𝐁𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐒𝐅𝐔𝐋 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐎𝐒 | SPINOFF

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

LILIANA
ROSELINE

The air in my room was thick with tension, my heart heavy with worry for Avery. She was lying in a hospital bed somewhere, and I hadn't even turned my phone on for the last two days. I couldn't bear the messages, the sympathetic texts, the people trying to understand something they could never understand. Taylor Swift's playlist played softly in the background, her lyrics the only thing keeping me grounded.

Then, suddenly, a loud, sharp slam against my window jolted me out of my thoughts. I jumped off the bed, my heart racing as I looked over to see a shadow on the other side of the glass. My fingers shook as I pulled the window open, my breath catching when I saw who it was. "Jaxon?" I whispered, my voice barely audible. "What are you doing here so late?"

Jaxon Crist stood there, wild and broken, his usually sharp eyes bloodshot, his hair a mess as he staggered inside. I could smell the weed on him before he even stepped through, the potent, smoky scent clinging to his clothes. He looked at me, his usual smirk gone, replaced by something dark and heavy.

"Are you high?" I asked, searching his face. There was something different in his eyes, something almost desperate, like he was running from something he couldn't escape.

He didn't answer. Instead, he shrugged off his hoodie and threw it across the room, then flopped down on my bed, his movements unsteady. The notorious Jaxon Crist, my best friend's older brother, the guy everyone warned me about, the one who always had a devil-may-care grin, looked vulnerable. It was jarring, and yet... I couldn't look away.

I approached him slowly, my fingers twitching with hesitation as I sat beside him, my heart pounding as I took his hand. His skin was warm, rough, and something about that touch felt electric, like I was breaking a rule I'd always wanted to break.

"Is it because of what happened to Avery?" I asked softly, my thumb grazing over his knuckles, hoping he'd open up, that he'd trust me enough to let me in. "Jaxon, she's going to be okay. She's strong. She'll pull through this."

He looked up at me, his eyes flickering with something raw, something I hadn't seen before. "You make it sound so easy," he muttered, his voice thick with something that wasn't just the high. He held my gaze, his eyes dark and glassy, and for the first time, he looked fragile. "Liliana, you have no idea what it's like... how much you mean to me. I don't deserve it, but you're the only thing that makes me feel worth something."

My heart stuttered at his words. "Jaxon..." I whispered, my voice barely holding steady. "Don't say things like that. Not when you're like this." I said. "I want you too," I admit, my voice barely steady. "But everyone else does too. We wouldn't work, Jaxon. Even just as friends, I get threats from girls who are desperate to be close to you. I don't want to live constantly wondering who you're with or what they're saying about me."

He pulls me closer, his voice low and steady. "I'd be yours, completely. No other girls, none of it. You already have me, Liliana; you're the one who won't let yourself keep me. If I belonged to you, no one would dare say a word. I'd spend every second with you, and trust me, I've been yours since we were kids. I need you, Liliana."

Before I can protest, he interrupts, his tone pleading. "I'd get on my knees if that's what it takes. I'd beg until my last breath, and even then, I'd keep begging. I'll never stop."

He reached out, his hand wrapping around mine tightly, his gaze searing into me. "I mean it. You make me feel alive. Like there's something good in this world worth holding on to. I like you, Liliana Roseline," he whispered, his voice trembling, his thumb brushing over the back of my hand. "I've liked you for so damn long, and I can't look at anyone else. They all fade the second you walk into the room."

I didn't know what to say. My heart pounded, and I felt my resolve slipping, crumbling under the weight of his words. He was dangerous; he was trouble in every way, and yet... I couldn't help the pull I felt toward him.

"Jaxon..." I murmured, barely able to breathe. "You know this isn't going to end well. You and me... we're a bad idea."

He smirked, but it was a broken, bitter smile. "I live for bad ideas, Liliana. You know that. But for you? I'd risk everything. You think I care about what people say? You think I care about the consequences?" His grip on my waist tightened as he pulled me closer, his voice lowering to a desperate whisper. "I want you, Liliana. I need you. Every single night, you haunt me, and I can't stand it. You're all I think about."

I felt myself melting, the tension in the room thickening as he brought his face closer to mine, his breath warm against my skin. "One kiss," he murmured, his voice rough and pleading. "Just one. That's all I need. I'm not asking for a fairytale. I just want one moment where it's only you and me."

I stared into his eyes, the darkness in them swallowing me whole. I knew if I crossed this line, there'd be no turning back. But Jaxon had a way of making me forget every rule, every fear, every reason why this was a bad idea.

And so, with a shaky breath, I leaned in, pressing my lips against his. It was tentative at first, soft and gentle, but Jaxon wasn't one for gentle. His hands tangled in my hair, pulling me closer, deepening the kiss with a fervor that left me breathless. His lips moved against mine, intense and desperate, like he was pouring every unspoken word into that kiss.

My hands found their way to his shoulders, gripping him as if he were my lifeline. He tasted like smoke and something dark, something forbidden, and I couldn't get enough. His touch was searing, his fingers tracing a line down my back, leaving a trail of fire in their wake.

He pulled back, just enough to look at me, his forehead resting against mine. "You think you're so perfect, so good," he whispered, his voice laced with a dark edge. "But I know the truth. I see the part of you that craves danger, that craves me."

I shivered, his words sending a thrill down my spine. "Maybe I'm not as good as everyone thinks," I murmured, barely able to find my voice.

A slow, wicked smile spread across his face. "Good," he whispered, his hands sliding to my hips. "Because I wanted the good girl.  But I want the real you. The one who doesn't care what anyone thinks. I'd ruin your image, I know—the perfect smart girl—but I'll also show you what real means."

In that moment, I knew I was lost.