Unraveling
911 Words
Chapter 7: Unraveling
Lily didn’t sleep that night.
Nate’s words echoed in her ears long after she left his room.
"You’re mine."
She had always thought of Nate as gentle. Sweet. The kind of guy you were supposed to feel safe around. But the look in his eyes tonight had shaken her to the core. It wasn’t love. It wasn’t even jealousy. It was possession—like she was a thing, a prize that had been tainted.
And worse, a part of her didn’t feel entirely innocent.
Because the truth?
She had thought about Blake too much.
Dreamed about him.
Fantasized.
Even if she hated herself for it.
Even if Blake made her feel small and stupid and exposed.
Especially then.
The next morning, she stood under the shower until her skin burned, scrubbing away the shame clinging to her body. When she finally stepped out, the fog on the mirror had begun to clear. She looked at her reflection—wet hair dripping down her back, circles under her eyes, a raw tightness to her mouth.
She was unraveling.
And it was getting harder to pretend otherwise.
In the hallway outside her dorm, a small envelope lay folded neatly against her door. No name. No stamp.
Just a single sheet of paper inside.
You look better when you’re angry.
Her breath caught.
The handwriting was sharp, confident. Masculine.
No signature. No doubt.
Blake.
Of course it was him.
Heat surged through her—equal parts fury and something far more dangerous.
She crumpled the note, shoved it in her bag, and marched across campus with fire in her veins.
He was outside the library, leaning against the railing, his ever-present leather jacket catching the morning light. He looked like sin itself—messy dark hair, cigarette between his fingers, one boot crossed over the other. He was talking to someone, laughing, until he looked up and saw her.
And that smirk appeared.
Like he knew.
Lily didn’t stop. She marched up to him and shoved the crumpled note into his chest.
“What the hell is wrong with you?”
Blake blinked, feigning innocence. “Morning, sweetheart.”
“Don’t call me that.” She shoved him again, and he dropped the cigarette, letting it crush beneath his heel.
“You’re pissed,” he said, clearly amused. “I was right. Angry suits you.”
“I’m not your toy.”
His eyes darkened. “Did I say you were?”
“You don’t have to. You keep following me, cornering me, sending me crap like this—”
“You came to me this time,” he said, low and steady. “Didn’t you?”
Her breath hitched. His nearness was suffocating. He smelled like smoke and spice and danger, and she hated how much her body reacted to it.
“I came to tell you to stay the hell away from me.”
“Why?”
“Because—because I have a boyfriend.”
“Do you?” Blake leaned in, his voice dropping. “Then why do you keep looking at me like you want me to ruin you?”
Her heart slammed into her ribs.
She opened her mouth. Closed it. She couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe.
He tilted his head, studying her like she was a puzzle he’d almost solved.
“I could make you forget him,” he murmured.
And then, without warning, he stepped back, hands raised in surrender.
“But hey,” he said, shrugging. “You’re right. I’ll stay away.”
Lily stared at him, stunned by the sudden shift, by the teasing edge in his voice.
He winked. “Unless you change your mind.”
Then he walked away.
Just like that.
Like he hadn’t just set her entire world on fire and left her standing in the ashes.
By the time Lily got to her afternoon class, her legs were shaking.
And as if fate hadn’t done enough damage, Nate was there waiting—sitting at the far end of the room, eyes already on her.
He smiled. But this time, it didn’t feel warm.
It felt calculated.
Lily sat beside him, tense.
“I’ve been thinking,” he said softly, too softly. “We should do something this weekend. Just us. Maybe go off campus.”
She hesitated. “I have a lot of studying.”
“You’ve been distant.”
“I told you, I’m just—”
“Stressed. I know.” He reached out, brushing her knuckles with his. “But you don’t have to be alone in it.”
She forced a nod. “Okay. We’ll figure something out.”
He smiled again.
But underneath it, Lily could feel the pressure. The weight of expectation.
The fear of what might happen if she said no.
That night, she couldn’t concentrate on her reading. Her thoughts spiraled, tangled between Nate’s intensity and Blake’s haunting words.
I could make you forget him.
And what scared her the most wasn’t that Blake had said it.
It was that she wanted him to try.
The knock on her door made her jump.
It wasn’t Nate.
It was a single piece of paper, slipped under the door.
Another note.
Her hands trembled as she unfolded it.
You’re not scared of me. You’re scared of how I make you feel.
No signature.
But her heart answered anyway.
Yes.
Yes, she was.
And somehow… she wanted more.
- Writer
