━━━+*:ꔫ:*+ﾟ━━━

Why'd you have to
Make me want you?

Say Don't Go (Taylor Swift)

ꔫ

When I opened my eyes, the room was still soaking in darkness. My senses started coming back to life as I felt a warm hand on my bare back. Even I was lying on a naked chest and it took me less than a second to recognize the person.

My ears heard the rhythmic beat of his heart that sounded like a lullaby to me. His arm wrapped around me brought me a calming feeling and I breathed in his scent. This was one of those moments a person wanted to treasure forever in their brain, dusting it off from time to time to remember the happiness it carried. I didn't want to give it up.

Never.

I wished to stay in this position forever with the rest of the world locked out behind the doors.

However, my body seemed to get another idea because my bladder would explode if I didn't visit the toilet at this moment.

As carefully as I could I slipped out from beneath Cyril's arms. I ended up giving him a pillow to grab so that he wouldn't wake up to my absence.

When I exited the bathroom, my eyes fell on my bedside table with my and Cyril's phones on it and I silently grabbed mine. There weren't any new notifications but I wasn't searching for them either. I opened my Instagram and clicked myself through the chats with a soft smile dancing on my face.

drawingprincess74: You were right. Thank you.

I wanted to turn my phone off and return to Cyril's heavenly embrace when I heard the vibration coming from the bedside table. It ended quickly but the screen was still on when I stole a look at it. However, the moment I read the white notification, my heart sank right into the deepest parts of my guts. My smile had been long forgotten too as a sour expression substituted it.

My eyes wandered over to the sleeping boy. Every worry had left his body in his sleep and he was completely relaxed, gently holding the pillow I gave him. I looked back at his phone.

It was him.

It had been him all along.

Did he know that it was me? My brain told me that he did. Of course he did. I remembered when he spotted my drawing of that formula driver in the library. That day, I didn't detect the recognition in his face but now that puzzle pieces started to fit, it all made sense.

Then I recalled his last messages.

He wanted me to talk to him. He recommended it, knowing I'd listen to him. And he got me right where he wanted.

In the end, I was just a puppet in his life. He saw his chance to play with me and he ran for it.

Me being me, I fell for his devilish smirk and words of his attraction toward me.

Tears started to team up in my eyes and they craved to escape.

No. Not yet.

I blindly reached for a piece of clothing that had been thrown on the ground after last night.

Last night.

Oh my– What did I do?

What did I let him do?

I put on the first thing that came into my hands – Cyril's white shirt.

I didn't have the patience to search for my clothes that were mixed up somewhere in that bundle as I started buttoning it up to cover my body.

I had to get out of here. Now. Before Cyril woke up and found me on the verge of crying.

When I made sure I was covered up – thankfully his size was bigger than mine and his shirt almost reached my knees – I hurried out of the room.

There was only one place in my mind that I could go to.

I ran down the stairs, praying not to trip on my way.

At last I stopped in front of James's door but I hesitated. What if he was asleep? The sun hadn't even risen yet. Normal people were asleep at this time. I would have been too if I hadn't seen the notification on his phone of my incoming message.

Suddenly the door behind me opened and I spun around. To my shock, James was standing there with his shirt halfway buttoned up.

"Betty?" he asked. "I heard some noises–"

He must have noticed my face wet from tears.

"What happened?"

"I–" I uttered. "I messed up."

"Wait here," he instructed in a whisper and returned to the room.

I didn't know who it belonged to but truthfully I didn't even care. I just needed to let my heart out. And besides James no one else was coming to my mind who would willingly listen to me.

Finally James appeared again and carefully closed the door after himself. I crossed my arms over my chest, realizing how poorly I was dressed compared to James who was unlocking the door to his room.

We entered and realized it was identical to mine. However, his didn't have a spare bed.

"Tell me, what happened?" he urged me gently, putting his hands on my shoulders.

"Cyril. He–"

I sob broke out.

"What did Cyril do? Did he try anything? Did he hurt you? Is this his shirt?"

I shook my head. "He didn't hurt me. Not physically."

He pursed his lips but he remained calm.

"You can tell me."

And so I did.

I told him everything. I revealed my secret account to him and how I started messaging with a guy there. How he had grown on me. How I started to trust him.

And then I opened up about Cyril. I told him how he stood up for me in front of Paul and how he helped me with chemistry.

By the time I reached the part of my story that involved last night, I was sitting on his bed with a glass of water. James didn't interrupt me. Not even when I felt like my heart was going to burst out of my chest. He nodded at me, letting me know that I had all the time I needed. That he was here to listen to me.

Telling him about the intimate thing that happened between me and his best friend sparked up some embarrassment knowing that he was my half brother but I pushed myself through it. I couldn't keep it to myself any longer.

Finally I reached the end of my story when I told him how I found out that Cyril had known about my identity all this time.

I watched James's reaction. However, all this talk lulled me to sleep and my eyelids felt like two opposite magnets.

"You can sleep here," he offered with care.

