Maybe if it had been a normal day, they wouldn't have been so downcast. The girls were gathered in the room, tirelessly training with the exercise equipment their instructors had given them to build muscle. Aisha might have been the only one not exerting herself, as the most skilled and athletic of them all, she hadn't had to struggle much to keep up at Red Fountain from the very beginning. While that had its positives, it also came with many negatives. The specialists had become obsessed with the wave fairy and were doing everything they could to push her to her limits. She quickly tied her hair into a ponytail and reached for her dumbbells without wasting any time, continuing her workout by lifting weights. What had always challenged her was never sports or fighting—she could handle those. But the coldness that had settled between her and Nabu in the mornings was wreaking havoc on her mind. Because when darkness fell, and Red Fountain's unique weather conditions came into play, drenching everything in rain, Aisha found herself beneath the man she loved, moaning his name.
When the dumbbell slipped from her hand and landed with a heavy thud, the girls jumped, turning to her with concern. Aisha, breathing heavily in frustration, dropped the other weight as well and sat down, resting her forehead on her knees and taking deep breaths.
"Hey," Flora's gentle touch indicated her presence as the other girls slowly gathered around Aisha. "What's wrong? You've been distracted all morning."
All morning? Aisha frowned, shaking her head slightly without lifting it. "All morning" was an understatement; this situation had been bothering her for two weeks already. What had initially seemed like a fling had turned into something more serious, and she had been quite happy that there wasn't any commitment involved, cheerfully heading to Nabu's room. But when her parents told her they had found the perfect spouse for her, guilt had started eating her alive. She hadn't told Nabu, even though she knew he would understand. She had held back, out of fear and an irrational sense of loneliness. It was absurd to feel lonely, especially with Stella around, who had been through this many times before, yet Aisha couldn't bring herself to confide in her because Stella was in an even worse state, and Aisha could see that.
Since their trip to Solaria, Stella had been wandering around like a ghost, and when they learned they were coming to Red Fountain, the only emotion visible in her eyes had been a mix of excitement and fear, with that same emptiness lingering. Once they arrived here, things had taken an even worse turn. Stella, with an uncharacteristic fierceness, had been requesting duels almost every day. Faragonda had chosen Stella to lead the girls, but lately, all the responsibility had fallen on Flora. While Flora spent most of her time trying to prevent conflicts between the girls and the boys, Tecna helped her with technical issues. Meanwhile, the courtyard was left to Aisha, Bloom, and Musa. What these three were up to and how they were holding up was largely unknown. Bloom was mostly caught leaving the prince's room. Apparently, the prince was personally training her to improve her combat skills, but with a room and two young people who liked each other, it wasn't hard to imagine what was really going on.
Musa, on the other hand, was entirely focused on rebellion. She had taken a few younger fairies under her wing, and they were busy causing trouble and defeating the specialists in the most ruthless and comical ways possible. While Flora found Musa the most challenging to deal with, she was also the other innocent one who had fallen in love. Tecna, the only one whose logic was more awake than her feelings, was helpful in this situation, but after rejecting Timmy's offer to go out, even she didn't seem to be in the right state of mind.
"I'm tired." Though her voice wasn't convincing, Flora decided not to press her friend further. She removed her hand from Aisha's shoulder and sat down beside her, opting to wait. In fact, it was the perfect time to have the conversation she had wanted to have for a long time but had postponed every day. Taking advantage of the opportunity, she cleared her throat and closed her eyes, bracing herself for her friends' angry outbursts in a few seconds. "Girls, I know our love lives are turbulent." As expected, she received an immediate reaction. Tecna shot Flora a sharp look, while Musa and Bloom frowned at each other and then at Flora. Aisha, however, slowly lifted her head and looked at Flora thoughtfully. "How do you know?"
