After work, Nevaeh found herself staring at her reflection in the mirror, lost in thought. The warmth of Mordred's embrace, the way he looked at her like she was the only one in the world—it all played in her mind like a scene from a dream. And for a moment, she allowed herself to bask in it, to believe that maybe, just maybe, she could be happy with him.
But then, the doubt crept in. A cruel, familiar whisper in the back of her mind.
What if it was all temporary? What if Mordred had only wanted her for one night, and now that he had gotten what he wanted, he would move on? He was a superstar, constantly surrounded by models and glamorous women who could offer him so much more than she ever could. What made her think she was special?
Her chest tightened as memories of her past surfaced, raw and painful. Her ex-boyfriend had once made her believe in love too. He had showered her with sweet words, painted a future full of promises—only to rip it away the moment he got what he wanted. The heartbreak had shattered her, leaving behind a wound that never fully healed.
And now, she had let it happen again.
Tears welled in her eyes as she clenched her fists, anger and regret twisting inside her. "How could I be so stupid?" she whispered harshly to herself. "I should've known better."
She hated herself in that moment—hated that she had let her guard down, that she had allowed herself to feel something real. But she wouldn't make the same mistake twice.
Wiping away her tears, she made up her mind. She would push Mordred away before he had the chance to hurt her. It was the only way to protect herself.
---
Mordred wasn't backing off. If there was one thing he was certain of, it was how he felt about Nevaeh. He had never chased anyone before, never felt the need to. But Nevaeh had changed everything. She had changed him.
When she ignored his calls and left his texts unanswered, he refused to accept it. He wasn't going to lose her to her own fears. So, he did the only thing he could—he went to her.
His manager had hesitated before giving him Nevaeh's address, warning him that showing up uninvited might not be a good idea. But Mordred didn't care. He needed to see her. He needed answers.
---
The knocking on her door was relentless. Nevaeh wiped her face quickly, hoping whoever it was would go away. But the knocking continued, stronger, more urgent.
She sighed in frustration and pulled the door open. And there he was.
Mordred stood in front of her, his eyes filled with determination, his expression unreadable. Nevaeh's breath hitched. She had tried to prepare for this, tried to convince herself that pushing him away was the right thing to do. But now that he was standing here, so close, so real, her resolve wavered.
"What are you doing here?" she asked, crossing her arms to mask the shaking in her voice.
"Trying to figure out why the hell you're shutting me out," Mordred said, stepping forward. "Did I do something wrong? Because if I did, tell me. Don't just disappear."
Nevaeh let out a bitter laugh. "You didn't do anything, Mordred. You got what you wanted, right? So why are you here?"
His brows furrowed. "What the hell are you talking about?"
She scoffed, looking away. "I'm not stupid. I know how this works. Guys like you… you take what you want and move on. I was just another moment of fun for you."
Mordred clenched his jaw, his hands balling into fists at his sides. "You really think that low of me? You think if I just wanted a night with you, I'd be standing here? Chasing after you like a damn fool?"
Nevaeh swallowed hard, her heart pounding. "I don't know what to think, Mordred. All I know is I've been here before, and I refuse to be used again."
Mordred exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair. "Nevaeh… you mean something to me. Hell, you mean everything to me. And I don't know how to make you believe that. But you have to know… you've changed me."
She blinked at him, confusion flickering in her eyes. "Changed you?"
Mordred stepped closer, his voice softer now. "You made me feel something real. I don't want the empty parties, the fake smiles, the meaningless flings. I want you."
Nevaeh bit her lip, tears threatening to fall again. "I don't want to get hurt, Mordred."
"Then don't run," he whispered. "Stay. Let me prove to you that I'm not like him. That this isn't just another fling."
Nevaeh searched his eyes, looking for any hint of deception, but all she found was raw sincerity. Her walls, the ones she had so desperately rebuilt, started to crumble.
Slowly, hesitantly, she reached for him. Mordred didn't move, afraid that if he did, she would pull away. But then, to his surprise, she wrapped her arms around him, pressing her face into his chest.
Mordred let out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding, his arms circling her tightly. He held her as if she might disappear, as if letting go wasn't an option.
Nevaeh closed her eyes, allowing herself to sink into the moment, to believe—for just a little while—that maybe, just maybe, this time would be different.