And I didn't fight him. I let him lay me down and cover me with his warm comforter. I ignored the memories of Cyril's warm skin against mine. Or the fact that Cyril and I were twisting in identical bedsheets a couple of hours ago, savoring each other's presence.

That was gone.

Right when I thought I gripped the opportunity to happiness, it slipped out of my reach.

ꔫ

I was woken up by James. The sun had already given light into the room which was another sign that I should go back to where I escaped from. Today I had one more interview and I couldn't mess it up – that was the only thing that pressured me to leave the comfort of James's bed. He gave me one of his sweatpants and a sweater so that I wouldn't walk back to my room in only a shirt that barely covered my legs.

And right now I was standing before the door that led to my – our – room. Unfortunately, when I left a couple of hours ago like a coward, I forgot to grab my key so now I had to knock to be let in.

Cyril opened the door and I swallowed. He had already dressed for the day.

"Betty," he said.

"Vega," I returned and walked past him.

Automatically I headed for my suitcase that was on the ground and I started to sort my clothes, choosing my outfit for today. Cyril was silently watching me.

Did he know what happened?

Then I had an idea that James might have paid him a visit. That wasn't impossible considering that I could only guess what he was doing while I was asleep. And it was obvious that Cyril knew that something was up. He didn't let me in with his usual playful smirk.

"What are you doing?" Cyril spoke at last.

I had already thrown my chosen clothes on the bed and zipped up my suitcase.

"Leaving," I replied and rolled my suitcase over to the door. Cyril stepped out of my way but his eyes were burning holes in me.

"Where?"

"Away from you."

"Betty–"

"I'll find a hotel nearby," I added.

I refused to look at him. I didn't know how much he knew but seeing his face was the last thing I wanted.

"Betty, you don't have to."

"But I do!" I exclaimed.

My patience was as thin as the ice at the end of winter when it started melting.

He was quiet and I didn't change that. I left my suitcase by the door and grabbed my clothes, entering the bathroom so that I could change. Once I returned, I spotted Cyril staring out through the window with his hands in his pockets but when he heard me coming, he turned to face me.

"Here," I said coldly, throwing his shirt on the bed.

His eyes traced my hand movements.

"I'll leave," he announced. "You don't have to go."

His voice was so indifferent that it was driving me crazy. Did last night not mean anything to him?

Then I noticed his duffel bag next to him. Did he have enough time to pack while I was in the bathroom?

He silently picked up his bag and started walking towards the door. Right after he passed me, I couldn't hold it in myself any longer.

"Did you know?" I asked the question that had been bugging me for hours now. I saw him stop, his hand tightly gripping his bag. "Did you know it was me, Prince?"

I knew that the nickname lit a spark of recognition in him and I didn't even need to see his face for that. His body posture was enough for me to read him.

"I did."

I ignored the way my heart was breaking into tiny pieces by those two simple words.

"How long?"

He didn't answer. I waited for him, bracing myself. And when he did, at least he had the audacity to turn around and put his duffel bag down and look into my eyes.

His face revealed no emotion. Nothing.

Nada.

"When you dropped your sketchbook in the library. I recognized that drawing," he confirmed.

So I was right.

"Was any of it true?"

That account was the person I could let myself just be with. No names, no strings. And he had to take that away from me.

"Did you do this just to get into my pants?" I asked again, recalling Paul's words.

Oh my. Paul was right.

And here I was thinking that Cyril was different. So naively. No wonder that two of the school's biggest playboys chased me when I was so easy to win over.

"Your last messages," I continued when his face showed no sign of wanting to answer me. "You were persuading me to talk to you. Was this your plan? To feed me with lies, kiss me, spend a night with me and then laugh at my stupidity?"

Once again, the same answer: silence.

"Deny it," I challenged him, begged him.

"I'm sorry."

He was sorry.

Sorry!

As if a sorry could take back every second of heartbreak I had gone through just in the span of the last couple of hours.

"Leave," I said in an icy tone.

In order to save him from witnessing my breakdown I had to act like his actions weren't ruining me piece by piece.

"Leave!" I yelled at him when he didn't move.

And at last, he did. He nodded at me once and then walked through the door. I ignored the quiet voice of hope inside me that whispered that he might turn around and say that he didn't mean it. That he wanted to tell me. That everything we had gone through was true. That he wanted me the way I wanted him.

But Cyril just left.

And I collapsed on the floor, breaking down like a house of cards.

ꔫ

Sooo... That's a wrap!

Writing this was such a wild ride and Betty and Cyril became so important to me. I absolutely LOVED writing their story and I've got so many more plans for them! I really hope you enjoyed the beginning of the two of them (don't worry, this is not the end *wink wink*)

Please, feel free to share your thoughts about act 1! I love reading your comments and they always make my day. So if you have anything you might want to say or even theories about where this story might go, drop them in the comments! Or just tell me your favorite moment from this season. ANYTHING <33

Thank you for being on this journey with me and reading my stories because I'm so grateful for every one of you.

See you in act 2!

Until then, I hope you take care of yourself and we'll meet once season 2 is released. And you can always check out my other stories as well ;)

Sincerely, writingmagic 🤍