Disclaimer: I had a random thought the other day. What if my spirit was reincarnated into every person that every existed. Wouldn't I be Straffi...technically? Oh...and I would also be Hitler and the lives he killed. Nevermind.

Fragile Innocence

By: Renachi

CHAPTER ONE – VALENTINE'S GIFT

"Are you sure you don't want me to stay with you?" Musa had earlier that night asked Layla for the third time.

As usual, Layla said she was "absolutely, perfectly, completely fine with spending Valentine's Day all by herself."

Of course she lied.

She was far from fine, and pondered what idiocy compelled her to tag along with the Winx and their boyfriends on Valentine's Day. Why did she accept her friends' invitation to their Valentine Day "group outing" to Magix—group date?

Though she never voiced a single complaint, as usual, Layla was sick and tired being the third wheel—or even the fourth, fifth, or even sixth wheel— in her friends' romantic relationships. It felt like she had returned to her first year at Alfea when she worried about fitting in with the Winx, except this time she actually didn't fit in as she was unable to join in with all her engaged friends. Marriages tore apart her friendships.

Bloom and Stella were already married. It was only a matter of time till everyone in the group would marry, then the Winx would eventually disband and slowly lose contact with each other. Surviving through all those life-threatening moments and save-the-universe situation that built up the group's relationship didn't matter when, at the end of the day, every one of the Winx ran off with her little "boyfriend" into the setting sun, leaving her behind.

One time she considered the pleasant thought of all of the girls simultaneously breaking up with their beloved. It was a bittersweet dream that ended in bedlam. Even her dreams morphed into nightmares.

All Layla could do was patiently watch like a statue as everyone else passed by her on their way into the life of sweet marriage while she was stuck in stalemate. She couldn't dream. She couldn't hope.

But of course it wasn't their fault. No way. It wasn't their fault that all of Layla's friends had love lives while she rot in a single woman's lifestyle that she chose to live. At the end of the day, she blamed herself for all her misery.

On Valentine's Day, more than ever before, Layla missed Nabu.

I really needed to get more single girlfriends, she thought with a sigh as she asked the bartender to pour her another drink.

"Why is a beautiful lady drinking all by herself on a beautiful Valentine's Day night?" Layla turned to the suave voice next to her, and suddenly her eyes suddenly fogged up when she met the startling image of Nabu under the bar's dim light.

So you hallucinate now too, Layla.

Perhaps the bartender had added some drug into her drink. She discreetly sniffed the solution lightly, but noticed nothing odd. Damn. So did that mean that this Nabu was, real? Too bad. She was hoping that he was the ghostly fiancé that she often met in her dreams.

Layla grunted a response to the Nabu look-a-like, "Your question is an insult. Don't you know the answer already?"

A grin grew as he let out a low chuckle. "Yes, but I doubted myself because you look too beautiful to be single."

Single. The word stung, but Layla buried her emotion, wearing an unaffected mask.

"So what's your name?" he continued with his attempts to charm the dismal princess.

Layla bitterly chuckled. Fate was extremely cruel to torture her with the image of Nabu. Thoughts of scaring the man away with a hiss sounded attractive, but Layla couldn't bring herself to say such words to a nostalgic face.

"Lay—I mean… Aisha. My name is Aisha," she lied. "Yours?"

"Ofir, and I'll let you in on a little secret." A sly grin graced his lips as he leaned into her ear and whispered in a seductive voice, "I can give you sensual pleasure…for a price."

She immediately cringed and leaned backwards, sending an angry glare at the man. "You're a gigolo?" she hissed with the repulsive taste of scorn on her tongue.

"I prefer to say that I give pleasure." The alluring man lowered his eyes and took a lock of Layla's soft hair in his hand, caressing the lock gently. "So, what do you say Aisha?"

"I refu—"

A sudden thought paused Layla's words. Why did she have to refuse? Here she was, mourning in a cesspool of loneliness when a man, who looked like her late fiancé, was offering the chance to relive her romantic past for one night. What reason did she have to say no?

None.

A wry smile surfaced on Layla's face as her eyes tentatively shone with dim fear. "Actually, I'll take you up on that offer. Meet me in room four-four-four in the Milton an hour from now." The easiness of replying surprised her as words sounding confident fell from her loose lips.

Then, leaving the conversation at that, Layla walked out into the drizzling rain.

ººº

Romantic kisses tested his patience.

As Helia's relationship with Flora progressed, so did his inability to restrain himself from pouncing on the sweet flower girl. Flora's smooth body was just too tempting, and many occasions, he found himself unconsciously dragging her shirt up.

