Chapter 8: Stop Treating Me Like Air
404 Words
The final bell rang, and the classroom exploded into chatter and movement. Isolde packed her bag quietly. Just as she stood up, Lucien was already blocking her path.
“We need to talk.”
His voice was calm, but there was a quiet intensity behind it.
Isolde frowned, trying to step around him. “I don’t think there’s anything left to talk about.”
“You always do this.”
Lucien stared at her, his tone low but pressing. “You treat me like I don’t exist. Like I’m nothing.”
She paused and looked him in the eye. “What else am I supposed to do? You’re hot and cold. One second you’re protective, the next you’re overbearing. Why would I want to be around that?”
Lucien was quiet for a moment, then suddenly leaned in closer, his gaze unwavering.
“Because I care about you.”
Isolde blinked, surprised by the raw honesty in his voice.
“I see the way you avoid me,” he went on. “You walk into class and look anywhere but at me. You smile at Elysium. You respond to Riven. But me? You pretend I’m invisible.”
She glanced away, her voice low. “That’s because I don’t know what you want.”
Lucien gave a small, bitter laugh. “Neither do I, honestly. But when you smile at someone else, it pisses me off. And when you ignore me, it pisses me off even more.”
Isolde raised an eyebrow. “Are you… jealous?”
He didn’t answer. But he didn’t have to. The silence said enough.
The hallway buzzed with footsteps and noise, but between them, there was only silence—heavy, electric silence.
“Lucien,” she said softly. “You can’t just barge into someone’s life like a moody Alpha and expect them to accommodate you.”
Lucien looked down at her, voice rough but sincere. “Then tell me what I need to do—so you’ll finally see me.”
She hesitated, then spoke.
“Start by acting like a normal person. Not some emotionally unstable vampire.”
He let out a real laugh this time, short and slightly self-deprecating.
“I’ll try.”
She didn’t reply. Just turned and walked away.
Lucien stood there, watching her go.
But this time, she didn’t speed up.
She knew he was watching.
And for the first time, she didn’t run.
- Writer