Flora blinked at her, as if not understanding for a moment, but before she could answer, Tecna interrupted. "I don't have a love life to distract me. If I'm not mistaken, the last thing I did was reject a relationship so I wouldn't be distracted, and now I'm burdened with the responsibilities that have fallen on me because of your love lives, which you can't seem to manage." Flora, having witnessed Tecna's harshness many times before, looked at her friend with hurt. Even though she knew Tecna was right, what could she do? They were in such a ridiculous situation that they were being blamed just for loving someone. This was because of the specialists' hatred. The hatred was so great and so well-known that when people saw a fairy and a specialist together, they either resorted to gossip or bullying because of the absurdity of it. The girls had therefore retreated and started doing what they needed to do in secret. During this time, they were being trained in another school, in ways they had never been trained before, and they were being pushed to their limits. Even though they knew they wouldn't stay for much longer and that Griselda was present, the pressure on them was indescribable.
"Tecna..." Tecna shook her head, raising her hand to stop Flora. "Nothing good will come from the specialists for us. Give up while you still can and move on, or it will be too late." After a brief exchange of looks, Tecna was the first to head for the exit. She was hurt, both by her friends and by herself. Rejecting Timmy had hurt her as much as it had hurt Timmy, and knowing that she was the reason for his pain made her feel incredibly burdened.
"Girls, we need to pull ourselves together. Three weeks have already passed; our training here will end soon." Musa grumbled as she sank to the floor with a posture that was far from ladylike. To hell with standards. "Flora, there's no need to be a Pollyanna. No one's going to let us leave here until we've learned to physically defend ourselves properly. It's part of the training, but I hate all of them so much that even if I wanted to, I can't take what they're teaching me as a lesson!"
Bloom crouched down beside Musa and looked at her thoughtfully for a while. She could agree with what Musa was saying, but lately, Sky had done so much to change her mind. "Musa, then use your hatred for them as a weapon. You already don't like them, so at least..."
"We won't get anywhere like this." Stella had entered the room and was watching her friends from a distance, and a silence fell over the room. Aisha muttered a curse under her breath as Flora quickly got to her feet and started to approach their battered friend with surprise and concern. "Damn it, Stella, what happened to you?" The girls quickly stood up and gathered around Stella, who was still thinking about the conversation they had just had. The Brandon issue could wait a little longer. "Our hatred may be great, but we've all fallen for one of them, and no matter how much the past carries scars, we love them. I can't ask you to change that, just as I struggle to change it myself. You already know that." As Flora listened to her, her hands began to glow as she hovered over her closest friend. This time, Stella didn't resist; she would prefer not to be bruised and battered when she threw herself into Brandon's arms tonight.
"Stella, I'm the last person who would tell you to stop, but stop." Though Aisha's words were met with a nod, she didn't expect her friend to listen to her warning, just as she hadn't stopped herself. Yet she had come close to losing Stella many times recently. There was a certain sensitivity toward Stella among the girls lately. Even Faragonda was included in this. Stella, on the other hand, was struggling with her own issues because the man she loved was on autopilot, and every time he realized he was following in his father's footsteps, he was uncontrollably in escape mode. When the girls' gaze finally broke and silence fell over the room, Stella pulled Flora close and hugged her tightly. "We'll get through this too." Musa wrapped her arms around the two of them, and Bloom quickly followed suit, expanding the embrace. Aisha, though the last to remain, leaned against the wall instead of joining in, exchanging a look with Stella. It seemed she wasn't the only one who would be taking a step toward the man she loved tonight. As their gazes deepened, Stella noticed the sorrow in Aisha's eyes, a sorrow as deep as her own, and frowned. Aisha, however, smiled and gave a small nod, signaling that she would explain later with a wink.
After everything they had been through, it was frustrating that the most challenging issue was a man. When it came to the men who made their hearts race, none of them could be indifferent.
Stella gazed thoughtfully at the key in her hand. She had taken advantage of Timmy's heartbreak after Tecna's rejection, later trapping the two tech geniuses in a room together. Timmy, aware of the situation, had repaid Stella's favor with one of his own, potentially at great personal cost. But at that moment, all that mattered to him was speaking with Tecna, so he hadn't thought twice about it. Stella hoped that Brandon wouldn't be too angry, especially since tensions had been high lately—everyone was on edge, particularly Brandon.
She tugged her nightgown down a bit as she quickened her pace; getting caught in this state was the last thing she wanted. In truth, she shouldn't have ventured out in her nightgown at all, but the fact that Brandon's room wasn't on the same floor as the dormitories had given her the courage to risk it. She moved quickly, her bare feet making soft, slapping sounds against the marble floor, hoping that no instructors or teachers would appear in the deserted corridor.
