BEHIND CLOSED DOORS | 18+ |✔

27

c h a p t e r   t w e n t y - s e v e n 

This little writer over here deserves forgiveness for this terribly late update—but it's official, I have now recovered from the severe writer's block I had faced during the last month. My humble apologies to everyone who was about to give up on this story but was patient with me. I hope Rhys and Antonia's lovey-dovey escapade can cover up for this. 

Thank you. 

Now, onto the story. 

The smoke from the hair curler surrounded her face as the black-haired woman behind her retracted the machine and stepped back to admire her work. For the first time in a long while, Antonia's hair looked manageable. 

"And...." Emma brushed the long wavy strands of her best friend's chocolate brown hair, "done!" 

The blue-eyed woman sitting in front of the mirror looked nothing like the girl who wore jeans and pencil skirts. Instead, the waves of her hair, the red lipstick Emma had put on her, the black choker on her neck made her look like she was ready to be featured on a magazine cover. 

"Emma," still a doubt lingered, "is this dress okay?" 

The taller woman rolled her eyes, "The Chancellor's mother is a sucker for such clothes, you'll see once you get there." 

Cautiously, Antonia stood up on her black stilettos and inspected her reflection. The red dress reached up to the middle of her thighs, and even though it was not too short, something about wearing it to a birthday party did not sit well with her. Fiddling with the golden buttons on the side, that went in a line along her stomach, she pursed her lips at the plunging neckline of the dress, designed like a collar that showcased her collarbones and a fair amount of her cleavage.

"Oh God, that dress was made for you!" Emma commented from behind, fixing the hem of her own blue one shoulder bodycon dress. She was whining a few minutes ago about the lack of breasts on her, and that she was flatter than an ironing board. 

"We still have some time before our cab arrives," Emma grabbed her makeup brush, "enough time for a little blush and highlight!" 

Squeezing her cheeks with one hand, she finished the last touches to Antonia's simple makeup and after a few more praises to her beauty and perfect freckles, Emma finally put aside the cosmetics and looked at the watch. 

"I'll finish my hair," she took her comb, "meanwhile, you go take selfies to post!" 

They shared a laugh and Antonia made her way to the living room of Emma's apartment, which was quite far away from the Academy. It was a modest apartment for a lone person, and it was enviously cosy.

Sitting down on the sofa, she fished out her phone and checked the messages. Two days ago, when she had received the invitation, she had shockingly discovered that she had nothing to wear to a party. That was when her saviour, Emma Brown had flown in to rescue her and agreed to lend one of her dresses. 

She opened her messages, and instantly a smirk arose when she saw the Chancellor's name. Her fingers hovered over the letters, an all-too-well cacophony of emotions swirling up in her chest, with a load of anticipation at how he would react to her appearance.