42. Girl Worth Fighting For

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this is pretty short, so i figured i'd give this to y'all sooner rather than later. also, peep the mulan title for this chap ;))))

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Chapter 42—Girl Worth Fighting For

Klara's POV:

It's safe to say that the moment I had taken notice of my twin sister's crestfallen expression after attempting her to have a conversation I had basically forced her into having, I was out for blood. Before Leah herself had gotten around to informing me of how her talk with Dylan had gone so beyond south than I could've imagined, Vin had found me, being a first-hand witness to the ugly ordeal that had went down.

When he had told me of the conversation he was a bystander for, anger had easily flared up inside me directed towards Dylan, for being the dick I had been hoping he wasn't. I was ready to storm up to him and give him a piece of my mind, not caring for the wedding around me, but Leah had managed to intervene before I was even halfway to Dylan.

And somehow, even after going through something as bitter as she had, Leah had managed to put a small smile on her face as she told me, "Don't, Klara. Not now—today's about Mum and Dad, we don't need unnecessary drama."

She wouldn't let me go until I promised her I wouldn't try to start anything with Dylan, and I had reluctantly done so. After that, Leah had smiled gratefully, before being whisked away by Wyatt for a dance. And so here I was, sitting on one of the stool at the bar as I nursed a bottle of beer, all the while watching the vast amount of people enjoying themselves. Occasionally, my eyes would slip to wherever Dylan was, and they would narrow in a deathly glare. Especially when he would try to approach Leah, who would deftly and gracefully avoid him by occupying herself in the company of others.

"If looks could kill, Dylan would be dead and so deep under."

I glanced away in time to see Vin settle on the stool to my left, motioning for the bartender for a beer that was placed in front of him moments later. I sat with my back to the bar, leaning back with my elbows propped up on the counter, while Vin was facing it with his arms folded on top and right hand gripping his bottle. He turned his head to the left to look at me as I scoffed.

"He's bloody lucky I haven't kicked his arse," I retorted murderously, my fingers around the neck of my bottle as I took another gulp. Feeling a rant come on, I inhaled sharply, swinging myself around in the stool until I was leaning my left elbow on the bar, body facing Vin as he looked at me in curiosity. "I mean, what kind of egotistical maniac does all those things with a girl, and ends up saying they're not in any form of a relationship? He—he basically led her on and that's not—" I stopped with a grunt, taking another sip of my drink. "I wanna kick his arse back to London."

A soft smile graced Vin's lips as he looked at me, understanding in his cerulean eyes. "Don't think your parents will appreciate that at the moment," he teasingly reasoned, although his tone was light. Understanding. I merely rolled my eyes, teeth grinding together as my jaw clenched, eyes surveying the many famous and non-famous guests at the party. I heard Vin let out a sigh, before catching from my peripheral vision that he had shifted in his seat so his body could face me. "Look, Klara," he began, prompting me to glance at him. "You need to let Leah and Dylan figure this out for themselves, okay? I'm sure Dylan regrets what he said and—"

My eyes instantly narrowed, straightening in my seat as I shot the black haired boy a threatening glare, unable to help myself. "Are you defending him?" I inquired, lips thinning.

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