Fear gripped her, but she pressed on, relying on what she believed was her upper hand over Brandon. The thought of seeing Brandon with someone else was unbearable—she couldn't even imagine the despair she'd feel. Though she knew she was being unfair to herself by dwelling on things she shouldn't, she couldn't help it. When she finally reached the brown wooden door, she rolled her eyes at how different it was from the other automatic doors. Of course, you have to be different. To avoid thinking further, she quickly inserted the key into the lock and opened the door. She felt an immediate sense of relief, certain that Brandon wasn't inside. But it was almost eleven, and Stella knew from recent scolding's that he usually did the final check.
Brandon had caught her sneaking out for air on several occasions—whether standing on the balcony, taking late-night walks, or sneaking into the kitchen to quell the hunger pangs that came with last-minute stress. Each time, she had been caught and promptly sent back to her room with a stern reprimand. Stella's eyes scanned the room swiftly; as she had expected, it was plain and simple. The pitch-black walls were suffocating in their darkness, and Stella felt her breath catching in her throat. This much black really wasn't necessary... Given that his mother was the fairy of darkness, it wasn't surprising, and it wouldn't be fair to ignore how much Brandon took after her. His father, a man as solid as a brick wall, had clearly influenced him. No matter how rigid Brandon was, Stella could reach him, which only confirmed that the dominant emotions within her had been stifled by her father for years.
Though she wasn't surprised to see that the large bed was placed right in the center of the room, she couldn't help but smile at the fact that her own room was arranged in the same way. At least they had one thing in common—they both preferred comfort when it came to sleep. As she sat on the soft bed, which seemed to contrast with his personality, her smile widened. She could probably sleep the best sleep of her life in a room that reeked of Brandon, but considering she was waiting for an unpredictable man, she tried not to cling too tightly to that fantasy.
With a sigh, she turned her gaze to the door in anticipation; it was exactly eleven, and Brandon should have been arriving by now. As if on cue, footsteps from the corridor approached the room. Stella held her breath, her palms beginning to sweat as she realized she had no idea how he would react. She stood up, then quickly sat down again. She didn't know what to expect, and regret over her decision was slowly creeping in. How would this work? How would she surrender herself to Brandon's arms when she was trembling like this? Would she act like a coward, saying, "Kiss me, I'll just lie here"? As if Brandon would even kiss her! As she grappled with these thoughts, she wondered—would he?
"Where is she going at this hour? Is she trying to drive me crazy?!" Just as she decided not to sit down again, she heard Brandon's voice, and her stomach flipped. Excitement rippled through her, making her whole body tremble and her weakest point—her stomach—churn with nausea. But the sound of his voice sent shivers down her spine, and just as she started to regain control, she heard the voices of Helia and Nabu. "No, no, no..." Frantically, she looked around for a place to hide, but the room was so minimalist that it was clear she wouldn't be able to completely conceal herself anywhere. There wasn't even a closet; the clothes were hung openly on a rack, and since they were at Brandon's height, if she hid behind them, her legs would definitely be visible.
"Calm down, Brandon. Didn't you say you caught her out for some air a few nights ago? She's probably gone out again." Stella's eyes widened in horror as she realized they were talking about her. She silently cursed. She didn't have time to think about when they might have figured it out—the girls wouldn't be able to cover for her anyway, because in the end, the commander would come to her and ask if all the girls were accounted for. Brandon had never taken on that responsibility himself; he always sent Helia to avoid running into Stella. Stella, in turn, had passed the task to Flora, ensuring the two were alone. But tonight, he had decided to come and ask himself!
"Screw the air, what air at this hour?!" Stella paced back and forth, and as she suddenly stopped, she peeked through the crack in the door and saw him standing there, likely fuming with anger. She couldn't help but grin. Even Brandon's worry gave her a silly thrill; the fact that someone who cared so much continued to deny his feelings—especially after confessing them—was infuriating.
