Marylebone, Muggle London.

Nicole bounced her leg as she watched the clock on the wall. She had been waiting in Ben's office for the past ten minutes, picking at her nail polish, while Ben was in a meeting. She was determined to talk to him; she wasn't going to let him brush her off again like he did yesterday.

She looked around his office, staring at the pictures on the wall. She snorted, looking at a picture of a sunflower field. Who the hell designed his office? His desk was neatly organised, papers stacked to one side, and several folders had been placed in the middle of his desk for him to go over. Nicole had an urge to open and read them. Just as she started to lean forward to grab one, the door opened, and Ben walked in.

He was looking over some papers in his hand, dressed in his three-piece suit, and looking absolutely delicious. Nicole watched him, feeling a slight heat rise in her. His hair was slightly disheveled, like he'd been running his hand through it.

He still hadn't noticed her, so Nicole cleared her throat. His head snapped up, and to her, his eyes seemed to soften before they cleared. He was staring at her indifferently.

"Nicole," He said, sighing and throwing his papers on his desk. He loosened his tie "What are you doing here?"

"We need to talk," She said with a frown, already getting irritated by his tone.

"There's nothing to talk about."

"I beg to differ; I think there's loads to talk about. Not that you would know, seeing as how you keep avoiding me."

Ben sighed again and ran a hand through his hair before sitting at his desk, the leather creaking under his weight. "I'm not avoiding you. I told you yesterday I'm busy. With the new hotel opening in Milan soon, there's a lot to get done."

Nicole crossed her arms and leaned back in her chair "That's bullshit and you know it, you could make time before but not now!?"

He pulled his tie completely off, tossed it on the desk, and unbuttoned the first two buttons on his shirt "Just because I made time before doesn't mean it wasn't without difficulty."

"You mean you had a reason before but not now?" Nicole scowled at him, feeling hurt by his words.

"I didn't say that, Nicole."

"You didn't have to!" She snapped. "I'm sorry if I took up your precious time!"

"For God's sake! That's not what I said." Came his exasperated reply "You always do this!"

"Do what!?"

"Assume!" He said, giving her a hard look and gesturing between them, "We can never have a proper conversation. You never listen! This, this is why I said there's nothing to talk about. How can we talk when the other person keeps jumping to their own conclusions?"

Nicole bit back her retort as Ben let out a frustrated noise.

"I told you that we'd talk when we both calmed down, but you keep forcing the issue! Do you even know why I'm upset?" He asked her, looking at her expectedly.

And when she didn't say anything quick enough, he nodded "See, you don't even know why." He sighed heavily, one filled with exhaustion. There were dark circles under his eyes. Clearly, he wasn't sleeping well.

"That's not-"

"Just tell me what you want, Nikky."

Nicole bit her lip, she could tell Ben was just humouring her and while it pissed her off she could see the exhaustion that lined his form. "I just wanted to apologise."

Ben nodded but didn't look at her. Instead, he shuffled his papers around "Okay, anything else?"

"No, but I want to-" Nicole started to say, but Ben cut her off.

"If that's all, then I'll have to ask you to leave. I have a lot of work to do." He then looked at the clock on the wall "And you need to return to work."

"Ben-"

"Goodbye, Ms Jones."

He didn't look at her as she sat there, gobsmacked. He'd never dismissed her so coldly before, not even when they first met. She could feel tears pressing behind her eyes, but she didn't want to give him the satisfaction of seeing them. Pursing her lips she stood up and waited a few seconds to see if he would say anything and when he didn't she scoffed, "You're an utter arsehole." and then she left his office and let the door slam behind her.

Nicole stands there for a moment, fuming but also hurt. Ben had never treated her so coldly before, and the sting of it sank in deep, like she'd been plunged into freezing water.

She turned back towards the door and reached for the handle before stopping. She glared at it, eyes slightly wet before turning around and rushing down the hall towards the lift.

If that's how he wanted to act, like she didn't matter, then fine, he didn't matter to her either. She didn't need him. She'd show him that she didn't need him.

She didn't.

Right?

Several hours later, Nicole returned home from work; she went straight to her room, not even bothering to check in on Severa, whose door was slightly ajar. She pulled off her work clothes and started digging through her wardrobe, tossing clothing she didn't like behind her. With a grin, she pulled out her fishnet stockings and black leather skirt. She tossed them onto her bed, went to her dresser, and pulled out her bra.

Nicole changed quickly. The base of the bra was black, but the yellow studs glinted like molten gold, bold and eye-catching against her skin. She tugged on a pair of black lace panties, then slid each stocking up her legs with care, the fishnet catching just slightly on her fingers.

