𝙰𝚜𝚙𝚎𝚗

Just like every other morning, Aspen Berkshire suffered the repercussions of the night before. She had forgotten to eat yet again. But, it wasn't her fault. It was never her fault- at least that's what she continuously told herself, the sentence always on constant loop in the recesses of her mind.

Fear has taken a seat in the bottom of her stomach. Sometimes, he moves to her throat until he's all that she can taste and she tries to get rid of him by shoving her slender fingers inside her mouth. But, fear has already made a home inside of her and he'll never leave her behind.

The familiar burning sensation in her throat was what drove her to glide along the floor and into the adjoining bathroom, where she was currently retching her guts out over the toilet. Wiping the sheen of sweat on her forehead, she forced herself to stand up on her quivering feet. She walked back sluggishly to her master bedroom and frowned at her surroundings. Mother Nature seemed to not share her sour mood. The sun danced behind her curtains and the birds whistled a merry, ariose tune. And, for that moment, everything in her life seemed almost perfect aside from the aching hunger in her stomach.

Not wanting her mother to wander into her room and notice things amiss, Aspen hurriedly took a shower and brushed her teeth. Donned in her satin bathrobe, she sauntered into her walk-in closet. As she passed by, her fingers trailed the fabrics of the clothings hung, the material of them kissing the skin of her fingertips. Her fingers paused on a pleated skirt and cozy sweater.

This will have to do, she thought.

At her vanity mirror, she applied cherry lip gloss over her lips and pinched her cheeks until a rosy hue appeared. An idea popped into her mind and opened the drawer and pulled out twin dainty azure ribbons. She tied the ends of her braids with them and took one last look at the mirror.

A porcelain doll with wide doe eyes and a sad smile stared back at her.

What a pitiful sight.

She bounded the spiralling staircase and paused.

"Oh sweetheart," her mother, Lovelee Berkshire, appeared at the end of the staircase mid-conversation with one of the maids hustling around. She looked at her attire in approval. "You look lovely."

She smiled. "Thanks, mom."

Her mother came up to her and touched the ends of her hair, toying with the ribbons. "What a nice touch."

"I wanted to try something new."

Her mother nodded. "I like it. It's authentic. It shows you, the real you." She tightened one of the ribbons, crooning, "My sweet, precious girl."

Before Aspen could say anything else, her mother's head snapped to the maid beside her who was cowering away. "What is it? I told you, I wanted the assortment of tulips for the entrance, not orchids! Who orders orchids for a classy event?" Her voice spilled down corridors and ricocheted off walls.

Aspen failed to understand how someone who looked similar to her could be entirely different. While Aspen spoke flowery words that birds were attuned to, her mother—despite her name— threw sharp words like knives.

Aspen cleared her throat. "What are you talking about?"

Her mother waved the maid off and ushered her daughter into the dining room, her heels clacking on the wooden floor. "I can't believe you forgot. It's Founders Ball, sweetheart and this year I'm responsible for organizing the event. I simply can not fail. Octavia will only rub it in my face—that wrench!"

"If I fail, it will only serve as a disgrace for our family!" she continued. "Not only that, but there's a new family that came to town. I think they're called the Wolfes or Wolf. For heaven's sake, I don't know! But, can you believe it? New money! How atrocious!" Her words fell onto each other, her tone picking up volume and sped throughout her monologue.

Aspen mentally rolled her eyes but she forced a polite smile on her face, her stomach growling in hunger. "Why is that such an issue?"

"You look frail Miss. Here's an apple," the maid in front of her said meekly.

She believed her name was Lillian, a pretty freckled girl, merely two years older than her. She smiled softly at Aspen then hurried away back to her mother's side.

Julius Berkshire sat at the head of the table with a fresh cup of black coffee in his right hand and a newspaper in the left, which his face was currently buried in. "Good morning father." She bent over to kiss his cheek.

"Good morning," he mumbled before even looking up.

"Are you sick, Aspen?" her father asked peering behind his black-rimmed glasses.

She nibbled on the apple, not really tasting the flavor. "No, I'm not. School just got me swamped, that's all."

"I do hope you're doing well in school, sweetheart," her mother piped in. "After graduation, we need to start planning the wedding."

"What?" Aspen shot up, her tone incredulous. "Already? B-but you promised after college."

Julius laid a hand over hers. "Yeah, we know. But we've decided it would much be better to do it now rather than later. Imagine the power of joining our families together." He had a mystical look in his eye when speaking the last sentence.