"Brandon, let's split up; we'll find her faster." As her grin faded, Stella covered her face with her hands, taking deep breaths, unable to believe that her brief absence was being blown so out of proportion. Anyone would think she had been gone for hours! Her gaze fell on the door, and at the last moment, she had no choice but to press herself against the wall behind the door, praying they wouldn't actually enter the room. The key turned in the lock, and Stella suddenly remembered she was a fairy. A fairy who sparkled at the slightest bit of magic—far too conspicuous. She cursed her luck once more, feeling a strange excitement build inside her.
"Alright. She likes to go down to the garden. One of you check the cafeteria too." As he spoke, Brandon unlocked the door and took his first step inside. Stella watched with bated breath, catching sight of the balcony door partially hidden by the curtains. She barely restrained herself from slapping her forehead in frustration. Of course, the balcony would have been a safer place!
Just as she relaxed at the thought that at least Helia and Nabu wouldn't enter the room, Nabu, predictably, stepped inside. Pressing herself as far back against the wall as she could, she made sure not to touch the door as she moved into a corner. Nabu approached Brandon and placed a hand on his shoulder. Despite his aversion to touch, Brandon couldn't seem to shake off Nabu's genuine friendship. Nabu had been beaten, scolded, punished in various ways, and even threatened with death, but he continued to express his friendship without hesitation. "Did you drive Stella crazy? Could she have run away?" Brandon shot him a sharp look, roughly pushed his hand off his shoulder, and let out an angry breath. "She wouldn't leave her friends behind."
Nabu continued to stare at Brandon, rolling his eyes. "So, you admit you drove her crazy?" The brief exchange of glances between them intensified. Brandon, gradually succumbing to his anxiety, began to transform it into anger. Helia was the first to notice this, swiftly entering the room and grabbing Nabu by the arm. Stella held her breath, cursing Nabu's stupidity once again. As Brandon began to walk toward the bed, she grew even more tense, pressing her hands against the wall at her sides, wishing she could disappear. Brandon sat on the bed, burying his head in his hands, elbows resting on his knees. He took deep breaths, perhaps in an attempt to calm down, or maybe to prevent himself from becoming a murderer of a friend. "We'll let you know if we find anything." As Helia tried to drag Nabu out of the room, Nabu pushed him away and walked toward Brandon. Stop it already! Stella's internal rebellion was muffled by the firm bite on her lip as Nabu sighed and positioned himself in front of Brandon. "Brandon, the injustice you're doing to yourself hasn't just affected you. It's impacted her just as much. She's doing everything she can to get your attention, to avoid losing you. You need to see that."
Stella hesitated for a moment. Although Nabu wasn't always like this, this thoughtful side of him reminded her of the sanctity of their childhood friendship. Nabu had always been the big brother, and Stella the little sister, even now their relationship was as chaotic as that of siblings. Stella was the mischievous little sister, and Nabu was the big brother who was always by her side, doing everything to protect her. As her heart filled with melancholy, her eyes shimmered with tears that were not too harsh. Nabu was the only one trying to shake Brandon, aside from Stella, and that alone made him invaluable. Brandon knew that when it came to Stella, Nabu would switch into protective mode. Though this initially bothered him, Aisha's presence and the deep bond of childhood camaraderie had alleviated that discomfort. In fact, the strange relief of having others to look out for Stella had somehow lightened his burden.
When Brandon lifted his head to look at his friend, he seemed to paint the portrait of someone whose nerves were frayed, who had succumbed to his anger due to his ever-growing anxiety. As he stood up and faced Nabu, he caught a glimmer of something bright—a light? Without understanding what it was, his gaze slid to the back of the door, where he instantly recognized, without the slightest doubt, who owned the bright, voluminous hair that caught his eye, and he froze. His gaze dropped to the floor, his chest rising and falling with relief as he unclenched his fists, closing his eyes briefly. When he opened them again, he forced himself to confront Nabu, trying, despite the effort, to bring back the disheveled Brandon from moments ago. It was difficult because he felt relieved. Knowing where Stella was, knowing she was right next to him, brought a sense of intense lightness, as if a heavy burden had been lifted from his shoulders.
