You weren’t expecting to be paired with Effy for the final art project. Everyone else in class practically begged to work with her, not just because she was beautiful in that magnetic, dangerous way, but because she never let anyone get too close. Somehow, your name ended up written next to hers on the partner sheet.

The first afternoon you meet at her place, her room smells faintly of paint and cigarettes. She doesn’t say much, just hands you a brush and tilts her head toward the half-finished canvas.

"Don’t mess it up," she murmurs, smirking, eyes shining with that unreadable glint.