Every time he reminded himself that he couldn't deflower her before marriage, before she allowed him to. Stealing her virginity would make him the bad guy. More than anything else, he didn't want to be seen as the bad guy through Flora's eyes, but it was a colossal task for him to hold back the lustful beast within him every time Flora planted a sweet kiss on his lips.

That was one of the reasons he proposed.

Was it wrong to marry for sex?

Helia quickly banished any second thoughts that blurred his decision, and continued with his plan.

Helia proposed to her in a red rose garden after a romantic candlelit dinner. As he bent down and proposed, suspenseful silence ensued as the first droplets of rain fell from the sky and drenched the couple from head to toe.

"Yes!" Flora covered her gasping mouth with her hands, tears of happiness streaming from her eyes. "Yes!"

The next thing Helia knew, the two of them were connected in a hot, passionate kiss. A strong current ran through his nerves, firing up his body and making him feel alive. Salty tears and rain mixed into the gentle kiss. He slipped his fingers into Flora matted hair, drawing her body closer.

Flora gasped as Helia's hands made their way downwards, he could feel her body shiver when he ran a tender finger down her back. Neither of them wanted to unlock their lips, but eventually the inevitable release arrived.

As they pulled away, panting, Flora stared at Helia with emerald eyes peeking under her sexily drooped eyelids. "Let's make love."

Helia instantly felt his body stiffen like a stick. "Flora?" he choked as he caressed his love's drenched cheeks.

"Helia…I don't think I can wait," she whispered with her shaking voice full of fragile courage. She brought her trembling hand to a rest on top of the palm cupping her cheek, and sent a loving gaze which deeply penetrated every barrier in Helia's mind.

At that moment, he knew he couldn't refuse. He started to lean in to devour Flora's sweet lips in his own when she suddenly turned her head. "I want…I want to do this the right way, please? Go back to the hotel and change then meet me in my room, room number four-oh-four."

Helia drove back to the hotel, His heart thumped erratically as he approached the hotel's entrance and change into a dry pair of jeans and shirt. He occasionally touched his plump lips, as a reminder that Flora had invited him to cross the line on her own accord, while he rode the elevator up to the fourth floor.

Room four-four-four, he thought as she glanced at the room numbers.

When he got to the door, his hand nervously reached for the knob, as the tension in his body escalated. Once he entered, there was no going back.

"Hello?" he tentatively whispered. Complete darkness engulfed the room and drew him in.

Suddenly, a warm hand grabbed his shirt and pulled him down onto the bed with its sheets already spread. Her moist breath pressed against his bare chest as clothing quickly fell. Her boldness startled him as lips fell on his own.

Helia could feel emotion in her sweet kiss as he explored her mouth and his libido awakened. He could feel the pulsing timidness and desperation seep from her plump lip and her baby-soft naked body press against his skin, destroying every wall of restraint he had carefully built.

Adrenaline, hot and blinding like fire, coursed through his veins, and he felt like he was on fire, as if someone had dropped a torch into the bed. That was when Helia set himself free and lost himself in an ocean of ecstasy, becoming one with passion.

ººº

Layla looked up to blink away the tears prickling her eyes.

She scurried across the lobby with her face buried in her jacket. The rain had stopped by then so Layla broke out into a limitless dash down the desolate sidewalk, every step making a loud splash.

Adrenaline coursed through her stream and momentarily let her forget about her betrayal. But eventually, the pain caught up with her and tears started to flow as she heavily breathed puffs into the chilly air. She slowed down and took deep sharp breaths before squatting down to curl into a ball and letting out a stifled gasp as she tried to swallow her betrayal, the fact that she, a noble individual to treasured her sisterly bonds over everything else, had betrayed a friendship.

"It's not my fault. It was all a mistake. I didn't know. We didn't know," she gasped, trying to convince herself with comforting, pretty lies. However her ears wouldn't believe her mouth because it knew of all the lies it spouted.

She couldn't stomach the feeling she felt as she joined with Helia, surge of life, a toe-curling sensation that sent shivers down her spine. She couldn't understand reality and fate or the moment when the lights flickered on and Helia laid there instead of Ofir. She couldn't understand anything. Or rather she wouldn't.

"Layla?"

Her eyes flew up and recognized the familiar face, and she instantly wrapped her coast round her tighter as if it the act could protect her from the hurt.

"Musa," she breathed in acknowledgement.

"Are you…ok?"

Her heart already numb to the guilt following a lie, Layla swallowed, and effortlessly replied, "I'm fine."

I've decided that this chapter shot me into a micro depression. I'm not sure if a bitter and cynical Layla is OOC because Layla changes personalities every season...or so I've heard.

Excuse me as I go jump off a rock.