Beguile

2 The Hall of Perfection

I stood before the mirror, staring at my reflection as I debated what to wear for the party.

Dresses were the obvious choice, weren't they? Elegant, flowing, the epitome of grace. But after a long, fruitless search through the wardrobe, I settled on pants. Practical, comfortable, and much more me. I paired them with a fitted blouse, adding a hint of sophistication to my otherwise simple choice.

As I fastened the last button, my gaze drifted across the room.

It was spacious and opulent, the kind of luxury that still felt foreign to me. The bed was draped in fine linens, the furniture polished to a gleam, and the air itself seemed to carry a faint, pleasant scent of fresh blooms.

It was nothing like the dormitory. Back then, the walls were plain, the furniture worn, and the space shared. This room, though-this was different. It felt... familiar somehow, as though I'd been here before.

I had just slipped into my shoes when the faint sound of rustling came from the window. Crossing the room quickly, I peered out into the night and saw Lucas.

"Hi, gorgeous." The moonlight caught the curve of his smile as he leaned casually against the sill, his dark hair slightly tousled from the wind. His dimples deepened, making that maddening grin even more disarming.

I fumbled with the latch, pretending it was more difficult than it actually was. The wind swept in as I pushed the window open, cold enough to sting my eyes, but I kept them locked on him. His smile widened, and I cursed silently, hoping he didn't notice the faint heat creeping up my neck.

"Careful," I muttered, holding the window up as he climbed in. It was a useless move, he didn't need my help. But I needed something to do with my hands, something to distract myself from how he's inside my bedroom.

I stepped back as he straightened, brushing off a stray leaf from his shirt. He glanced around the room, his gaze lingering on the details. "Wow. Look at you, all fancy now. This room suits you. Elegant, refined... you."

I rolled my eyes, but my stomach flipped at the way he said it. "It's just a room, Lucas."

He chuckled, stepping closer to examine the desk, running his fingers over its polished surface. "No, really. You fit here. But I'll admit, it's a bit strange seeing you in a place like this. I mean, you're still the same girl who once tripped over her own feet trying to chase a squirrel."

I narrowed my eyes at him. "I was trying to save it. And I didn't trip."

"You fell flat on your face."

I huffed, turning away to grab my cloak. "Are you done reminiscing, or do you want to keep embarrassing me?"

I busied myself with adjusting my cloak. Tonight was the time to let him see how I felt. I'd already decided how this would go: I'd drown myself in enough alcohol to confess, and if-when-he rejected me, I'd laugh it off and pretend I didn't remember a thing the next morning. Foolproof.

"Never done," he said as he flopped onto the bed. The motion sent his shirt riding up just enough to reveal the unmistakable V that disappeared beneath his waistband.

I froze for half a second, my gaze betraying me before I snapped it back to his face. He was lounging there, one arm tucked behind his head, looking completely at ease.

"You're going to wrinkle the sheets," I said, crossing my arms and trying to sound annoyed instead of flustered.

"Worth it," he drawled, "This bed's better than mine. I might just stay here."

I forced myself to move, perching carefully on the edge of the bed beside him. Just a friend sitting next to another friend. That's all this was. Nothing unusual. Nothing at all. Except for the fact that my heart was racing like I'd just sprinted through the woods.