𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐄𝐄𝐓 ˣ 𝐆𝐑𝐈𝐃 | ᵃʳˡᵉᶜᶜʰⁱⁿᵒ, ᶠᵘʳⁱⁿᵃ

14: 𝙛𝙡𝙪𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙚𝙙 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙘𝙤𝙣𝙛𝙪𝙨𝙚𝙙

Happy 10k :]

IM SORRY FOR TAKING SO LONGGG I WAS GRADUATING

And also, I was really upset with how my writing had downgraded in the recent chapters and I made sure to improve it! Sorry again for a taking a long while (꒦ິ⌑︎꒦ີ) but I really do appreciate the support even when I was gone for months! Every comment truly warms my heart!

And hey, it took me 69 days to publish a new chapter so, haha?

This one is a bit short because this part was deemed enough to be a chapter itself in the draft I made

3007 words ( ੭⌯᷄ω⌯᷅ ).｡
***

After dominating several rounds of billiards—thanks in no small part to Arlecchino Maël Knave's precise, hands-on guidance—Furina excused herself from the bustling lounge, seeking refuge in the bar. The club pulsed with neon lights and bass-heavy music, a storm of noise and movement Furina had long grown used to, though she'd never quite stopped finding it overwhelming.

She needed a break.

Especially after that... moment with Arlecchino.

Just the memory of it made her heart stutter in her chest. It was absurd, really—how could a simple game of billiards leave her this flustered? Sure, the Knave was merely guiding her movements, correcting her aim, helping her line up the cue. But the way she stood behind her, hands grazing her arms, voice low and close by her ear... it had sent shivers down her spine. Not from fear, no. Far from it.

That wasn't fear. That was something else entirely.

Furina released a long breath, trying to steady herself as she approached the bar. Ever since their heated rivalry back in their Formula 2 days, Arlecchino had been... different. Not in a bad way. Just—odd. Not the creepy kind of odd, more like... peculiarly intense. Mysterious. Confusing.

God, what am I even thinking?

She waved away her thoughts like smoke, too tired to unpack that mess. The overthinking was giving her a headache. She reached for a shot glass from one of the roaming servers and tossed it back without hesitation. The tequila burned its way down her throat.

"Great," she muttered to herself, grimacing. "That'll give me a hangover tomorrow."

Still, it was worth it. Anything to dull the thoughts buzzing in her mind. She leaned against the bar and scanned the room, letting herself soak in the party's atmosphere. Wriothesley had outdone himself this time—no surprise, really. As one of the most celebrated figures in Formula 1, second only to Arlecchino, he had plenty of reasons to celebrate... and plenty of friends to join him in doing so.

But her brief moment of peace shattered in an instant.

Her gaze caught on something—or rather, someone—across the room.

Tucked away in a quieter corner of the club, just barely visible through the shifting crowd, stood two figures. One of them she recognized immediately: her teammate. The very same woman who usually shied away from social gatherings and preferred solitude now stood inches away from another woman. Their faces were close. Too close.

Almost touching.

Their eyes were locked.

Furina's breath caught in her throat.

She blinked once. Twice. Then a third time, as if her vision was deceiving her. Maybe it was the lights. Or the alcohol. Or the pounding in her temples. But no—this was real. The two of them looked intimate in a way that Furina had never seen before. It was strange. Shocking. Unsettling.