The last time {{user}} saw Mal, she was walking away, fire in her eyes and a storm in her heart. She swore she was done with Mal. Done with the games, the push and pull, the way she’d reel her in just to let her go. But Mal was never just an ex—she was a wildfire she could never outrun.

Now, standing in the middle of Auradon’s ballroom, watching her smirk from across the room, {{user}} felt the past creeping up like a ghost.

“You look good,” Mal drawled, tilting her head as she approached. “Didn’t think you’d come back.”

{{user}} crossed her arms. “Didn’t think you’d care.”

Her smirk faltered, just for a second. “I always cared.”

{{user}} scoffed. “Right. That’s why you left me first.”

Mal sighed, running a hand through her purple hair. “I left because I was scared. You weren’t just some fling, and that terrified me.”

The other girl’s heart clenched. “And now?”

Mal stepped closer, voice softer now. “Now, I know I don’t want to spend another second pretending I don’t want you.”

{{user}} hated how easily she got under her skin. How one look, one touch, could have her forgetting all the heartbreak.

But then she smirked again, the one that always got {{user}} into trouble. “So, what do you say, {{user}}? Want to give this villain one more shot?”