she's an anomaly, and they can't help but be infatuated with her.
NO SMUT OR SEXUALIZING ━ if any of the triplets are uncomfortable with this fanfiction, it will be taken down immediately.
matt sturniolo x fem! oc x chris sturniolo (LOVE TRIANGLE)
l...
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𝖝𝖝𝖝𝖛𝖎. Princes Make Her Blind
WESTON GRUMBLES all the way out of the infirmary and into the concrete yard. He even walks slowly, forcing Maeve to slow down for him. She tries to ignore him, for Matt's sake, for the cause, but when she catches the word stupid for the third time, she has to stop short.
He collides with her back. "Sorry," he says, not sounding at all apologetic.
"No, I'm sorry," she spits back, spinning to face him. A little bit of the anger she felt toward the Colonel spills over and her cheeks flush with heat. "I'm sorry you can't stop being an ass for two minutes so you can see exactly what's going on here."
She expects him to shout at her, to match her blow for blow in the usual way. Instead, he sucks in a breath and steps back, working furiously to calm himself.
"You think I'm so stupid?" he says. "Please, Maeve, educate me. Show me the light. What do you know that I don't?"
The words beg to fall out. But the yard is too open, filled with the Colonel's soldiers, Guardsmen, and refugees hustling back and forth. And while there are no Silver whispers to read her mind, no cameras to watch her every move, she won't go soft now. She won't forget everything she learned within the last few days, all the lessons, all the punishments. Weston follows her gaze, eyeing a troop of Guardsmen who jog within a few yards of them.
"You think they're spying on you?" he scoffs, dropping his voice to a mocking whisper. "C'mon, Maeve. We're all on the same side here."
"Are we?" she asks, letting the words sink in. "You heard what the Colonel called me. And Cassian. Things. Freaks."
Weston flushes red. "He didn't mean that."
"Oh, and you know the man so well?"
Thankfully, he has no retort for that.
"He looks at me like I'm the enemy, like I'm some kind of bomb about to go off," she says, looking away. She hates being perceived like that.
"He's ━ " Weston stumbles, unsure of the words even as they leave his lips. "He's not entirely wrong though, is he?"
Maeve spins so fast that the heel of her boot leaves black skid marks in the concrete. She wants to leave a similar bruise on Weston's stupid, sputtering face.
"Hey, c'mon," he calls after her, closing the distance in a few quick steps. But she keeps walking, and he keeps following. "Mae, stop. That came out wrong ━ "
