Sera POV
Vixzen, quieter now, tilted her head, voice low but steady.
"So… that call earlier. You okay? If it's alright to ask."
The words didn't come immediately.
Seraphine's smile tugged upward out of habit, but the corner of her lip wobbled before it held.
The lace at her wrist — blush pink, soft and neatly tied — gave a small tremble as she twisted her hands together in her lap.
It wasn't dramatic. It wasn't cinematic.
It was worse.
It was quiet.
The room changed — not by volume, but by intention.
No teasing. No smirks. No commentary about silk or shifters.
Just stillness.
Waiting.
She exhaled through her nose like she was blowing dust off a memory she didn't want anymore.
"I didn't know where to start," she said softly. "Still don't. So... I'll just jump in."
No one interrupted.
"I dated Jack for five years. It was the kind of relationship where you keep convincing yourself the problems are temporary because you already spent so much time convincing yourself you're happy."
A pause.
Her voice was level. Not cold — just cautious. Like she'd practiced saying this before in her head, but never aloud.
"And Jill... she was my best friend. Or whatever that's supposed to mean when someone treats you like a clearance sale — take whatever they want, return nothing."
Seraphine stared at a speck on the carpet, not really seeing it.
"She could buy anything she wanted. Rich. Family money. Custom everything. But she'd always 'borrow' my clothes. My makeup. My shoes. Never returned them. Ever. But if I even touched one of her scarves, it'd be a three-act opera about betrayal."
"Wow," Vixzen murmured, voice pitched soft. Not sarcastic.
Seraphine smiled weakly. "It gets dumber."
She rubbed her thumb across her palm, slow and methodical.
"Things were already… weird. I mean, I wasn't stupid. There were signs. Weird calls. Gut feelings. But I didn't want to be that person, you know? So I chalked it up to stress or paranoia or my own insecurity."
She paused again, lips parting, then closing. Then continuing anyway.
"They threw me a birthday party. Big event. All my friends, candles, the whole thing. And right in the middle of it—Jill announced that she and Jack were dating."
No one breathed.
"While I was still dating Jack," she added with a dry laugh. "Apparently, they thought I'd just… understand."
"Understand what?" Vivien asked softly.
"That they were in love. That they 'didn't mean for it to happen.' That maybe it could just be a modern thing — we could all be... poly."
"And were you?" Liora asked, voice neutral.
"No."
Another laugh. It cracked this time.
"But Jill made sure all night to make it clear he was hers. Her arm was always wrapped around his. She kept saying things like 'isn't this perfect?' And he just stood there. Didn't even look at me."
Silence.
"I held it together," Seraphine said finally, voice small. "Smiled. Thanked people for coming. Cut the cake. Sang along with the music. I made sure every guest had a gift bag."
"And then I went home. Alone. And I didn't sleep for three days."
A beat passed.
"I think what hurt the most wasn't even the betrayal. It was realizing… no one noticed. Not a single person saw anything wrong. Not even the people who knew us best. I was just expected to be okay. Because I always am."
She looked up. And for the first time that night, she didn't joke or smirk or dodge.
"I am so tired of holding things together for people who wouldn't even hold the door for me."
Vixzen looked like someone had just handed her an unsolvable math problem wrapped in guilt and silk. She shifted forward and wordlessly adjusted the strap of Seraphine's top where it had slipped.
Liora, not saying a word, brushed a single strand of hair behind Seraphine's ear and leaned her shoulder into hers.
Vivien didn't speak either.
She poured tea into a fresh cup, slid it across the coffee table, then sat beside her. Not touching. Just close.
Seraphine didn't cry.
She laughed — once, brittle and cracked — and her eyes glassed over.
It almost broke her face into a sob, but she forced it back.
"I'm not good at breaking down," she whispered. "I don't like mess."
"Honey," Liora murmured gently, "you're surrounded by messes in silk."
Vixzen grinned, nudging her with a thigh. "Exactly. It's beautiful."
The tea sat untouched.
Not because no one wanted it — but because everyone was too still to move. Like the hush after thunder.
Then Liora, softly but with unmistakable purpose, said:
"Okay. Fair exchange."
Seraphine blinked.
Liora cracked a smile — lopsided, a little embarrassed. "We don't just take your soul and give you a makeover without giving something back."
She flopped onto her stomach on the couch, arms folded beneath her chin like a teenager plotting revenge.
"You wanna know why I wear thousand-dollar heels and make interns cry?" she asked.
Vixzen nodded solemnly. "Yes. Deeply."
"Because when I was twelve," Liora said, "I used to eat lunch in a janitor's closet to avoid the girls who said my laugh sounded like a dying flute and that I looked like a failed Barbie doll."
Seraphine's brows lifted. "That's oddly specific."
"I still don't know what it means," Liora said. "But I took it personally."
Vivien tilted her head. "You do laugh like a vengeful banshee during Mercury retrograde."
Liora shot her a death glare. Vivien sipped her tea without remorse.
Vixzen raised a hand. "Hi. My turn."
She pulled a throw pillow into her lap like a comfort shield and inhaled through her nose dramatically.
"I'm Vixzen. You may know me from such hits as 'How to Hack a Government Without Pants' and 'Why I Have No Friends.'"
Seraphine gave a half-laugh. "That last one's not a bestseller."
Vixzen smiled thinly. "I've always been… weird. Too much for some, not enough for others. People liked me when they needed something. Help with code. A distraction. A tech fix. But once I stopped being useful, I stopped being visible."
She traced a finger along the pillow seam.
"I thought if I was chaotic enough, loud enough, clever enough… people wouldn't notice I didn't really fit. Spoiler alert: they noticed."
Vivien gave her a long look. Then leaned over and gently, almost absently, tugged the pillow a little closer to Vixzen's chest. Vixzen didn't let go.
