her?

She stole a glance at Azazel, who looked equally confused. "That's... weird," Liora said, half-laughing, more to herself than to Azazel. But then she noticed the subtle clenching of Azazel's jaw, a brief flicker of something that passed through his expression.

Was he mad? Did he want to dance with Clarissa instead?

A pang of jealousy hit Liora hard, but she quickly masked it with a smile. She looked down at the floor, feeling a knot of disappointment form in her chest. Maybe he didn't want to dance with her. Maybe she was just his friend—nothing more, nothing less.

But then, the unexpected happened.

"Will you dance with me, Liora?" Azazel's voice cut through her self-doubt, quiet yet commanding.

Liora's heart stopped. She stared at him, her breath catching in her throat. Was this really happening? Had he really just asked her?

She nodded before she could even think about it, her pulse quickening as Azazel gently took her hand. His other hand found her waist, pulling her just a little closer than she had imagined. Liora wasn't prepared for the warmth of his body so close to hers, or the way he looked at her with a faint smile—a smile that wasn't exactly friendly, but wasn't dismissive either.

They swayed to the slow rhythm of the song, the crowd around them blurring into nothingness. All that mattered in this moment was him. Liora's thoughts became a tangled web of excitement and desire as she gazed up at Azazel.

"You look different today, Liora," Azazel said, his voice barely audible over the music.

Liora's breath hitched. She tried to respond, but all that escaped her lips was a soft smile. The dark voice in her head whispered to her, growing louder with each second that passed. This is it. This is the moment.

Her eyes traveled down the length of his body, taking in every detail—the sharp cut of his black tux, the way his hair was perfectly slicked back, the slight scruff on his jawline. He looked otherworldly, too perfect to be real. She wanted to reach out and touch him, claim him as hers.

Her hand drifted from his shoulder, inching closer to his neck. She wanted to feel the skin there, to press her lips against it, to mark him. Mine. He's mine.

And for a brief, delirious moment, she thought he might let her.

Azazel didn't pull away. He didn't stop her as her fingers grazed the side of his neck, her thumb brushing against the pulse she could feel beneath his skin. Her mind raced, consumed by the urge to possess him completely. She leaned in closer, closing the gap between them, desperate to feel the heat of his body.

But before she could act, the moment shattered.

"Have you guys seen Clarissa?"

Nathaniel's voice cut through the haze like a knife, pulling Liora back to reality. She blinked, startled as Azazel immediately pulled away from her, stepping back to put distance between them. Her blood boiled in frustration. So close. So close.

"She went home, I think," Azazel replied, his voice sounding slightly off. Nathaniel's worried expression didn't fade, though.

"That's strange. Her mom just called me, asking where she was. That means she isn't home," Nathaniel said, glancing between Azazel and Liora with concern. "We need to find her."

Azazel nodded in agreement, and the three of them quickly made their way toward the exit, scanning the crowds for any sign of Clarissa. But Liora's mind was far from concerned with finding her friend. All she could think about was the missed opportunity. How close she had been to having Azazel all to herself.

They searched the halls, the bathrooms, even outside near the parking lot, but there was no sign of Clarissa anywhere. Liora only pretended to care, her mind already drifting back to the dance she had just shared with Azazel. She wanted to replay it over and over again in her mind, to cling to the memory of his touch.

By the time they gave up the search and left the school, Liora's frustration had morphed into something darker. She needed to be alone, to relive that moment with Azazel without any distractions. She needed more time—just a little more time to make him hers.

When she arrived home, however, something was off.

The front door was slightly ajar, and the lights in her room were on. Liora paused, her heart skipping a beat. She was certain she had turned everything off before leaving for prom.

Slowly, she pushed the door open and stepped inside, her skin prickling with unease.

As she approached her bedroom, a cold chill ran down her spine. The door creaked open, and what she saw stopped her dead in her tracks.

Clarissa

Clarissa was sitting on her bed, her face pale and stricken with disbelief, staring at something that Liora couldn't yet see.