Being Elle

Chapter 2: Go On, Have A Bite

The sunlight streamed in through the blinds, pulling Jordan from an uneasy sleep. He stirred, groggy, and stretched his limbs, his body feeling strangely different. For a moment, he lay there in bed, staring at the ceiling, trying to shake off the remnants of what he hoped had been a bizarre dream.

But the sensation of something heavy on his chest and the unfamiliar way his hips shifted under the blanket told him otherwise.

Panic flared in his chest as the memories of the night before came rushing back—Selene, the shop, the curse. His pulse quickened as he jumped out of bed and hurried into the bathroom, heart pounding in his ears.

He flicked on the light and winced at the bright glow overhead as his reflection filled the mirror. He froze, mouth falling open as he stared into the eyes of the same woman again. It definitely was not a dream.

Her long, tousled hair cascaded down her shoulders, framing a face that was strikingly beautiful. Full lips, high cheekbones, and wide, expressive eyes stared back in horror. And her body—God, the curves, breasts that strained against the oversized t-shirt she'd slept in, hips that swayed slightly with each breath, and a softness to her skin that made it impossible to deny the truth.

This wasn't some nightmare she could wake up from. This was reality.

Her hands trembled as she reached up to touch her face, half hoping it would break the illusion. But the soft skin, the delicate jawline—it was all her. All real. "Fuck..." Jordan muttered, the sound of her voice higher, softer, and foreign to her ears. She grimaced, biting her lip in frustration.

She was stuck like this for sure. As much as she wanted to scream and pound her fists against the counter, there was only one thing that she could do. She had to find Selene.

The toothbrush trembled in her hand as she began to brush her teeth, her eyes fixed on the reflection in the mirror, hoping that somehow, brushing away the sleep might erase what she was seeing. But there was no escaping it. Jordan rinsed her mouth, staring at the toothpaste foam in the sink, as if it held some answers to the insanity of the past few hours. She reached for a towel, wiping her face, and then stopped as her eyes drifted down to the unfamiliar swell of her breasts, rising and falling with each breath. Her cheeks flushed.

What the hell am I supposed to wear? She glanced around her room, realizing her usual wardrobe was useless now. Nothing in her closet or drawers would fit her new shape. She tried tugging on one of her t-shirts, but her breasts stretched the fabric too tight, leaving little to the imagination. Pants were worse—her new hips filled them in ways she never had before, and they were uncomfortable, digging into her skin.

Frustrated, Jordan rummaged through her closet until she found the old sweater and a pair of sweatpants that she had desperately ran to the shop in last night. They had always been too baggy for her male form. Now, they fit snugly enough to cover her body without drawing too much attention—though no matter how much she tried to cover up, her curves couldn't be hidden completely.

God, this is humiliating, she thought as she stared at herself in the mirror one last time. There was no escaping the fact that, no matter what she wore, she was drop-dead gorgeous—and every bit as feminine as she had feared.

Taking a deep breath, she slipped on a pair of shoes that fit loosely, grabbed her keys, and headed out the door. She prayed she wouldn't run into anyone, but as soon as she entered the lobby of her building, her worst fears were realized.

The eyes of every man in the room seemed to lock onto her the moment she walked in. She felt their gazes trailing up and down her body, lingering on her hips, her breasts, and her legs despite the baggy clothes. Their eyes were filled with something she had always been so familiar with—a hunger she had never been on the receiving end of.