Aspen was at a loss for words. Her fate had been carved into her flesh at birth. It wasn't that she despised Cyrus. It was the exact opposite really. She would always remember his I-love-yous between every rhythmic beat of her heart, their sloppy first kiss shared under the teary moon near the ivy covered fountain in his manor (his lips had tasted like honey-coated sorrow and sweat) and her fondest, bittersweet memory was of him going down to his knees and presenting the ring on his calloused palms. A foolish yes spilled out from her lips before she could stop it. It was foolish of Aspen to agree but they both knew the reason they were going through with this. It was their duty.

She knew they wouldn't listen to her reasoning but she decided to try. "But, I wanted to go to college first."

"Sweetheart," her mother snapped. "You'll always have the opportunity to go to college." Then a sickenly sweet smile pulled at her lips. "But, after your wedding of course."

Suddenly Aspen lost all taste for the apple and tossed it in the bin. "Cyrus will be a lovely husband." Her father patted her shoulder and stood up, folding his newspaper.

"Now what are we to do about the Wolfe's? We can't accept such heathens into our town, do we?," Her mother spat out.

Julius took out his glasses and rubbed his eyes. "Why don't we invite them to the ball?"

Her mother gaped. "Julius! But why?"

"Think about it. We get to see what the competition's all about."

Her mother pondered for a moment. "I guess that's a clever tactic."

Whilst they discussed amongst themselves, another maid entered the room. She cleared her throat, making her presence known. "Mr. Cyrus Rothschild is outside."

"Brilliant," her mother intoned. She walked to Aspen and placed a kiss on her forehead. "Have a good day, sweetheart."

Her father nodded absent-mindely, still deep in thought. "Focus on your studies."

"I will." She waved them goodbye and hurried outside where Cyrus's sleek black 1958 Chevrolet Corvette Convertible was parked. She opened the passenger door and was easily pulled into an ongoing conversation.

"The contrast between the people resigned to their fate and those in chaos was astounding," Myron claimed from the backseat, a cigarette stuck to his lips like glue. Aspen turned her nose in disgust but he merely laughed, blowing a cloud of nicotine in her face.

"Yes, but the ending was utter trash," Cyrus retorted.

"No, it wasn't."

"Yes it was."

"No—"

Aspen turned sideways. "What are you guys even talking about?"

Myron gasped as if offended. "Only the greatest masterpiece in cinematic history."

"Which is?" She raised a dark brow to his vague response.

"The one and only Titanic. How are we friends, Aspen? C'mon." He pulled out his leather bound journal and flipped through the ink-stained papers, clearly done with the conversation.

Cyrus gave a quiet laugh and his fingers drummed against the steering wheel. Aspen leaned back in her seat as they drove. The car was silent and she finally felt relaxed.

Aspen, Cyrus and Myron, they were an unstoppable trio. And who could blame them? They had no choice but to spend every waking moment together. They were all pure bloods and direct descendants of the founding families and conceived and bred into a world of elitism. They had been stuck at each other's sides from a very tender age. From running along the manors with scraped knees and missing teeth to huddling in the libraries reading classical novels by the candlelights.

"Penny for your thoughts?" Cyrus took her hand and kissed her knuckles. Her ring finger which held the small yet priceless diamond ring sent an intimate heat coursing through her.

She absent-mindedly played with a loose thread from her sweater. "It's my mother."

"Is it about our wedding?"

"You knew?" She shot up, sitting straighter in the passenger seat.

His eyes flickered between the road and her. "I only found out this morning. My mother told me."

"How do you feel about it?"

Cyrus shrugged. "It makes no difference to me whether we get married now or in the near future." A crooked smirk surfaced on his face. "As long as I get to be with you."

Myron groaned behind them, still flicking through crinkled pages.

Aspen laughed and turned towards the slumped boy. "Where's your car, Myron?"

A dark look flashed across his features. "It's home. I slept over at Cyrus' last night." He shoved his journal into his back pocket of his jeans and looked out at the passing scenery, a strand of hair falling onto his forehead. "And I'll probably be there for a while now."

Aspen decided to drop the subject. After years of knowing Myron, she knew the young boy would never open up to her, at least not sober.

The school coming into view pulled her away from her thoughts. When they arrived in the parking lot, Cyrus brought the car to a halt. He observed her for a brief moment until he leaned closer and his mouth met hers in a gentle kiss.

