Falling

Dinner?

Yana

I quickly rushed to the mirror, my heart racing like a drum. The moment I leaned in to see what had happened, my jaw nearly hit the floor. Oh. My. God. A motherfreaking hickey?! And not just any hickey—this thing was dark, like it had been stamped on with a neon sign screaming "CLAIMED."

I groaned, touching the tender spot on my collarbone as panic started to settle in. What the hell, Shine? My mind raced through a million scenarios.

Mum and Dad are totally going to notice this. There's no way I can hide it. No scarf, no concealer, not even a miracle could fix this in time!

I stared at my reflection, cheeks flaming, feeling utterly exposed and betrayed by my own body. How could I walk down to dinner like this, surrounded by my family—the very people who had just dropped the mafia bombshell on me—and now deal with a glowing, unapologetic mark courtesy of Shine?

I paced around my room like a caged animal, clutching the edge of my pajama top as if that alone could somehow erase the evidence. What do I do? What do I do?! My mind was spiraling, a full-on panic brewing.

Shine. That smug idiot. He did this on purpose. He knew what he was doing, and now I was the one stuck with the fallout. My parents would either lecture me into oblivion or—oh no—start giving me the "safe choices" talk. I cringed just thinking about it.

I glanced at the mirror again, tilting my head to assess the damage. Yep, still there, bold as ever. The bruise had settled into a perfect mix of red and purple, like it had been strategically placed to make it impossible to ignore. I groaned, slumping against the dresser. How does one even explain a hickey during a family dinner? Oh, this? Bug bite. Allergy. Tattoo practice? No, no, no!

And then there was him. Shine. I could still feel the ghost of his lips on my skin, the heat of his breath, the way he'd said, "You're mine." A shiver ran through me, and I hated how much it affected me. He was probably downstairs right now, smirking like he owned the place—and, apparently, me too.

Focus, Yuna, I told myself, shaking my head. I was not about to let him win. I rummaged through my dresser, searching for a scarf, a hoodie, anything that could cover up the mark. Finally, I found a lightweight cardigan and threw it on, buttoning it all the way to the top. It wasn't perfect, but it would have to do.

Taking a deep breath, I stepped out of my room, bracing myself for dinner. As I descended the stairs, I caught Shine leaning casually against the dining room doorframe, arms crossed, his smirk so infuriatingly smug it made my blood boil.

His eyes flicked to me, and the moment they landed on the buttoned-up cardigan, his smirk widened. "Covering it up, huh?" he teased, his voice low enough that only I could hear. "Cute. But it won't help, baby. They'll know."

I shot him a glare, my cheeks flushing. "Shut up, Shine," I hissed, brushing past him. If they find out, I'm blaming you, I thought, determined not to give him the satisfaction of seeing me squirm any more than I already had.

Dinner was going to be a nightmare, and I wasn't sure whether I was more terrified of my parents noticing the hickey—or the fact that part of me didn't mind that it was there.

I stepped into the dining room, my nerves tightly wound as I scanned the table. Everyone was already seated, chatting casually like there wasn't a storm brewing inside me. My dad was at the head of the table, my mom to his right, and Seth and Mrs. Luce on the other side. Shine took his sweet time trailing in after me, casually pulling out the chair beside mine and sitting down like he didn't have a care in the world.