The Pact

1047 Words
Sofia The hallway outside the ballroom smelled of waxed floors and cold marble. The music and chatter dimmed as Theo and I stepped farther from the noise, our fingers still loosely entwined. We didn't speak at first, just strolled beneath the soft glow of antique sconces that lined the stone corridor. I didn't know why I was still holding his hand. I liked the way his presence steadied me. Or perhaps I wasn't ready to let go just yet. "Did you see their faces?" I asked finally, breaking the silence. Theo smirked. "Althea looked like she bit into a lemon. Leo… well, he looked like he just realized the game wasn't his anymore." I smiled to myself. "Good." We stopped near a small alcove where an arched window framed the moon like a painting. The cool air outside slipped through the cracks, brushing against my skin. "Are you sure about this?" I asked, finally facing him. "This pact. The show. All of it." "No," he replied without hesitation. "But that's what makes it fun." Theo She didn't know how intoxicating she looked in this light, not with the moon behind her and defiance on her lips. I wasn't sure when I had decided to play along—but now that I was in, I was all in. "I really do live for chaos," I added, smirking. She rolled her eyes but agreed. Truth was, I hadn't expected her to say yes. Not to this idea. Not to me. But she was steady and sharp, facing me with that quiet fire in her eyes. "We looked convincing tonight," I said, softer than I meant. She looked up at me, curious. "Convincing enough?" I nodded slowly. "Too much. That's the dangerous part." "We'll need rules," I added, before I could say something reckless. "You sound like a man who's done this before," she replied. If only she knew. I'd danced with lies my entire life. This wouldn't be my first time building something out of smoke and mirrors. Relationships built on games were easier—until they weren't. "Let's just say I like structure when diving into madness." We went through the rules. No real feelings. Support the lie. Absolute honesty with each other. I watched her as she agreed—hesitant at first, then confident. Something shifted in her then. She wasn't just reacting anymore. She was choosing this. "You sure you want to fake being in love with someone like me?" she asked. I stepped closer, lowering my voice. "You're not someone like anything. You're just... you. And that terrifies them." I didn't tell her how much it was starting to terrify me, too. Sofia My breath caught. Whether from the words or the proximity, I couldn't tell. "What happens when people ask questions?" I asked. "We answer with smiles and half-truths." "And if they push harder?" "Then we push back. Together." I reached for his hand again. "Alright. Let's do it." His grip tightened slightly. Warm. Confident. "Then it's a pact," I said. "A beautiful, calculated, and probably ill-advised pact," he added. We both laughed. The moment our hands met, that silver shimmer from before flickered again. Just for a second. Just enough to make me blink. Was I imagining it? Theo seemed unfazed. Theo No, I felt it too. That shimmer again—the energy that pulsed between our joined hands like static and something else. I didn't say anything. If she didn't feel it, I wouldn't be the first to sound crazy. Something about her touch was familiar, though I was certain we'd never touched like that before. It stirred something primal. Something ancient. I pulled out my phone and typed quickly. "Updating my relationship status. Social media first, gossip second." Her reaction was pure disbelief. Her shock was genuine, and honestly, it was adorable. I showed her the screen. A photo of us on the balcony, arms linked, bathed in golden light. Someone had already posted it. Caption: Scandal of the season? Theo Laurent and Sofia Montenegro—newest power couple or perfectly timed distraction? I smirked and added a reply: Confirmed. We don't fake anything—except smiles. Hit post. She gasped. "You are unbelievable." "And now so are we." A moment passed. I could tell she was already questioning the reality of this. Honestly? So was I. But I was used to pretending. Pretending to be the golden son. The one who followed the rules. The one who still didn't ache for things he couldn't have. But this girl—this Sofia—she didn't ask me to be any of those things. She only asked me to be honest. I wasn't sure what to do with that. Sofia My phone buzzed nonstop. Messages, notifications, tag alerts. The ballroom crowd had turned into a gossip minefield. He tucked his phone away and stepped forward, brushing a lock of my hair behind my ear. His touch was too gentle. Too... aware. "What are you doing?" I whispered. "Selling it." Then he leaned in. I expected a kiss, and my heart braced for it. But instead, his lips landed on my cheek—slow, deliberate, lingering just long enough to send my pulse into chaos. Heat flared in my chest. He pulled back and looked into my eyes. "Too convincing?" I didn't answer. Because in that moment, I wasn't sure what was real and what wasn't. Theo I didn't want to stop touching her. That scared me more than I'd admit. Her skin was warm under my lips. Softer than I expected. And for the briefest second, I thought about what it would feel like to kiss her. Footsteps echoed behind us, soft and calculated. I glanced toward the shadows. Someone had been watching. A flicker of movement. A whiff of something unfamiliar. Not just a waiter or another nosy guest. Something... else. I stepped in front of Sofia instinctively. Sofia I stiffened. Theo's body shifted slightly in front of me, protective. In the mirrored panel across the corridor, I saw a flicker of silver again—around our joined hands. I blinked. Was it just light? Or was it something else? A silhouette lingers just beyond the corner, watching with more than curiosity—someone who knows that shimmer isn't just light.
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