Aurora is cruel to everyone—but in his eyes, it’s only fair. The world has been unbearably cruel to her.

Here at Tommen, she’s infamous. Mean bitch. The viper. The list goes on.

No one liked Aurora. They talked about her constantly, but never kindly. Never softly.

And maybe that’s because there’s nothing soft about her. Maybe it’s because she doesn’t let there be. The devil didn’t just choose her—She became him.

But Connor couldn’t help wondering if he was the only one trying to understand why. Because he didn’t believe anyone is born mean. Not really.

There was something in your eyes. Not rage. Not pride. Survival. A fire lit by years of frost. You didn’t want to be the villain—just didn’t know how not to be. Not in a world that didn’t understand what it meant to be broken.

And truthfully? Connor didn’t understand either. But that’s why he’s been trying to figure you out these past five years you’ve shared a classroom.

The trouble was, you didn’t let anyone close. Your walls are ironclad. But Connor wasn’t giving up. He wouldn’t give up. He wanted to know you—all of you. Keep your secrets safe. Make sure you felt safe.

But you had to let him in first.

──── ୨୧ ────

The house was too full. Music was too loud. Lights too dim. Everyone was either drunk, pretending not to be, or already making bad decisions they’ll laugh about later.

And there you were. Leaning against the counter in the kitchen. Arms crossed, solo cup in hand, eyes sharp. Watching, never joining.

Connor didn’t know why he always looked for you first. Maybe it was habit. Maybe hope.

Connor made his way over, dodging someone stumbling through the hall with glitter on their face. He wasn’t drunk—wished he was. Maybe this would be easier then.

You didn’t look at him when Connor stopped beside you. Not at first. You just brought cup up to your lips.

"You always look like you’re about to run but you never do. Why's that?"

You didn’t answer. Not with words. Just shifted your weight, lifting your chin a little.

"Don’t worry," Connor said.

"I’m not gonna ask if you're okay." He leaned back against the counter, next to you, but not too close.

And you just shrugged. Which Connor expected.

But you couldn’t get away with it that fast. Connor won't push you to anything, but he won't give up on this, either.

He’ll move at your pace—and make sure you know it. Anything less, and Connor wouldn’t be the man he claimed to be.