"There's a more pressing issue than discussing this right now." Grabbing Nabu's arm, Brandon quickly dragged him toward the door, with Helia following closely behind. This allowed Stella to take a deep breath, at least she knew she needed to stay quiet. She had just narrowly avoided being seen and felt like her heart was about to burst out of her chest. Nabu opened his mouth to protest, but Brandon silenced him with a single look and pushed him toward the corridor. "Cut it out, Nabu. I'm on edge; don't make me deal with you too." With his brows furrowed, Nabu was about to persist with his stubbornness, but this time, Helia forcefully pulled his friend away from the room and Brandon. "We'll keep in touch!" Brandon nodded at them, watching them impatiently as they turned the corner down the corridor. Stella was nothing short of trouble, and Brandon wasn't modest about this. Stella was the biggest trouble in his life. As his friends turned the corner, Brandon slammed the door shut. Stella jumped at the sound, her wide eyes fixed on him as Brandon turned his back to her, wishing for a moment of calm.
Why couldn't he stay away from her? The fear of reliving exactly what his parents had gone through terrified him enough. Now, realizing he couldn't prevent it, that it was too late, was driving him insane. What would happen? He had been on the brink of losing Stella countless times. Every time, he had preferred death. Now, once again facing this danger... As the long-suppressed voice inside him filled his ears, Brandon hesitated for a moment. Was there any logical way to defy fate? Death would come regardless, wouldn't it? As his chest rose and fell with quick breaths, Stella gazed thoughtfully at the built man standing before her. Was he this angry because he was worried, or... There was no "or"; she was sure her heart would burst as she slowly began to walk toward him. In the pitch-black room, the man dressed in black had the power to tear her heart out. With every step she took toward him, it felt as though she was making an investment in her future.
As she lifted her hand to touch Brandon's arm, in a swift reflex, Brandon grabbed Stella by the arm, turned her around, and forcefully pressed her back against his chest. His arms wrapped tightly around Stella's slender waist, possessively holding her as his face buried itself in her hair, inhaling deeply, finding comfort in her scent. How? Stella, with her mind in a whirl, stared blankly at the wall in front of her, while a voice inside reminded her that she shouldn't have expected such a well-trained and predatory man not to notice someone's presence in his room. Right, how foolish of me... As Brandon's grip tightened, Stella bit her lip, resting her head back against Brandon's shoulder and closing her eyes. She had long been overwhelmed by the mountain of longing she had been trying to climb, only to be met with even steeper peaks. The fact that Brandon, who had been as cold as ice just a few hours ago, was now holding her so tightly was such an exhausting experience that Stella couldn't even muster the strength to protest. She needed to savor the moment because that same inner voice warned her that she would soon be faced with another bout of instability.
And so it happened. As Brandon released his arms and pulled back, instead of relaxing, his muscles tensed further as he glared at Stella with anger. "What are you doing, Stella?" For just a brief moment, her hand itched to slap Brandon. Shaking him and bringing him to his senses was an exhausting experience, but giving up was not in her vocabulary, nor could Stella imagine living without this wounded man. Sighing, she turned her body, which had been left in the void, toward Brandon and slowly began to walk toward him. For a short moment, Brandon could only gaze at her in the thin, short nightgown she was wearing, as if noticing it for the first time. The moonlight that had started to filter in from outside finally found its source and fell upon Stella as if rejoicing in the discovery. Brandon, on the other hand, struggled to an unknown degree to avoid staring at her glowing skin.
As Stella continued to approach him with small steps, Brandon swallowed hard, stepping back. His balance, posture, thoughts, and decisions were all in disarray. Stella had once again turned everything upside down. As her wavy hair fell over her shoulders, back, and the chest that her nightgown struggled to conceal, Brandon swallowed once more. Fortunately, Stella could only see his dark silhouette in the blackness. She couldn't see Brandon's erection, hardening with desire and longing, nor the intense gaze with which he was memorizing the woman he loved standing before him. Stella wasn't afraid as she walked into the darkness. Her body, accustomed to Brandon, was now accepting the darkness as if it belonged to her.
"You can't just act however you want." Even the muscles she used to say this seemed to ache, as if concentrating on anything other than Stella was a sin, a crime. Stella ignored him. She walked slowly without increasing her pace, savoring each moment and moving carefully to keep her body from trembling. "You can do it, but why can't I?" Brandon furrowed his brows, looking at the diminishing distance between them, struggling not to press his hand to the back of his neck. His full lips parted as he took a step back with each of Stella's advances, but when his back fused with the wall, he found neither the strength nor the desire to move away any further. He missed Stella, his every cell ached with hunger for her scent. After everything, Brandon cursed himself for enduring the agony of longing for her after just one taste, but the mountain of fear within him was impossible to ignore.
