"You said you love me? Then beg for it. Beg for my love. Show me-prove it again and again until I say yes."
Beatrix is a girl of few words, someone who keeps her emotions locked away, unwilling to let anyone close. After experiencing deep trust issu...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Beatrix:
The silence in the room was suffocating.
I lay there, staring at the ceiling, the events of last night playing in an endless loop in my mind. Every word, every touch, every desperate plea—I had meant it all. It wasn’t some drunken whim, not some fleeting impulse clouded by alcohol. I wanted it.
And yet… Ethan had pulled away.
He had stopped me.
He hadn’t acted like I thought he would, like any other man would. I had expected hunger, desire, and eagerness acceptance of what I was offering. But instead, I got restraint. A quiet, unshakable control that left me feeling more exposed than if he had taken me without hesitation.
I turned my head, scanning the room, but he wasn’t there. A strange knot twisted in my stomach. Did he leave?
Before the thought could spiral, his voice broke through the silence.
"You're awake."
I jerked upright, my eyes snapping toward the doorway.
Ethan stood there, leaning against the frame with an unreadable expression, his presence steady, grounding. He looked… normal. As if nothing had happened. As if nothing had changed.
But everything had changed.
I nodded stiffly, my mind still tangled in last night’s memories.
"You should freshen up," he said, his tone smooth, effortlessly calm. A small, knowing smile tugged at the corner of his lips. "Once you're ready, we'll have breakfast."
Breakfast.
Like this was just any other morning.
Like I wasn’t unraveling inside.
I swallowed hard, pushing back the emotions clawing at my chest. He was fine—composed, in control—while I was still struggling to piece myself together.
I stood on unsteady legs, making my way to the bathroom, shutting the door behind me with a little more force than necessary.
The moment I was alone, I gripped the edges of the sink, forcing myself to take slow, deep breaths. My reflection in the mirror was a mess—hair tangled, eyes red-rimmed, lips still slightly swollen from that kiss.
I turned on the faucet, splashing cold water onto my face. The sharp sting of it shocked my senses, grounding me, forcing my mind to focus.
"Everything is fine." The words slipped from my lips in a whisper.
I clenched my jaw, staring at my reflection, as if I could force myself to believe it.