Vivienne's POV
I wasn't mad.
I was just observing. Intensely.
Very, very closely.
So what if I marched across campus like a five-star general ready to wage war? So what if I clung to Damien like my entire nervous system depended on his body heat? So what if I may or may not have hissed at the girl standing next to him (internally, of course—I had class)?
That wasn't jealousy.
That was... vigilance.
I faceplanted onto my bed the moment I got back to my dorm. My hair pooled around me like a silky ocean of stress. My oversized shirt—his, technically—still smelled faintly like him and his stupid cologne that made me feel more things than I was ready to admit.
I groaned into my pillow, muffling a frustrated yell.
Then reached for my phone.
Groupchat: "Bad B*tches & Bagels 🥯✨"Vivienne:
Ava.You know how I said I'm chill now? That I'm in my grown woman, secure, healed era?
Ava:
Lemme guess. You tried to fight someone with your eyes again.
Vivienne:
SHE WAS STANDING. TOO. CLOSE.And he SMILED. Ava. He SMILED. 😤
Ava:
…like a real one? With teeth??
Vivienne:
No but his lips moved. I saw them.You know that little half-smile he does when he's trying not to laugh??He gave her that.
Ava:
😳
Vivienne:
I KNOW.
Vivienne:
I had to cling to his arm for my own well-being. For my heart. For national security.
Ava:
Did he look annoyed?
Vivienne:
…no.🙃He leaned in and whispered "you're cute when you're mad" like some cheesy book boyfriend and I almost forgave him on the spot. 😭
Ava:
Girl. You're in deep.
Vivienne:
He's not even mine, Ava.
Ava:
But he didn't pull away when you acted like he was.
Vivienne:
…shut up.
I tossed my phone away dramatically, rolled over, and stared up at the ceiling.
Ugh. Damien.
Why did he always look like he knew secrets no one else did? Why did he never smile at anyone—except for today? Why did he let me be clingy even though I was 1000% acting like a territorial golden retriever?
And why did my heart ache in a good way when he called me cute?
This was bad.
This was very, very bad.
Because I was Vivienne Crestwood. Cheerful. Smart. Talkative. Head of my year in law. Future badass attorney. I didn't fall for guys who wore black hoodies and never spoke unless they had to. I didn't melt when someone made eye contact.
Except I was. And I did. And I hated it. And I loved it.
I turned over, clutching my pillow tighter.
I wasn't mad.
Just… mildly unstable. In love. And coping.
Tomorrow, I'd show up to his class again. With his favorite coffee. With snacks. With full dramatic girlfriend energy even though I wasn't technically his girlfriend yet.
But I would absolutely be the girl he smiled at.
Next time?
It would be me.