Ivy
The kiss had been hours ago, but my body was still holding onto it like it was sacred scripture. Like it had etched itself into my bones. Stupid lips. Stupid eyes. Stupid heart that wouldn't shut up about it. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw him. That moment. The way his mouth brushed mine like he was trying not to start a war, only to end up starting one anyway. And now here I was, spiraling, stuck between burning need and the annoying little fact that wanting him might actually kill me.
Not metaphorically. Like, actual death.
I flopped onto the bed and stared at the ceiling for a solid thirty seconds before grabbing my jot pad and scribbling:
LEARN HOW TO FIGHT.
Then underneath that:
Learn how to play this damn school game.
Eye Academy wasn’t a school. It was a death arena