Myron gagged audibly. "Really? While I'm here? Wow." He exited the car and closed the door with a slam. Aspen giggled as he jogged away from the car. Cyrus pulled away from her with a frown.

"What's wrong?" she asked.

He ran a finger over her cherry-glossed lips. "Is that makeup?"

"It's just lipgloss."

"You know how I feel about makeup." He grasped her cheeks, wiping the sticky substance with his thumb. "A woman's essence is only her natural beauty."

Blush crept at her cheeks. She wanted to look away in shame but his grip on her face forbade her from doing so. He released his hold and murmured in a honeyed tone, "I don't approve of artificial products to hide your beauty. Will you do that again?" When she didn't respond, he murmured, "Aspen, would you do it again?"

After a moment of heated silence, she sighed, "No, I won't."

He tugged her into his arms. "Good," he said, lips grazing the soft shell of her ear.

She pulled away, saying, "I'm heading to class. I'll see you later, okay?"

And he gave a scythe of a smile that sliced her chest gaping open. She became transfixed on the smile but shook her head and rushed out the car. Her mind was spiralling with thoughts when a sharp pain erupted in her shoulders.

"Ah, I'm so sorry. Are you okay?" Aspen nervously twiddled with her fingers.

"I'm alright, thanks. I should be asking you that." The unfamiliar girl that she'd just bumped into stood before her rendered her speechless. She was the quintessence of desire with all soft curves and an even softer smile. She must have plagued every pitiful boys' (perhaps even girls') dreams with thoughts of her blood-stained lips and shimmering long hair. The inspiration for every abandoned love letter.

"Kallisto Wolfe." She stretched her perfectly manicured hand.

Wolfe. That name sounded familiar to her.

"I'm Aspen Berkshire." She shook her hand.

"Ah," Kallisto mused. "Your family must be one of the founders."

Then, Aspen could suddenly recall why her name was so familiar. "And you're the new girl in town."

"Well..." She twirled a strand of her hair. "My sister and I. She's around here somewhere. Probably painting in a corner, who knows?" She shrugged.

"How are you liking the town so far?" Aspen checked the time on her phone. She had a couple minutes to kill before the tardy bell rung.

Kallisto looked bored, hands on the sweet curve of her hips. "Interesting. Not really my type." A grin crawled onto her face. "I'm more of a city kind of girl. Loud noises, flashing lights. This town is too dull for my tastes."

Aspen chuckled. "I guess you could say that. But it's perfect to me. It's home." Then the tardy bell rang. "Oh shit, It was nice meeting you. I gotta go."

"See you around, Aspen."

──────

"I admire Austen's work, especially Pride and Prejudice. The eighteenth and nineteenth century was known for having a patriarchal society ruled by men. However, despite those odds, Austen wrote strongly about feminine beliefs which she portrayed through her characters. I believe I have no choice but to respect that," Olivia said, with crossed legs.

Aspen was drawn to her fishnet covered legs and wished she could pull off such an edgy look.

The collision of chalkboard dust and the sweet fragrance of the honey sweetened tea filled the air as the pretentious teens gathered around in a tightly knit circle with their eccentric professor in the middle. In their hands, they all held classic editions of Pride and Prejudice.

Professor Bishop raised their tea cup to their lips before taking a delicate sip, then sighed. "There is a stubbornness about me that never can bear to be frightened at the will of others. My courage always rises with every attempt to intimidate me. Elizabeth Bennett. Quick-witted with a sharp tongue, wouldn't you agree?"

"She expressed individuality and refused to conform to society," Aspen piped in. "Too often others conform to society rather than follow their own paths and pursue their own personal desires."

"It's because they're too afraid to. If we stray onto our own paths, society will do nothing but deem us as outcasts. I guess that's why Elizabeth Bennett is such a well-liked character, she wasn't afraid." Luca looked away bashfully, scratching the nape of his neck. Aspen caught his eye and shot him a grateful smile.

His face became heated and he quickly averted his eyes.

Myron saw all this and rolled his eyes. Aspen raised a brow, wondering what was that all about. Before she could ponder about it further, a posh accent rang out. "Pride and Prejudice is intolerable."

"Excuse me?" Olivia hardened her gaze on the imperious boy.

"Of course, this is your opinion. But, please enlighten us as to why you would believe that." Bishop placed their empty tea cup in their lap, giving Alaric their full attention.

