Fantasy

Her back hit the door with a soft thud, and for a moment, we just looked at each other. The air between us was thick with smoke and tequila, with something heavier lurking beneath. Elena's eyes searched mine, her breath coming fast.

I didn't think. I didn't want to.

I kissed her hard.

She responded immediately, her hands threading into my hair, pulling me closer. My fingers skimmed over her waist, gripping the soft fabric of her dress as I deepened the kiss, tasting the remnants of rum and something sweet on her lips.

Elena sighed into me, tilting her head to give me more, and I took it. Took the distraction, the numbness, the temporary escape. I let my hands wander, feeling the warmth of her skin beneath my fingertips.

She moaned softly against my mouth, and the sound sent a thrill through me. But it wasn't the same.

Not deep enough.

Not her.

I squeezed my eyes shut and forced the thought away, dragging my lips down to her neck, pressing slow, open-mouthed kisses against her pulse. Elena arched into me, breath hitching.

"Lena," she murmured, her voice a little breathless.

I hummed in response, my hands gripping her hips.

She pulled back slightly, eyes flickering over my face. "You okay?"

I blinked, caught off guard.

Was I?

No.

But I wasn't about to say that.

So I smirked, tracing a slow line up her arm with my fingers. "I'm more than okay."

She grinned and pulled me back in.

We kissed, pressed up against the door, the bass from the party thrumming through the walls.

But it wasn't long before it happened—

A sharp knock.

Loud.

Insistent.

I stiffened.

"Elena?"

No. Not her name.

Mine.

Stefani's voice was clear, even through the heavy music outside.

Elena and I froze.

I pulled away slowly, my breath uneven.

Another knock. "Lena, open the door."

Elena looked at me, brow raised. "You wanna get that?"

I swallowed. My stomach twisted.

No, I didn't want to get that.

I stepped back, running a hand through my hair.

"I..." I hesitated, then exhaled. "Yeah. Give me a second."

Elena smirked, clearly amused, before leaning in to press a lingering kiss to my jaw. "I'll be out there," she murmured before slipping past me and out the door.

I steeled myself before opening it all the way.

Stefani stood there, arms crossed, eyes dark and unreadable.

The hallway felt suffocating.

She glanced behind me, toward where Elena had just left, then met my gaze again.

I braced myself.

"What the fuck are you doing?" she asked

Stefani didn't hesitate. She stepped forward and slammed the door shut behind her, locking us in. The bass of the music outside felt a million miles away now, drowned out by the heavy silence between us.

I clenched my jaw and turned away, pressing my palms into the sink, staring at my reflection in the mirror. My lips were swollen, my pupils blown, the ghost of Elena's touch still on my skin. I didn't want to look at Stefani.

But I could feel her.

Her anger. Her frustration.

Her pain.

"What the fuck are you doing?" she repeated, her voice sharper now, cutting into me like a blade.

I scoffed, shaking my head. "You already asked me that."

"Yeah, and you didn't answer."

I exhaled through my nose, still refusing to meet her eyes. "I don't owe you an answer."

She let out a bitter laugh. "Really? Because just a day ago we were—"

I turned to face her, eyes burning. "We were what, Stefani?"

She faltered for half a second, but she squared her shoulders. "We were something. Don't act like we weren't. Don't stand here and pretend like it didn't mean anything—"

"It didn't mean anything," I cut her off, my voice cold. "It wasn't real. We weren't living in the real world."

She took a step forward, her breath unsteady. "That's bullshit."

"No, it's not."

"Then tell me, Lena," she said, voice rising. "Tell me why it felt real. Tell me why—"

"Because it was a fucking fantasy!" I snapped, hands balling into fists. "That's all it was. Just some... fleeting, stupid, meaningless thing."

Stefani inhaled sharply like I'd struck her.

A muscle in her jaw twitched.

Her voice was quieter when she spoke again. "You don't believe that."

