Chapter Eight: Burn It All Down
684 Words
The morning after didn’t feel like the world ending.
It felt like the beginning.
Soft light spilled across Luca’s apartment through half-closed blinds. Emery stirred beneath his sheets, wrapped in warmth and something deeper than she could name.
Her leg was tangled with his. His arm draped over her waist, anchoring her. And for the first time since she set foot on Halston’s perfect, unforgiving campus, she didn’t feel like she was surviving.
She felt like she was safe.
Luca’s breath brushed the back of her neck. When she shifted slightly, his hand slid up her bare side, slow and warm, like he knew every curve now and had memorized them in the dark.
“You’re awake,” he murmured, voice husky from sleep.
“I’ve been awake,” she whispered. “Didn’t want to move.”
“Then don’t.”
He pulled her closer, pressing his chest to her back, his lips grazing her shoulder. His fingers traced the line of her waist, like he was savoring the feel of her—all soft skin, sleepy sighs, and the kind of quiet intimacy he’d never let himself want before.
“You okay?” he asked softly.
She turned her head, meeting his eyes. “I’m more than okay.”
He smiled. Not the cocky one she was used to seeing in public—but the rare one. The real one. The one that said you undid me and I’ll never recover.
“I keep thinking last night was a dream,” she said.
“It wasn’t.” His voice dropped. “But if it was… I’d never want to wake up.”
She rolled onto her back, looking up at him. “You’re dangerous when you say things like that.”
Luca leaned down, kissing her gently, slow and unhurried—like he had nowhere else to be, like she was the only thing in the world worth touching.
“You make it impossible not to say them,” he murmured against her lips.
He kissed her again—deeper this time, with more heat, more hunger.
She arched into him, fingers threading into his hair, dragging him closer.
His hand slipped under the sheet, down the curve of her hip, his voice a low growl against her skin. “Tell me to stop.”
“I won’t,” she whispered.
“I need you to say it.”
She opened her eyes, steady and sure. “I want this.”
That was all he needed.
The kiss turned fiery, their bodies fitting together like a secret they’d kept too long. Every touch was a promise. Every gasp, a confession. He moved over her like he worshipped her, and maybe he did—because Emery had cracked something open in him he didn’t know how to close.
And Emery… Emery had never been touched like this. Like she mattered. Like she was cherished.
She didn’t know where her body ended and his began. All she knew was the feeling of his mouth on her skin, his voice rasping her name like a prayer, the burn of her heart breaking open for someone she wasn’t supposed to fall for—but already had.
After, they stayed wrapped up in each other, hearts still racing, silence filled only by breaths and soft laughter.
“You know what this means, right?” she said, tracing the raven tattoo on his shoulder with the tip of her finger.
“That I’m yours now?”
She smiled. “That I’m yours too.”
He kissed her forehead.
“Then I’ll protect you like you are. No matter what happens next.”
⸻
And next… happens faster than either of them expect.
Because while they were wrapped in warmth and promises, the world outside was shifting.
Brielle’s name was in the administration’s hands.
The athletic department had an emergency meeting scheduled.
And someone had just left a manila envelope on Emery’s dorm room door.
Inside: a photo of Luca. A girl Emery had never seen. A date. A timestamp.
And one word scrawled in red ink:
“Truth.”
- Writer