He shrugged. "I'm just saying, what makes Elizabeth so special, hm? So what if she was witty and had sharp remarks? She wasn't like the other girls, I'll give her that. Maybe it could be her pride. During the book, from what I could recall. Honestly, it was a bit of a drag to get into." He laughed at himself. "She did nothing admirable but refused Mr. Darcy's countless advances. Why was she such a well liked character? She did all that yet in the end, she became like all those other girls in society and married the man! Makes no sense to me. I would like to know how exactly did she refuse to conform to society."

Olivia scoffed. "Well, dimwit, Elizabeth had inner strength and sensibility. She held her values over anything else. Though I have to agree that she made a few mistakes due to her own judgement, she was still incisive most of the time. It was hard being a woman at her time. Hell, it's hard being a woman now."

"Women should just stick to their roles," Alaric drawled.

"You sound a bit sexist there, Rick." Myron cocked a brow.

"You can't be serious," Olivia gritted out, her nail digging into her thighs. Fire ignited in her eyes. She looked like she wanted to pounce on him, but she stayed rooted to her spot.

"Relax, Olivia." Cyrus rolled his eyes. "Everyone's entitled to their own opinion."

Aspen gaped at him. "Cyrus—"

"God. You can't be serious." Olivia gave a harsh laugh. "I can't say I'm surprised at the two self-entitled white boys not to be sexist."

"I never said I was sexist. I'm just saying that everyone has a right to say what they believe."

"The one time you decide to speak up, you decide to retort this bullshit. Please shut up."

"Alrighty then." Bishop clapped their hands. "That's it for today. This was a very interesting session. We shall discuss this another time and delve on the matter further. However, unfortunately time has run out. Have a splendid day everyone!"

They all piled out leisurely, except Olivia, who marched out angrily. Luca cornered Myron and they spoke in whispers. Myron seethed, whilst Luca cowered slightly away from him. Aspen wondered if they were friends since she'd never seen them interact before.

"Come." The saccharine whisper glided in her ears, making her shiver. Cyrus held her hand and together they walked to the parking lot. It was five p.m. and the school was empty.

He swung her around so she could meet his eye. "Have you forgiven me for earlier?"

"Did you apologize?"

He played with her loose braid, peeking at her. "I'm sorry," he breathed.

"Hm, I don't know if I'm quite ready to forgive you yet." Mischief danced in her eyes as she rubbed her chin thoughtfully.

"I know what would change your mind." Then, suddenly he tugged her and kissed her harshly until she swore she tasted stars. His hand was searing hot on her thigh, trailed upwards, dangerously hovering over the waistband of her underwear.

She pulled back from his kiss and gripped his wrist, halting his movement. "Can we stop?" Her eyes flickered around the empty parking lot. "Anyone could walk on us."

A crooked smile quirked at his lip. "Fuck everyone." His mouth met hers for a second time. They kissed feverishly, her hand wound up in his hair, musing the dark locks. Lifting her by the waist, he placed her on the hood of the car. She locked her legs around his slim waist.

Breaking away with greedy gulps, she said. "We should really stop, Cyrus. We could get caught."

"Christ." He sighed. "Don't be such a wuss, Aspen. We won't."

"My my, aren't you horny rabbits?" Alaric appeared through the backdoor, carrying his leather satchel over his shoulders. "Couldn't wait until you get home? Ah, to be young and in love."

Cyrus carefully placed Aspen to her feet, fixing her skirt. He turned to Alaric and sighed. "Can you just leave, Rick?"

Alaric raised his hand in defense. "Okay, okay. I'm heading off." He chuckled, walking away, then paused and swiveled on the balls of his feet. "Oh, yeah. The funny thing about young love is it never lasts as long as we wish. Anyway, who am I to spread such lies when I've never been in love, ha. Ignore me." He waved and departed from them.

Cyrus pinched the bridge of his nose. "I'm getting really tired of him."

His words still rang inside her head.

It never lasts as long as we wish.

"Hey, I hope you're not seriously listening to him." He lowered his head and kissed the corner of her lips. "Aspen, I love you like Icarus loves the sun."

But, what they fail to realize is, the sun only ended up hurting him.

──────

author note

edited by: insistency (she's so amazing, no seriously, thank God for her. Please check out her account )

honestly, I can't remember all the details from pride and prejudice, so please don't call me out haha, but I'll appreciate if you point out if I got a few details wrong about it.

Also sorry for the long wait but I didn't like this chapter but I was like fck it. I'm sorry if the story seem dragging..but there's much more to go. So stay patient:)