Bullied By My Fated Mate

CHAPTER 5

DESPERATE THINGS

“What do you want?” I muttered.

I tried to step back again, but before I could create any distance, Thomas moved fast again.

His hand caught my wrist before anything registered, and in one sharp motion he pulled me forward, turning me around and pressing my back firmly against the cold bathroom wall. My breath knocked out of me instantly.

The impact wasn’t brutal enough to hurt, but it was firm enough to trap me there. Close enough that I could feel him in a way that made my pulse spike in my throat.

“Let go,” I said quickly, forcing strength into my voice even though my chest felt tight but Thomas didn't. Instead, his gaze dropped to me slowly and deliberately. And I could see his eyes up close now, the same gold I had seen moments ago but now something about it felt wrong. Like something underneath it was trying to hide what I'd seen but failing. I swallowed hard and immediately looked away, pretending I hadn’t noticed or felt the strange pressure in the air was safer.

“Stop it Thomas. I don't have time for your cruel jokes,” I said flatly. “So you can move.”

Thomas tilted his head slightly, studying me like I was something inconvenient.

“Cruel?,” he repeated slowly, like the word amused him. "Oh baby girl, this is just the beginning.”

My grip tightened around my folder and his eyes flicked down to it.

“What’s that?” he asked.

“It’s none of your business.”

A faint pause follow then he reached out, and the folder was ripped from my hands before I could react.

“Thomas—”

He ignored me completely.

The sound of the paper snapping slightly filled the space between us as he opened it casually and my stomach sank.

“Don’t,” I said sharply. “Give it back.”

But he was already reading. His expression barely changed at first, then his voice cut through the air—loud enough that even through the closed bathroom it would carry faintly into the corridor outside.

“Crestfall Preparatory Admissions Application.”

Something in my chest tightened painfully.

“Give it back,” I said again, stepping forward.

Thomas lifted it just out of reach without even looking at me and then I saw it again.

That flicker in his eyes, so quick I almost missed it. Something unsettled in me in that moment until he shut it down immediately—but it was there.

“You?” he said quietly but I knew it was a question. Just disbelief wrapped in mockery and something colder

“You actually think people like you get into Crestfall?”

My throat burned.

“You don't get to decide that,” I said, my voice tighter now.

He didn’t respond. Instead, he leaned in, and that was when I realized there was nowhere for me to move. The wall at my back, him in front of me. Too close. My breath hitched slightly, and I hated that it did.

“Do you know what’s funny?” he said.

His voice had dropped now, low and sharper.

“I’ve seen your type before.”

My fingers curled. “There is no my type.”

That earned a quiet, humourless exhale from him.

“You don’t even realize it,” he continued. “You walk around here like effort is enough. Like trying hard makes you special.”

My jaw clenched. “That’s not what I think.”

“It is,” he said immediately. “That’s exactly what you think.”

Silence stretched, and the air felt heavier with his gaze down upon me like I was some helpless puppy.

Then his hand tightened slightly around my wrist again—not painful, but controlling as I felt his breath on my face.

“I’ve been waiting for a moment like this,” he said quietly.

My stomach twisted. “What?”

His eyes held mine for a second longer than necessary. “To see you where you can’t run off and pretend you’re invisible.”

Something cold slid down my spine.

“You’re the Parker’s maid, aren’t you?” he added flatly and that blocked my breathing.

“And now the Parker’s maid wants Crestfall.”

The words hit harder than I expected, not because Thomas was loud. But because he was calm enough that he sounded certain about what he was on about. Like he believed it.

My vision blurred slightly at the edges with anger rising fast in my throat.

“Say that again,” I whispered.

For the first time, something shifted in my tone, almost reactive. As if my voice had hit something it shouldn’t have.

That flicker in his eyes appeared again and his jaw tightened slightly, like he was irritated by something he couldn’t control.

For half a second, his grip loosened. Then it came back instantly, firmer, as if he had corrected himself.

“Forget it,” he said coldly. Then he shoved the folder back into my chest. Hard enough that I stumbled slightly against the wall.

“Get out.”

The shift in histone was immediate and finale. But it didn’t feel like dismissal anymore. It felt like restraint, like he was trying to end something before it got worse.

I didn’t wait though, I didn't care enough to.

I turned fast, gripping my folder so tightly my fingers hurt, and pushed past him.

For a second, I thought he might stop me again but he didn't.

Still, I could feel his eyes on me as I reached the door. And only when my hand touched the handle did I realize they were shaking.

I pulled the door open and stepped out and collided with Archibald in the hallway.

"Whoa—" his strong hands caught my shoulders before I hit the floor.

I looked up and concern flashed across his face instantly. "Abigail?"

Normally, my heart would've stopped and I would've remembered how long I'd liked him. would've spent the next week replaying this exact moment in my head, but not today. All I could hear was Thomas. The Parker's maid, and my stomach twisted with all that.

"Abigail?" Archibald repeated my name.

I realized he was still holding my arm and I stepped back immediately. "I'm fine."

"You don't look fine."

I shook my head and walked away before he could ask anything else. Because at this moment I wasn't thinking about my crush or even the bathroom anymore. But the mockery in Thomas's voice and the certainty in his eyes when he looked at me like I was already a failure. Like Crestfall belonged to people like him and not people like me.

By the time I got home, anger had settled deep inside my chest and I was tired of being underestimated, overlooked and tired

of being told where I belonged.

My eyes drifted toward my desk drawer where the gold and crimson bottles waited silently inside.

For a long moment, I stared at the gold one which granted success.

Then I remembered Thomas's voice.

'You actually think people like you get into Crestfall?'

My jaw tightened.

"Watch me," I whispered, reaching for the gold bottle like it was my last hope.