I laughed humorlessly, shaking my head. "Of course I do. Why wouldn't I?"

She took another step forward, and suddenly she was too close. Too close, and yet I could still feel the space between us like a gaping wound.

Her gaze searched mine, eyes pleading now, but I refused to give her anything.

"You're lying," she whispered.

I swallowed against the lump in my throat. "Then believe whatever you want."

Silence stretched between us, thick and suffocating.

Her breathing was uneven. My pulse was hammering.

For a second, I thought she might touch me.

For a second, I wanted her to.

But then, she just shook her head, biting the inside of her cheek like she was trying not to say something she'd regret.

She reached for the door, unlocked it, and pulled it open.

And then, without another word, she was gone. 

I slammed the bathroom door behind me, my breath uneven as I ran a hand through my hair. My whole body was tense, my chest tight with anger, disappointment—whatever this feeling was, it was eating me alive.

I shouldn't have let my guard down.

Not for her.

Not for a girl who only wanted me in the dark, in whispers, in stolen moments behind locked doors. A girl who claimed there was something real between us, only to step right back into her boyfriend's arms the moment the sun came up.

I sniffed hard, reached for the counter, and dipped my head down, dragging another line through my system. The burn was sharp, fast, numbing. I left the rest on the counter for later and wiped my nose, shaking off the weight pressing down on me.

If she wanted to pretend, then I could pretend too.

The music outside was loud as I walked back into the party, the bass vibrating through my bones. Laughter, conversation, the clink of glasses—it was all background noise, static against the real thing.

Stefani.

I spotted her on the dance floor almost immediately, and my stomach turned at the sight.

Taylor's hands were firm around her waist, pulling her against him as they swayed to the beat. She was moving, but she wasn't really there. She didn't look at me. Not even once.

Fine.

I let my gaze shift through the crowd until I found Elena, still lounging on the couch where I'd left her, a lazy, flirty smile on her lips.

I didn't say anything. I just held out my hand.

She took it without hesitation.

I pulled her onto the dance floor, our bodies pressing together easily. The music pulsed through me, through us, and it didn't take long before our movements became something more deliberate.

Closer.

Slower.

Elena's hands trailed down my sides, and I leaned into her touch, letting her fingertips scrape against my skin. My lips hovered just above hers, teasing, and she let out a soft laugh before pulling me in, capturing my mouth with hers.

It wasn't gentle.

It wasn't careful.

It was messy, urgent, intentional.

And I knew exactly who was watching.

The thought sent a thrill through my veins, and I deepened the kiss, letting my hands roam lower. Elena sighed against my lips, arching into me, and I knew she wanted more.

Then—

A tap on my shoulder.

I pulled back, blinking, my breath heavy as I turned.

Stefani.

Her brown eyes were glassy, her lips parted slightly like she wanted to say something, but for a moment, nothing came out.

Then, finally, in a voice too soft for the chaos around us, she said, "Maybe you should go."

I stared at her, at the way her bottom lip trembled just enough for me to notice.

She wanted me to stop.

She wanted me to walk away.

I let the silence stretch, let her wait for an answer I had no intention of giving her.

Then, finally, I turned back to Elena and smirked.

"In a minute."

Stefani's expression barely changed, but something flickered behind her eyes, something that looked like hurt.

Good.

I turned my attention back to Elena, pulling her closer, moving with her through the music, through the heat of the moment. I let myself get lost in it, in the way her hands traveled, the way she clung to me, how she whispered in my ear that she wanted to go somewhere private.

I didn't hesitate.

With one last glance toward Stefani—her fists clenched at her sides, her eyes locked onto mine—I reached down, grabbed Elena's legs, and lifted her up, making her laugh as she wrapped her arms around my neck.

And then I walked away.

Stefani didn't stop me.

Didn't say another word.

She just watched.

I carried Elena to my room, kicked the door shut behind us, and let the night swallow me whole.