(TW : SLIGHT MENTION OF ASSAULT)

The warm glow of Lily's house welcomed me as I stepped inside, the scent of vanilla candles and faint popcorn lingering in the air. The living room, with its plush couch and carefully arranged throw pillows, was already partially cleared—Lily must have been preparing for her "ballet session" before I even arrived. Her small feet padded across the hardwood floors as she bounced toward me, her dark hair swishing with each excited step.

"Amber! You're here!" she exclaimed, grabbing my hand. Her large eyes sparkled with excitement, and I barely had time to set down my bag before she pulled me toward the open space.

"I'm here," I laughed, slipping off my sneakers and placing them neatly by the door. The polished hardwood reflected the soft light from the lamps, giving the room a cozy yet organized vibe. "What's the rush?"

"Can we do ballet tonight? Just us?" she asked, already positioning herself in a wobbly first position.

I raised an eyebrow, amused. "Didn't we just have class yesterday?"

"But it's more fun here!" she insisted, planting her hands on her hips in a way that reminded me of her mother.

"Alright, but you have to show me what you remember first," I relented, tying my hair into a loose ponytail.

Lily grinned and stood tall—or as tall as her small frame would allow—before carefully placing her feet in what she thought was first position. "Like this?"

"Almost," I said, crouching to adjust her stance. "Here, keep your back straight, and don't let your toes turn in."

She followed my instructions seriously, her face scrunching with concentration. "Okay, now what?"

"Now, let's try pliés. Bend your knees gently, like this," I demonstrated, keeping my movements slow and fluid.

Lily mirrored me, wobbling slightly but beaming when she didn't immediately fall over. "I did it!"

"You're a natural," I encouraged, clapping lightly. "Let's try a spin next."

We moved through a few more steps, her giggles filling the space each time she wobbled or exaggerated her movements. The house felt alive with her energy, the polished floors and cozy furniture becoming our makeshift stage.

An hour passed in a blur of laughter and small leaps. I'd just finished helping Lily with a particularly dramatic turn when the sound of the front door opening caught my attention.

"Bryan's here!" Lily chirped, immediately abandoning her "stage" to run toward the door.

I froze, my stomach sinking slightly. Sure enough, Bryan stepped into view, his tall frame filling the doorway. He wore a dark hoodie and jeans, his hair slightly tousled in that annoyingly effortless way. His expression was unreadable as he glanced around the room, taking in the pushed-back furniture and Lily's flushed cheeks.

"What's going on here?" he asked, his tone flat but with an edge of curiosity.

"Amber's teaching me ballet!" Lily declared proudly, dragging him into the room. "Look what I can do!"

I straightened, brushing a stray strand of hair from my face as Bryan's sharp gaze flicked toward me. "You've turned this place into a dance studio?" he said, arching an eyebrow.

"It's not a studio," I said evenly, crossing my arms. "We're just practicing."

"Practicing," he repeated, his lips curving into that familiar smirk. "Looks intense."

Lily, sensing his sarcasm, planted her hands on her hips. "It is intense! You don't know anything about ballet."

"I know enough to know it's not real exercise," he shot back, his tone dripping with mockery.

I rolled my eyes, already feeling my patience slipping. "You wouldn't last two minutes in a class."

"Oh yeah?" he said, stepping closer with an air of challenge. "Is that so?"

"Yes," I replied, glaring up at him. His dark eyes sparkled with amusement, and I hated how effortlessly smug he looked.

Lily, ever the instigator, grabbed his arm. "Then you try! Amber, make him do a plié!"

"Lily—" Bryan started, clearly not expecting this turn of events.

"Yes, Bryan," I cut in, smiling sweetly. "Show us your plié."

He sighed dramatically, stepping into the cleared space.

Bryan stood stiffly in front of me, his broad shoulders making his attempt at first position look even more ridiculous. His feet were angled awkwardly, and his arms hung loosely by his sides.

"Like this?" he asked, his tone heavy with sarcasm.

"Not even close," I said, barely holding back a laugh. "Here, feet like this, arms rounded. Try to look less... stiff."

He shot me a glare but adjusted his posture begrudgingly. "Now what?"

"Plié," I said simply, stepping back.

Bryan bent his knees in what could only be described as a squat, his balance faltering almost immediately. Lily burst into laughter, clutching her sides. "Bryan! You look like a frog!"