"Stella." Stella paused when there were only inches left between them and gently pressed her finger against Brandon's dry lips. Brandon, struggling not to close his eyes, looked at her as if he were drowning, his lips slowly parting. As she slid her finger between his lips, inserting it into his mouth, both of them sharply inhaled. Brandon instinctively licked the finger that touched his tongue, closing his lips around it and sucking as Stella took the last two steps towards him. When his firm grip on her waist pulled her into his muscular chest, her breath caught, and their foreheads touched. Stella took deep breaths, her gaze shifting between Brandon's eyes and the lips that were now suckling her finger. The confident, determined Brandon from a few hours ago now stood before her, completely disarmed. It was so easy; she hadn't doubted it for a moment, but Brandon had insisted on retreating, determined to test her limits.
She had entered the room without knowing what to do, dressed in something she knew Brandon couldn't resist, and decided to just go with the flow. Now, she hadn't expected to be this affected when nothing had even happened yet. Pressing her legs together, she barely suppressed a moan that was on the verge of escaping her lips. As Brandon parted his lips, Stella rubbed her finger over them, spreading the moisture from her now-wet finger onto his dry lips. Both of them were caught between the heat of the night and the fear of how they would survive it, but there was no doubt that the side was definitely hell. As Brandon's fingers tightened around Stella's waist, she pressed herself firmly against him with a seductive slowness, grinding her body against his. "Fuck."
In an instant, their positions reversed as Brandon pinned Stella harshly against the wall, placing his free hand on the wall beside her, breathing deeply. "Are you trying to drive me crazy?" Swallowing back her moan, Stella glared at him with frustration. "You're already crazy. You've thrown me completely off balance, now it's my turn." Their foreheads separated for a brief moment before reuniting, and even Brandon could see that he no longer had a shred of control left. His fear was still there, but his hunger for Stella was so overwhelming that whenever they were close, the fear evaporated. Losing her before ever having her, the mere thought of losing her alone could set everything ablaze, taking with it any danger that might arise.
"There are things you don't know. And I can't explain them to you, Stella." Stella shook her head, her patience already fraying at the edges. How could he think it was easy for her? Her feelings had always made her feel guilty, as if she were committing a great crime. Her hunger, desire, and love for her enemy had tormented her conscience. Even though she could see now that Brandon wasn't so different from her, she wasn't going to try to quell her anger with empathy. A mission, alone. It had erased the years of hatred between them. Of course, that mission had brought its own tests, and they had been tried in many ways, but this was all that was left; the rest had come and gone. What was right, what was real, remained. Though they both loved each other madly, only the barriers created by their minds stood in their way. They weren't too weak to overcome them, but they were cowards. Even if they were the best in the universe, fear had not spared them.
"What makes you think I don't know?" Brandon furrowed his brows in response and slowly stepped back, looking at Stella thoughtfully. Stella, with determination in her eyes, began advancing on him, changing tactics. Brandon retreated, and Stella fought not to laugh at the irony of the situation. It used to be the other way around: Brandon would come at her, and Stella would back away. Now, the tables had turned; it was her turn. Realizing he was blocked by the bed, Brandon sat down, and Stella, standing between his legs, gazed down at the man she loved.
"What do you know?" The whispered question prompted Stella to shake her head in response, as she gently stroked Brandon's newly grown stubble with her palm. Brandon struggled not to close his eyes, resisting the urge to look away from her even for a moment. Licking his lips, he gazed at the woman who drew him in with an indescribable pull. Stella chose to remain silent; as she nudged his knee with hers, he brought his legs together, and she slowly climbed onto his lap, placing her knees on either side of him. Not quite sitting in his lap yet, she remained on her knees, minimizing the height difference between them, even managing to be slightly taller than Brandon. Her victories today had added up, but she saved her triumph for later. "You're too late to ask what I know." As she brushed her lips against Brandon's ear, his hands reached for her waist again, pulling her closer and squeezing tightly. She was a gift, to his fingers and to his soul. Stella was a gift. Wherever she went, she had the power to twist his heart and soul around her finger; he could try to resist a little longer, but how much longer could he hold out?