Next came the leather skirt—tight, high-waisted, and unapologetically short. It hugged her hips and stopped mid-thigh, the thigh-high slit teasing just enough to make the whole look feel dangerous. With the bra and fishnets, it was sexy—loudly, deliberately so.

She returned to her wardrobe for the jacket. Black leather, studded, with fringe that danced at her arms when she moved. Once she zipped it up, she fastened the matching belt around her waist, cinching it tight and letting the gold hardware gleam in the light and accentuate her waist. It was a look that didn't ask for attention—it demanded it.

Nicole looked at herself in the mirror, a smirk playing on her lips. Now, all that was left was her hair and makeup. She returned to her dresser, the one with the mirror attached, cluttered with all her products scattered across the top. She got to work quickly, and twenty minutes later, she dropped her lipstick onto the dresser, took a step back, and looked at herself.

Her hair was a masterpiece of chaos and volume, teased high and wide like a lion's mane—pure '80s rebellion. Thick, wild waves framed her face, and her bangs were curled just enough to sweep across her forehead without softening the look. It was drama in every strand.

Her makeup was just as bold: heavy black liner winged out like daggers at the corners of her eyes, smoky shadow that deepened the look with sultry defiance, and lashes thick enough to cast shadows. Her lips were painted a fierce, glossy red—dangerous, daring, and utterly unforgettable. All paired with her gold necklace and hooped earrings.

She was dripping sex appeal. She felt powerful. She felt dangerous.

She knew she'd have every man eating out of the palm of her hand.

The image of Ben crossed her mind, how he would love her outfit, how his hands would be all over her, making sure every man knew she was his. She felt a ping of sadness, loneliness and hurt at the thought. She brushed the thought away; she wasn't going to think about him for the rest of the night!

The last thing was her shoes. Nicole looked through her small collection and found the perfect pair. They would pull the whole outfit together.

She stepped into a pair of black stiletto boots that rose to her knees, the leather hugging her legs like a second skin. Gold studs ran up the back seam, glinting in the light with every shift of her weight. The heels were needle-thin and unapologetically high; each click of her heels on the floor held a warning to the other girls that she'd arrived.

Nicole looked at herself in the mirror again; she turned every which way, completely satisfied with her look.

She looked like a sin you'd beg forgiveness for—after the second round.

And tonight? She wasn't looking for redemption.

She didn't bother with a purse or even cash. The club she was going to knew her well enough that she wouldn't need ID, and she had no intention of buying herself any drinks.

Full of confidence, Nicole left her room. And just as she left hers, Severa stepped out hers. The girl across from her didn't say anything, only raised a brow at her. Nicole could feel her cheeks heating up. She cleared her throat "I'm going out," she told Severa.

"I can see that," Severa said, amusement dripping from her and a knowing look in her eyes.

Nicole hated how Vera could make her feel like she was being foolish, that she knew exactly why Nicole was dressed up looking like sex with legs. It always made Nicole second-guess herself. Was she being silly?

Nicole gave herself a mental headshake. "Don't wait up for me!" She said, blowing Severa a kiss and left, not waiting for a reply.

It didn't take her long to reach the club. As she approached the door, she saw Matt, the club's bouncer, standing there, letting people in. All delicious six foot three of him and full of muscles that Nicole would love to get her hands on. She gave him a grin as she walked past the line, ignoring all the heads that turned and stared at her, some in awe, others in annoyance for her skipping.

"Matthew!" She called out.

Said man rolled his eyes "Nikky, love, haven't seen you around these parts in a while. Come to break some hearts tonight?" he said teasingly.

Nicole grinned wider at him and winked "Always, Matt. Still won't let me break yours?"

Matt gave her a wolfish grin "Not tonight, Nikky, maybe next time." He said, winking making her giggle as he opened the door for her.

She sighed as if she was heartbroken "You're breaking my heart."

"You'll survive and forget all about me in ten minutes. Now shoo." Matt shooed her in good-naturedly.

"Ten!? You're worth at least fifteen!"

"I'm honoured," He snorted, shaking his head as she walked in, blowing him a kiss teasingly.

The bass hit her first. Low, relentless, vibrating up through the soles of her heels like a living thing. Blue Monday was already mid-spin, the synth slicing through the thick air like static.

The club was a cavern of light and shadow, pulsing with colour and movement. Fog machines hissed along the edges, blurring outlines into silhouettes. Fluorescent lights stuttered over the crowd in flashes–fishnets, leather, bare shoulders, and glittering studs briefly illuminated with every flash. People moved in sync with the beat, hips grinding, arms raised, heads thrown back, lost completely in the moment.

Nicole stood at the threshold for just a moment, letting it all sink in: the crush of bodies, the sting of cigarette smoke, the way the strobes lit her up. Then she moved.