"Thanks, Lily," he muttered, straightening up.

"You're both insufferable," Bryan grumbled, though the corners of his mouth twitched in a reluctant smile.

Still laughing, Lily suddenly tugged on my arm. "Amber, show him how it's done! You're so good at spins!"

"Fine," I said, stepping into the space again. I executed a clean, smooth pirouette, landing gracefully with a smirk aimed at Bryan.

"See?" I said, crossing my arms. "It's not that hard."

"Oh, please," he shot back, standing straighter. "Let me try again."

I moved aside as he prepared himself, attempting a turn. This time, his footwork got tangled, and he stumbled—straight into me.

I caught him instinctively, my hands landing on his shoulders as his hands gripped my waist to steady himself.

For a moment, everything stilled. His dark eyes locked on mine, and I felt my breath hitch. The air between us shifted, and the room felt smaller somehow, charged with an unspoken tension.

Neither of us moved, the faint sound of Lily giggling in the background fading as his grip lingered just a second too long.

"Careful," I finally said, my voice quieter than I intended.

"Yeah," he murmured, his voice unusually soft, his smirk nowhere in sight.

The moment shattered as Lily burst out, "You almost fell on her, Bryan!"

He released me quickly, stepping back and rubbing the back of his neck. "Guess ballet's harder than it looks," he muttered.

"Exactly," I said, recovering my composure as I crossed my arms again. "And don't forget it."

But even as I turned away, I couldn't shake the feeling of his hands on my waist—or the way his eyes had looked into mine.

—---.

After tucking Lily into bed, I returned to the living room, expecting Bryan to be halfway out the door. Instead, he was sprawled on the couch, his long legs stretched out and his phone in hand. He glanced up as I entered, his expression shifting into a familiar mix of annoyance and amusement.

"Finally," he said, sitting up and placing his phone on the armrest. "Thought you forgot about this."

I rolled my eyes, grabbing my notebook from my bag. "Let's just get this over with," I muttered, settling into the chair across from him.

For the next half hour, we worked on the Spanish project, or at least, Bryan worked while I stumbled through my beginner-level Spanish, earning an occasional snort or sarcastic comment.

"You really don't pay attention in class, do you?" he asked, his voice flat but cutting.

"I'm trying," I snapped, feeling my cheeks flush.

"Try harder," he replied, leaning back with a smug grin.

His constant corrections and sharp tone wore on my patience, and the frustration built with every passing minute. My eyelids felt heavier as the hours dragged on, my body sinking deeper into the couch. At some point, I must've slumped against the cushions and drifted off.

Darkness enveloped me, thick and suffocating. I was back in that room—his room. The muted scent of his cologne clung to the air, sharp and sickening. The walls felt too close, the dim light casting eerie shadows that danced with his every movement. My body was heavy, my limbs unwilling to move as he loomed over me, his presence oppressive and all-consuming.

His voice pierced the silence, low and mocking, each word dripping with malice. "Why do you always fight, Amber?" he sneered, his hand tightening around my wrist. "You know it's pointless."

I tried to pull away, but my body betrayed me, frozen in fear. My heart pounded against my ribcage, the deafening sound drowning out the small, trembling protests that escaped my lips. "No," I whispered, my voice barely audible, swallowed by the oppressive air.

He laughed—a cold, hollow sound that sent a chill down my spine. "No?" he repeated, leaning in closer, his breath hot and suffocating against my skin. "You don't get to say no."

Panic surged through me, and I thrashed against his grip, my movements frantic but futile. His weight pinned me down, crushing and immovable. Tears blurred my vision, streaming down my face as I choked out a desperate plea.

"Stop," I whimpered, my voice breaking.

"Stop?" he taunted, his tone sharp and cruel. "You think anyone's going to help you? No one cares, Amber. No one's coming for you."

The room seemed to close in further, the walls pressing against me as his laughter echoed around me. My lungs burned as I tried to scream, but no sound came out. The helplessness was suffocating, my body trembling with the effort to break free.

The words reverberated in my mind, the crushing weight of his presence consuming me. The air grew colder, the shadows darker, as his grip tightened, leaving me gasping for breath.

"Amber!"

The sound of my name, sharp and urgent, shattered the nightmare's hold on me. I shot up, my chest heaving as I gasped for air, my body trembling. The familiar sight of Lily's living room came into focus, the warm glow of the lamp starkly contrasting the darkness that still clung to my mind.

