She's Innocent
991 Words
AN: A big thank you to SmileySilverado for the vote on Chapter Two 🤍
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Elsa balanced her smoothie in one hand and her pancake drizzled with honey in the other. She had reheated it quickly in the microwave, but she was running late.
So she did what she often did.
She ate while driving.
The twenty-four-mile journey from Ruislip Lido to New Cross Road stretched before her — nearly an hour and forty minutes of highway and thoughts.
Her black 2021 BMW purred smoothly beneath her as Whitney Houston’s *I Will Always Love You* filled the car.
Elsa sang softly along, fingers tightening around the steering wheel as she imagined standing in front of Eros, singing those words to him.
“And I… will always love you…”
Her chest fluttered.
She had always loved him.
From afar.
Elsa was a hopeless romantic — the dangerous kind. The kind who believed in destiny and soul ties and handwritten love letters.
She spent hours reading stories on Inkitt, w*****d, and w******l. She believed in grand confessions and slow burns.
She had already chosen where she would be engaged — Verona, Italy, beneath Juliet’s monument. Her honeymoon? Paris. The city of love.
She had planned her life carefully.
Boyfriend by nineteen.
She was already nineteen.
Still alone.
The boy she loved barely knew she existed.
She had admired him from a distance for two and a half years. She knew it wasn’t unusual in Europe or America for a girl to confess her feelings first. But every time she imagined walking up to him, her courage dissolved.
She wasn’t scared of rejection.
She was scared of being seen.
Today, she only wanted one thing.
Eros as her Valentine.
Just one day.
One check mark on her “to experience” list.
One memory to treasure.
---
Hult International Business School
She parked neatly in the student lot. No reserved spot. No flashy display of wealth.
“What’s the use of a reserved space?” she murmured. “Rich or poor… we all park the same way.”
She grabbed her red backpack — always a backpack, never a designer handbag. If she didn’t tell you she was an Emeritus, you would never guess.
That was how she liked it.
Invisible.
In the cafeteria, she chose a quiet table in the corner and continued eating her breakfast.
Around her, couples laughed. Friends exchanged gifts. Red balloons floated near the ceiling.
She watched.
Observed.
Absorbed.
She didn’t have friends. Not because she couldn’t — but because she refused shallow connections. She didn’t want someone befriending her for her last name.
She wanted someone who would choose her.
Just Elsa.
Her books, her phone, her chocolate bars, her late-night ice cream tubs — those had been her companions.
Until she found something real.
If she ever did.
---
Eros’ Mansion
Luciano took a bite of his chicken sandwich, eyeing Eros carefully.
“So,” he said slowly, “who is the invisible girl?”
Eros sipped his espresso without looking at him.
“Don’t you know?”
Luciano frowned. “How would I know? Do I look like a journalist? Do I walk around Hult collecting data on invisible students?”
Eros leaned back lazily, studying his friend with quiet amusement.
“You’re slow sometimes,” he said flatly. “Why did I choose you as my best friend again?”
Luciano placed a hand dramatically on his chest. “Because you were madly in love with me at five years old. You begged your mother to arrange our marriage. Your father Dimitris almost fainted.”
Eros’ jaw tightened faintly at the mention of his father.
Athena laughed at the time. She had been terrified her son might grow up differently. How naĂŻve she had been.
Children grow.
Boys change.
Sometimes too much.
Luciano’s teasing faded when he noticed the shift in Eros’ expression.
“You’re the heir now… since he left—”
“Don’t,” Eros cut in sharply.
The air shifted.
Luciano immediately regretted it.
There were certain topics that carved through Eros like a blade.
He masked it well.
But not from him.
Luciano cleared his throat. “You didn’t answer me.”
Eros stood, walking toward the staircase.
“It’s Elsa,” he said casually.
Luciano froze.
“Elsa who?”
Eros glanced back, storm-grey eyes unreadable.
“Elsa Emeritus.”
The door to his room shut firmly.
Not slammed.
Controlled.
Luciano stood there for a moment, unease crawling up his spine.
“Don’t you dare,” he muttered under his breath. “She’s innocent.”
He knew Eros.
Knew the way women gravitated toward him.
Knew how easily he dismantled hearts.
Elsa was quiet. Low-key. Off social media. She skipped welcome parties. She didn’t chase attention.
She was almost… untouched by their world.
Luciano rubbed his forehead.
“Please,” he whispered to the gods of Greece, half joking, half serious, “don’t let her fall for him.”
Because Eros Kratos didn’t pursue without purpose.
And he never played a game he didn’t intend to win.
---
Hult Cafeteria
Elsa was halfway through her smoothie when she felt it.
That subtle shift in atmosphere.
The kind that makes your skin tighten before your eyes confirm anything.
Her fork paused mid-air.
From the corner of her eye, she saw polished black shoes stop near her table.
Her heart stumbled.
Slowly, she lifted her gaze.
Storm-grey eyes met ocean-blue.
Eros Kratos.
Standing in front of her.
---
Author's Note
Remember that everything in this book is fictional, names, characters etc.
Hult International Business school was my dream school. I will attend one day.
Please don't copy any part of this book for selfish reasons.
It took me years to write this.
Don't just read this book for entertainment.
Learn.
Happy Valentine's Day
Xoxoxo
Bella Angel Douglas
- Writer
