Aria Amethyst’s Point of View
I felt like a porcelain statue trapped between two storms.
Blue sat on my right—leaning back, jaw tight, his fingers spinning the stem of his glass like he was trying not to explode.
Thadeus sat on my left—calm, unreadable, quietly sipping his drink as if the world didn’t shake whenever Blue glared in his direction.
And me?
I sat in the middle, stiff as a board, pretending to enjoy the music while praying the ground would swallow me whole.
Even everyone at the table noticed the tension. Ma’am Callista, Ma’am Tara, and Ma’am Tatiana kept sending me worried glances, as if they were silently saying:
Poor Aria. Caught between two idiots with no self-awareness.
And honestly? They were absolutely right.
I released the quietest sigh of my life—one even a dog