Both of their movements were so slow, and Stella made no effort to hide that she was the one in control. Brandon had recognized his mistake and was paying the price, but it would take a thousand witnesses to call this a punishment. When he suddenly tightened his grip on her waist, making her sit firmly in his lap, Stella had no chance to hold back her moan. She gazed at Brandon with half-closed, amber eyes, struggling to keep herself from trembling. Brandon found himself once again mesmerized by her beauty. "What are you?" He licked his lips, looking at her with hunger, while Stella, feeling the hardness beneath her, couldn't suppress her own trembling. As her lips parted, Brandon moved closer, brushing his nose against hers. "What am I?"
"Heavenly." His lips slid down to Stella's bare shoulder, leaving a deep kiss there. As he inhaled her scent, Stella moved her fingers up into his hair, pressing her chest firmly against Brandon's. There were so many things she wanted to say, words that lingered on the tip of her tongue, but as Brandon's lips wandered across her skin, the only thing she could do was remember to breathe. As her fingers trailed down to the nape of his neck, she pushed her hips forward, pressing herself against his hardness. This time, it was Brandon's moan that filled her ears, his grip on her waist tightening as if he wanted to pull her body into his own. Their bodies clung to each other, nearly merging into one. Stella's fingers tugged at Brandon's shirt, urging him to remove it. Brandon quickly pulled back just long enough to whip off his shirt and toss it aside, then reached for Stella again. But as he moved to embrace her, Stella pressed her hands against his shoulders, staring in surprise at his chest, his arm, and his neck. He had gotten a tattoo, but it wasn't just any tattoo; it was massive, something even a blind eye could notice. Her shock wasn't due to its size, but to what it depicted.
As she swallowed hard, her trembling fingers began to trace the tattoo, exploring it with her eyes, and Brandon watched closely as tears filled her gaze. On his arm, within the detail of a cave, a woman was drawn, rising like a yellow light in the midst of darkness. His arm, entirely in black, portrayed the cave, and though the stars seemed like tiny details within the cave's blackness, they were there. Each star's name was written in golden letters. On his chest, where the sun and the moon converged, there was such a union that the darkness, where it should have been, transformed into an eclipse resembling an S, turning it into a symbolic event. Stella let her eyes travel from Brandon's chest, along his arm, and up to the wave that extended from the nape of his neck down his back. It wasn't like a wave at all; it looked more like hair. Black with fine yellow lines running through it. When their eyes met, Stella couldn't stop her lips from trembling. Brandon, observing her reaction, couldn't help but smile. "May I?" she asked.
There was a brief moment of silence before Brandon slowly nodded, giving her permission. As Stella rose to her knees, Brandon helped her move behind him on the bed. When his fingers brushed against her smooth leg, his eyes closed once more in pleasure. He knew he wouldn't be able to forget the nightgown Stella had chosen anytime soon. As Stella positioned herself behind Brandon, her fingers instinctively covered her mouth. She couldn't hold back her tears any longer as she silently let her fingers roam over the skin of the man she loved. The tattoo depicted a goddess, a warrior goddess. She held a scepter in her hand, raised high, with determination in her eyes, radiating power all around her. The goddess was so vivid that if Stella hadn't possessed her own scepter, it would have been hard to tell what it was. Biting her lip, she traced her fingers over the figure of the woman, whose body was covered in scratches yet possessed an almost magical appearance. Is this really how he sees me?
When Brandon slowly turned to face her, he frowned at the tears streaming down her face. His palms cupped Stella's cheeks, gently wiping away her tears. "Don't cry. I hate it when you cry. And I hate even more how beautiful you look when you cry." Despite herself, Stella laughed at his words, her tear-filled eyes meeting Brandon's. As Brandon pressed his knee into the bed and moved toward Stella, he expected her to retreat, to back away as he did, but Stella had no desire to distance herself from him. She looked at him with anticipation. Their eyes locked, and they both swallowed hard. As Brandon opened his mouth to speak, Stella could no longer resist, her gaze fixed on his lips. She quickly wrapped her arms around his neck and pressed her lips to his. With a groan rising simultaneously from their throats, Brandon swiftly grabbed Stella by the waist, pulling her firmly against him, and kissed her hungrily, his tongue coming into play. Stella's fingers found their way into Brandon's hair, tilting her head to deepen the kiss.
