EPISODE 1
1078 Words
The sunlight crept through the tall curtains, falling across my face like it was trying to remind me that another day had started in this suffocating house. I blinked slowly, still buried in my pillow, hoping that if I stayed there long enough, I'd wake up somewhere else...somewhere that didn't have rules or expectations or a mother who decided who I could look at, breathe next to, or think about.
But I wasn't that lucky.
"Vivian! Breakfast!" My mother's voice sliced through the quiet, sharp as glass.
I groaned. She never waited, never knocked, never cared if I wanted peace.
I sat up, letting my long blonde hair fall loose over my shoulders. My reflection in the mirror looked older somehow...less of the girl I used to be, more of someone who'd learnt to keep secrets behind a calm smile. Soon I'd be eighteen. But in this house, I doubted that would make any difference.
Downstairs, the maids moved around like ghosts...heads bowed, eyes down. I passed them quietly and took my seat at the table. My mother sat at the far end, her posture perfect as ever, her knife slicing through bread with the precision of someone who'd been trained not to feel. My father was reading the paper beside her, pretending not to notice the way she controlled every breath that existed around her.
"Morning, Mother. Father."
My mother didn't look up. "You slept late again."
"I wasn't feeling too well."
"Hmm." That was all she said before taking a sip of tea. My father gave me a small, sympathetic glance, one that said 'I'm sorry, but you know how she is'.
I looked down at my plate, then out the window...and that's when I saw him.
Lucas.
He was by the garden, sleeves rolled up, dirt on his hands, trimming the hedge like he didn't even notice the sun burning the back of his neck. He looked different... older. His jaw was sharper, his shoulders broader. There was something about him that made the world around me go quiet.
"Vivian."
My mother's voice snapped me out of my trance.
"Yes?"
"I asked if you're still attending that event with your brother tonight."
"I... suppose I am."
"Good. You'll be representing the Hamilton name. Wear something appropriate."
Appropriate. She meant dull, modest, lifeless.
I stood up before she could say more. "May I be excused?"
She looked up at last, eyes cold. "Don't make a fool of yourself today, Vivian. You're almost a woman now. Act like one."
Almost a woman.
Almost free.
Almost happy.
I left the table before the heat behind my eyes could turn into tears.
★★★★★
The breeze was softer outside. The scent of freshly cut grass wrapped around me as I walked toward the garden. Lucas was still there, his back turned. For a while, I just watched him...his movements, the quiet strength in his arms. When I finally spoke, my voice came out smaller than I expected. I loved teasing him.
"You still pretend not to see me, don't you?"
He froze, the clippers stopping midair. Slowly, he turned around, wiping sweat off his face with the back of his hand. His eyes met mine...those deep grey eyes that used to make my heart do ridiculous things.
"Miss Hamilton," he said, voice low and polite, too formal. "You shouldn't be out here."
"Why not?"
He sighed. "Because if your mother sees you talking to me again, she'll have my head."
I folded my arms. "You're so afraid of her, Man up."
"I'm afraid of losing my job. That hasn't changed."
Something in me snapped at that. "So that's all this ever was for you? Fear? I was a child then, Lucas. You made me believe-"
He cut me off. "You were ten, Vivian. And I was foolish enough to care."
The words hit harder than I thought they would. Foolish enough to care.
"Then why are you still here?" I whispered. "If you hate me that much."
His jaw tightened. "I never said I hated you."
"Then what are you saying?"
He looked at me for a long time, his eyes softening in a way that made my heart ache. "That I don't belong in your world. That I learned that lesson the hard way."
I stepped closer, lowering my voice. "And yet, here you are. Still in my father's estate. Still within reach."
His breath hitched. "Vivian..."
"Say it," I murmured. "Say you've stopped thinking about me."
He didn't. He couldn't.
Instead, he dropped the clippers and turned away like running from me would erase whatever was burning between us.
I reached for his arm before he could go. "You don't get to walk away again."
"Stop, Vivian."
"No."
He turned sharply, and for a moment, we were too close. His scent...earth, sweat, and something that felt like home... wrapped around me. His fingers brushed my wrist, maybe by accident, but my whole body reacted as if it was deliberate.
"This isn't right," he said through clenched teeth.
"Then why does it feel like it is?"
He stared at me, torn between anger and something else...something dangerous.
"If your mother sees us-"
"She won't."
I didn't know what I was doing. All I knew was that I was tired of pretending not to want him, tired of letting everyone else decide who I was allowed to care for. I stood on my toes and pressed my lips to his cheek...a soft, stolen touch that burned like fire.
He stiffened instantly. "Vivian."
"Tell me you don't want me, Lucas, and I'll stop," I whispered.
But he didn't.
He just stared at me, breathing hard, eyes dark and conflicted.
Then he stepped back, breaking the moment apart like it never existed.
"Go back inside," he said, voice hoarse. "Please."
Before I could answer, a voice thundered from behind us.
"VIVIAN HAMILTON!"
I froze.
My mother.
She was standing at the edge of the path, her face pale with fury, eyes burning holes through both of us. The air turned heavy, the silence unbearable.
Lucas dropped his gaze immediately.
My heart pounded.
"M–Mother, I was just-"
"Enough," she said coldly. "Inside. Now."
I looked at Lucas one last time, searching his face for anything...regret, apology, courage...but all I found was silence.
And as I walked back toward the house, I knew something had just broken between us...something that might never be fixed again.
Or maybe it was only just beginning.
- Writer