Every step she took was deliberate, full of confidence. Her stiletto's clicked against the floor, lost beneath the throb of the music but still sharp enough to be felt. Eyes turned, drawn to her like gravity, lips parted, conversations halted, she didn't have to look at anyone, she knew.

This is what she thrived on.

Oh yes, tonight was going to be a good one. She didn't come to disappear and mope.

No, tonight.

She came to be unforgettable.

Nicole caught the eye of several men; she may have even winked at a few of them as she made her way to the dance floor. And just as she hit the dance floor Dancing with Myself came on. She danced with different people, moving her hips and getting lost in the song. Soon, someone came up behind her while she was dancing alone; a glance showed her that he was rather handsome. He was no Micheal Hutchence or John Travolta, but he was good enough to make her eyes darken.

His hands were on her waist, her back flushed against his chest, and they danced to several songs before she guided him off the dance floor. She pulled him over the bar; she leaned into his ear and asked, "Buy me a drink?"

He grinned and nodded before waving the bartender down.

"I'm Eric!" He shouted over the music, leaning down towards her.

Her lips pulled up into a seductive grin. "I'm Nicole!" she shouted back, swaying slightly to the music. She grabbed her drink as it was set down in front of them.

Several drinks and many songs later, found Nicole pushed up against the girl's restroom door. The bass of Sweet Dreams booming through the speakers.

His hands were warm on the skin of her legs, the chemistry between them electrifying. His breath mingles with hers, ragged and quick, as their lips meet again, a little more urgently this time. Nicole could feel the heat of his body pressed against hers, their closeness almost dizzying. Eric's hand slips behind her neck, pulling her deeper into the kiss, and she responds without hesitation, her pulse racing. She lets out a noise, a cross between a gasp and a moan, as he lifts one of her legs and presses in closer.

The song plays on in the background, the lyrics hauntingly distant: "Sweet dreams are made of this…"

Nicole's fingers trail along his chest, feeling the fast beat of his heart that matches the rhythm of her own.

He lets go of his hold on the back of her neck, his hand trails down to her other leg and in one move that makes her gasp and break the kiss, he lifts her up, forcing her to wrap her legs around him. He pulls her flush against him, one hand holding her up and the other roaming her body. She feels a sharp rush of desire as he kisses her neck.

The song shifts, and the music wraps around them: "Who am I to disagree?" the singer teases, almost daring her to give in to what's already happening between them.

Her head hits the wall as she lets out a moan. He kisses his way back to her lips, and their eyes meet briefly in the dim light. His gaze is intense, and she stares back, her eyes half-lidded. The unspoken question hangs in the air. Just the barest nod from her and his lips find hers again, and the rest of the world falls away completely.

Severa's POV

A loud noise woke her; she sat up quickly, hand finding her wand on her bedside table. She expanded her senses out that told her that her wards were still in place. Severa got out of bed and made her way to the living room where the noise was coming from. Wand pointed in front of her, and silent "Lumos" was cast, illuminating light from the tip, and the startled face of Nicole in front of her.

With a scowl, Severa smacked the lights on and, with a wave of her wand, extinguished the spell.

"Nicole." She said irritatedly; the girl was obviously drunk and–

"Vera!" Nicole shouted in a half whisper, a failed attempt to be quiet. She moved towards Severa and threw her arms around the black haired girl.

–And smelling like sex.

Sighing, Severa held the girl up as Nicole blubbered against her. Severa couldn't understand a word the girl was saying as she guided Nicole to her room. She kicked Nicole's door open fully, and with a wave of her wand, the lamp turned on.

She dragged Nicole to her bed and dropped her on it. The girl in question laid on her back. She leaned up on her elbows and looked at Severa, who was trying to pull off her stiletto boots.

"-It was such good sex too, Vera!" Nicole wailed, hiccuping a little, "B-But afterwards all I could t-think about was B-B-Ben!" Big fat tears streamed down her face.

Severa hummed as she managed to pull both heels off and tossed them to the floor. She helped Nicole sit up as she unzipped the girl's jacket.

"That s-stupid head, I hate him!"

"Yes, yes, I know," Severa agreed, knowing it wasn't true.

Once the jacket was off, she pushed the girl down and covered her up with a throw she had at the end of her bed.

"Go to sleep."

"B-But-"

"Quiet. Sleep." Severa said sharply, glaring at Nicole.

Wisely, Nicole closed her mouth and nodded, sniffing.

As Severa turned to leave the room, Nicole whispered, "Love you, Vera."

Severa paused and didn't turn around; she was unsure what to say or do. It was quiet for a moment, and then much more softly, Severa said, "Go to sleep, Nikky." And with a flick of her wand, the light went out, and the door clicked shut.