POV: Alex Arthin
The sound of Avery’s name froze my pulse.
For a second, I thought I misheard her, that it couldn’t possibly be her voice coming through Seraphina’s phone. But it was.
Soft. Familiar. A voice I shouldn’t have recognized that easily.
I keep my eyes on Seraphina while she answers.
Every word that leaves Avery’s mouth feels like a knife I have to smile through.
When Seraphina says “With Alex,” I almost flinch.
Avery goes quiet, I can hear it even from where I sit.
That silence isn’t confusion. It’s recognition.
It’s guilt.
And suddenly, everything from two hours ago crashes back into me.
It had started like any other weekend.
Avery had texted first, like she always did.
“You free?”
I was.
She knew I would be.
Weekends were our unspoken ritual, Seraphina went home to her family’s mansion, and Avery stayed behind.
Two girls, roommates, best friends.
Only one of them knew what really happened when the other left.
I told myself it wasn’t serious. Just a distraction. Something easy.
Avery didn’t ask for more; she knew what this was, something dangerous, secret, temporary.
But today felt different.
When I showed up at her dorm, she was sitting on her bed in a cute baggy shirt, legs crossed, hair messy like she’d been waiting for me longer than she’d admit.
Her perfume filled the room, that soft jasmine and vanilla blend that somehow always stayed on my clothes no matter how many showers I took.
“You’re late,” she teased.
“I had class.”
“You always have an excuse.”
“Do I need one?”
She smiled then, that lazy, knowing smile that said she liked the game as much as I did.
But when I kissed her, something in it felt different.
Needier. Almost frantic.
Like we both knew this shouldn’t last.
“Alex,” she whispered, fingers gripping my shirt. “You’re thinking about her again.”
I froze. “Who?”
Her laugh was soft but sharp. “Seraphina.”
I looked away. “Don’t start.”
“You’re not even denying it.”
“I’m here with you, aren’t I?”
“Yeah,” she said quietly. “But not really.”
Her eyes searched mine, daring me to lie. I didn’t.
Because maybe she was right. Maybe some part of me had been thinking about Seraphina, the way she looked when she laughed, how she always smelled like the sea, how her voice shook when she tried to hide sadness.
Avery pushed me back onto the bed, kissing me hard enough to erase the thought.
For a while, it worked.
Until my phone buzzed.
Seraphina’s name flashed across the screen.
“Alex. Come get me. Please.”
My chest tightened.
She never texted like that. Never begged.
Avery leaned over, reading the message before I could move.
“She needs you,” she said, eyes narrowing.
I sat up. “Something’s wrong.”
“Something’s always wrong with her.”
I ignored her tone and grabbed my jacket. “I’ll be back.”
Avery stood too quickly. “Don’t go running every time she calls.”
But I was already at the door.
“Alex!” she called after me. “Don’t pretend you’re her savior. You’re not!”
Her voice followed me down the hall, that sharp, trembling edge that sounded a lot like jealousy.
When I reached my car, my reflection in the window looked like someone else, tired, reckless, caught between two versions of himself.
By the time I reached Seraphina’s house, I was still wearing the same shirt Avery had pulled over my head. Her perfume lingered, clinging like a brand.
I didn’t notice the streak of blood on my wrist until later, from the broken glass Avery knocked off the nightstand when she tried to stop me from leaving.
“Stay,” she’d said, voice cracking. “You’ll just hurt her too.”
But I couldn’t. Not when Seraphina’s message was still glowing on my screen.
Now, sitting here, watching Seraphina talk to the same girl who was in bed with me hours ago, my stomach turns.
Avery sounds calm, too calm.
Seraphina’s smiling, trying to sound normal. She doesn’t notice the silence bleeding through the line.
When she says goodnight and hangs up, I can finally breathe again.
Barely.
“Everything okay?” I ask, forcing my voice steady.
She nods. “Yeah. She was just worried.”
“Right.”
I can’t look at her for too long, not without the guilt pressing in, choking the air between us.
If she knew what I’d done, if she even suspected…
No.
She can’t find out.
I tell myself it doesn’t matter. That Avery means nothing. That I’m just helping Seraphina forget whatever nightmare she ran from tonight.
But it’s a lie, and I know it.
She looks at me with those eyes that don’t belong in this world, eyes that still believed in people.
And for a second, I want to confess everything.
To tell her that I’m not the good guy she thinks I am. That sometimes I don’t even know who I am when I’m with her.
Instead, I say the only thing that feels safe.
“Come here.”
She hesitates, then moves closer, her head resting against my shoulder. Her heartbeat steadies under my hand.
I brush a strand of hair from her face and whisper, “You’re safe now.”
The words feel poisonous in my mouth.
She falls asleep minutes later, curled against me like I’m something worth trusting.
I watch her breathing, listen to the quiet hum of the rain, and think about Avery, about her perfume, her call, the blood on my wrist, the way she said don’t go.
I should feel nothing.
Instead, I feel everything, shame, confusion, something dangerously close to care.
My phone buzzes against the table.
The screen lights up: Avery again.
One new message.
Avery: You left a mark. Call me when she’s asleep.
My stomach twists.
I lock the screen and toss the phone face-down, the same way I did with Seraphina’s before.
I stare at the ceiling, the weight of both of them pressing against me, one beside me, one waiting for me to come back.
The night is too quiet.
Too full of things I can’t undo.
The phone buzzes again. This time, it’s a photo. I froze, my thumb trembling above the screen, pulse slamming hard against my throat.