Brandon paused just briefly to catch his breath, but it was so brief that before he could fully recover, his lips were back on Stella's. He was insatiable. His fingers were busy, both pulling Stella's slender waist firmly against him and guiding her head, tilting it from side to side. When Stella's tongue brushed against Brandon's, his already closed eyes shut tighter, and with a muffled growl, he lifted Stella by the waist, moving on his knees across the bed until he slowly laid her down.
As he gazed at her hair sprawled out everywhere, Brandon still couldn't believe his luck, nor could he believe in himself. He had been foolish to think he could stay away from Stella, but his greatest mistake was pulling away from her right after they had come together. When Stella's lips confessed her love for him, Brandon had held himself back from immediately claiming her mouth, but things had taken a different turn. And Stella had become more determined. My gorgeous woman, he thought as his eyes roamed over Stella, who was taking deep breaths. When Brandon grabbed Stella's leg and lifted it to his hip, and she didn't react, he slowly positioned himself between her legs.
"The universe could burn, and I wouldn't care," he whispered, but to Stella, it sounded like a roar, making her shudder. Her heart was pounding wildly, but she was ready. As Brandon planted both hands on the bed and leaned toward Stella, karma struck them with a burst of laughter. The door was being pounded furiously, and Brandon immediately sprang to his feet, reaching for his sword, which flew into his hand almost instantly. Torn between cursing and praying, Stella pushed herself up on her elbows, staring at Brandon in fear. "Get into the bathroom, sunshine," he murmured. It took her a moment longer than usual to comprehend, but she quickly did as he said, heading toward the bathroom door. The fact that there was another place to hide and she hadn't noticed it only added to her frustration. As she passed by Brandon, the door was pounded on once more, making her jump. Even so, Stella was careful not to linger, holding onto Brandon's arm and pressing her lips to it as she whispered for him to be careful. The only thing that bothered Brandon was that the most magical moment of his life had been ruined as he kissed her hair.
"Commander!"
Brandon quickly opened the door, frowning at the uniformed men standing before him. It took him just a second to shift into his commander persona—cold and distant. Hoping Stella wouldn't peek out in curiosity, he stepped closer to the door, making the room less visible. "Someone better be dead." The men exchanged glances, taken aback by his unexpected coldness. Stella watched Brandon's bare back, trying to determine whether his tense muscles were due to her or the strangers at the door. Her eyes drifted back to the tattoo as if she were facing it once more, and she sighed in regret. This night wasn't supposed to end like this; it definitely shouldn't have ended like this.
"May I ask what you're waiting for to stop the riot your men have started?" Brandon didn't hesitate for long. He didn't know what riot they were talking about, but apparently, there was one. Rather than question it and risk aggravating them further with a sarcastic response, Brandon grabbed the jacket hanging on the coat rack and slipped it on, ready to leave. But the uniformed men blocked his way, preventing him from leaving. "What is the meaning of this?"
"It's clear you're unaware of the riot. You should ask about it," the man, who was only slightly older than Brandon, replied. It didn't take much to see that Brandon was already irritated. "You're being insolent to the wrong person. Consider this a warning; I don't care." There was a brief exchange of glances among the men, and the one who seemed more reasonable signaled his companion to back down. "Our intention is to inform you, Commander, because the leader of the opposing side is also missing. We thought it would be best for the leaders to meet to resolve the crisis." This time, Brandon paused for a longer moment. "Explain."
"A riot has been started against the fairies. Specialists are trying to apply the same rituals used on witches to have the fairies expelled from Red Fountain." Stella's eyes widened in disbelief as she stepped out of the bathroom. Her shock quickly turned to fear, and then instantly to anger. What happened next was a matter of seconds. Stella transformed into her fairy form, emitting a bright light as she teleported outside the building. All three men squinted against the light. Brandon cursed aloud, shoving the men aside, and ran as fast as he could toward the riot, likely in the garden. Once again, he found himself grateful for his life, though he didn't forget to curse his fate.