Bryan was standing in front of me, his dark eyes wide with something I couldn't quite place—concern? Confusion? "Amber," he said again, his voice lower this time, almost hesitant. "What the hell was that?"

I blinked, trying to orient myself, the remnants of the nightmare still coursing through me. My hands shook as I pushed my hair back, my breaths coming in shallow gasps. "I—I fell asleep," I stammered, my voice barely above a whisper.

"You were screaming," he said, his tone unusually soft but steady. "Like, full-on nightmare screaming."

The heat of embarrassment crept up my neck, and I avoided his gaze, focusing on the frayed edge of the couch cushion instead. "I'm fine," I mumbled, my voice tight. "Just a bad dream."

Bryan didn't move, his eyes narrowing slightly. "That wasn't just a bad dream, Lee," he said, his voice firm but not unkind. "You were shaking. What's going on?"

"It's none of your business," I snapped, the sharpness in my tone fueled by the vulnerability clawing at my chest.

His expression hardened, the concern fading behind a mask of indifference. "Fine," he said, stepping back. "Keep it to yourself. But maybe next time, don't fall asleep during a tutoring session."

The words stung, but I refused to let it show. I stood up, grabbing my notebook with trembling hands. The silence between us was heavy.

—----

The cool night air wrapped around me as Bryan and I stepped outside, the crispness biting against my skin. I shoved my hands into the pockets of my puffer jacket, my head down as I focused on the rhythmic crunch of our steps on the gravel path. The silence between us was heavy, stretching like an invisible wall that neither of us wanted to breach.

Bryan walked beside me, his long strides effortlessly keeping pace with mine. His hoodie was pulled up slightly at the sleeves, revealing tanned forearms, and his hands were stuffed into his jeans pockets. The faint glow of the street lights flickered across his face, casting sharp shadows over his sharp jawline and the faint scruff that lined it.

For a while, neither of us said a word. The only sounds were the faint hum of distant cars and the occasional rustle of leaves in the breeze. I focused on the path ahead, my chest still heavy from the lingering remnants of the nightmare.

Finally, Bryan broke the silence. "You're really not going to tell me what that was about?" His voice was quieter than usual, missing the edge of mockery I'd come to expect.

I stiffened, my jaw tightening as I kept my gaze forward. "There's nothing to tell."

He scoffed lightly, the sound more disbelieving than rude. "You expect me to believe that? You were screaming, Amber. Like—screaming."

I clenched my hands into fists inside my pockets, the weight of his words pressing against me. "It was just a nightmare," I muttered, my voice clipped. "That's all."

Bryan stopped walking for a second, forcing me to glance at him. His dark eyes were searching, his brows drawn together in a way that made him look more serious than I'd ever seen him. "Nightmares don't just happen out of nowhere."

"Can we not do this?" I snapped, taking a few hurried steps ahead of him. "I don't owe you an explanation, Bryan."

He caught up easily, his tone colder now. "Fine. Keep it to yourself. You're real good at that, huh?"

I turned my head sharply, glaring at him. "What's that supposed to mean?"

He shrugged, his hands still deep in his pockets. "Nothing," he said, his voice laced with indifference. "Just seems like you've got a lot bottled up."

His words struck deeper than I wanted to admit, but I bit my tongue, refusing to let him see how much he'd gotten under my skin. "Not everything is your business, Munzo," I muttered, my tone quieter now but still sharp.

"Clearly," he shot back, his gaze flicking toward me briefly before looking ahead again.

The rest of the walk passed in strained silence, the tension between us palpable. When the dorm came into view, I felt a wave of relief, eager to escape his probing questions and the heavy air between us.

As we reached the entrance, Bryan stopped, his expression unreadable in the dim light. "You sure you're okay?" he asked, his tone softer, almost hesitant.

I met his gaze briefly, the concern in his eyes catching me off guard. "I'm fine," I said, my voice steady, though I wasn't sure I believed it myself.

"Right," he said simply, stepping back. "See you Tuesday, Ballerina."

I watched him turn and walk away, his figure disappearing into the shadows of the street. With a deep breath, I headed inside, the warmth of the dorm doing little to shake off the lingering chill of the night.

—-----

Thanks for Reading Chapter Seventeen!

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