Vivien set her teacup down. Her voice was smooth — not rehearsed, just familiar from having said it to herself too many times.
"I only got handed my family's business after it had already failed. Siphoned dry. My 'inheritance' was a burning building they wanted me to smile about."
She tucked one leg beneath the other. "I built it back. Alone. I made the calls. I hired people who hated me. I didn't sleep for two years."
She looked at them, deadpan.
"I'm very tired. My therapist says I should try yoga."
Vixzen held up a finger. "Follow-up question: do you sleep in heels?"
Vivien didn't blink. "Yes."
Liora snorted. "Of course you do."
The mood had softened — not by forgetting, but by the simple act of sharing.
Then—
Vixzen clapped her hands, jolting the air. "Okay. Enough depressing shit. It's gonna wrinkle the lingerie. New topic: any men in our lives?"
Every single woman froze.
Three very conspicuous silences.
Vixzen pointed around like she was hosting a game show. "Don't you dare hold out on me. You know I can smell secrets."
Vivien lifted her tea again. "You also said that about gluten, and then passed out from a croissant."
"That was one time," Vixzen whispered. "And it was buttery betrayal."
"No deflecting!" she declared. "Spill! Vivien, you first. You've been blushing on and off since earlier."
Vivien blinked. "I have not."
"You have blush indicators like an old car dashboard," Vixzen said. "That was a transmission of guilt."
Seraphine watched in amusement as Vivien actually… hesitated. Like she was calculating which NDA she might be breaking.
"I'm not really sure," Vivien finally said. "There are… men. Plural. Who've tried. Persistent ones. Some with more charm than sense."
"And?" Liora said, not even pretending not to be taking mental notes.
Vivien took a breath like she was starting a TED Talk.
"One's an angel. Technically my butler, but also terrifyingly competent and very smug."
"Hot," Vixzen muttered.
"Another is an incubus. Of course."
"Obviously," Liora nodded.
"And the last," Vivien added, glaring slightly, "is a dragon shifter with a god complex and zero sense of personal space."
"Who's face were you imagining when you punched that pillow earlier?" Liora asked, deadly calm.
Vivien lobbed the same pillow at her head.
"Your turn," she said smugly.
Liora adjusted her crown of sarcasm.
"I don't need men."
Everyone stared.
"Fine! Two. Maybe. They're snakes," she admitted with a dramatic flop of her arm.
Seraphine choked on her tea.
"Wait—snakes as in personalities, or snakes as in—?"
"They shift," Liora said quickly. "Not my fault they're… reptilian and persuasive."
"So… species?" Vixzen asked with a dangerous grin.
"Stop it," Liora said.
"Do they have—" Seraphine started.
"—two penises?" Vivien finished.
Liora shoved a pillow over her face. "I haven't confirmed!"
"But you plan to?" Vixzen grinned wickedly.
"For research!" Liora screeched.
"Okay, Seraphine, your turn," Liora deflected fast, launching a pillow.
Seraphine caught it midair and groaned. "Apart from my shitty ex and the three shifters who crashed here last night, I got nothing."
Vixzen's eyes lit up. "Three?? What kind?"
"Wolf, bear, panther."
"Diversity," Vivien nodded approvingly.
"They were clothed!" Seraphine added quickly.
"We didn't ask that," Liora said flatly.
"Any of them… gifted?" Vixzen asked too casually.
"I AM NOT TAKING PHOTOS FOR YOUR SCIENCE," Seraphine snapped, throwing a pillow and a cucumber slice in one motion.
Vixzen tucked her knees under her chin.
She was still grinning — but it didn't quite reach her eyes.
"I hate to burst your bubble," she said, voice lighter than the way she hugged the plush burger to her chest, "but no man likes me."
Seraphine tilted her head. "What do you mean?"
Vixzen stared at the plush for a moment like it might answer for her.
"I mean… I can't get close to most," she said. "Literally. Energetically. I make people… weird."
Liora reached for another pillow but paused.
Vixzen gave a crooked smile. "You already know it's hard for me to make friends. I tried. I really did. I studied how people act. Copied their phrases. Figured if I made enough noise, people wouldn't notice I didn't really fit."
She hugged the plush tighter.
"There were four," she added. "Four I liked. They were weird too. Or I thought they were. Different. Magical. Like me. I thought maybe if I pulled us together… forced it a little… it'd work."
She shook her head, curls brushing her cheek.
"It didn't end well."
The silence was soft — not heavy.
Just waiting.
Like the room had made space.
So Seraphine crawled over first. Then Liora. Then Vivien, who brought the blanket.
They didn't say anything. Just wrapped around her like warmth incarnate.
Eventually, Vixzen exhaled.
"They were all fae," she murmured into the huddle. "Fire. Water. Earth. Nature."
Liora blinked. "Wait—so the other three elements were fine until…"
"Until the fire nation attacked," Seraphine said solemnly.
Vixzen snorted so hard she choked. "Gods, I walked into that."
"We have to watch that series next," Liora added.
"Zuko was my sexual awakening," Vivien said casually.
"Was?" Seraphine raised a brow.
"Is," Vivien corrected.
That broke the final dam.
Vixzen burst out laughing — the kind of laugh that turned into wheezing and foot-kicking and shrieking when Seraphine threw a handful of popcorn at her.
"Okay, okay," she gasped. "New rule. Every time someone trauma dumps, we follow it with a meme."
"I second this," Seraphine said.
"I'll curate a folder," Vivien offered, already typing.
"And I," Liora said grandly, "will build a pillow fort in your honor."
She stood with the grace of a queen preparing for battle. "TO WAR."
They all joined in — dragging cushions, throwing throws, commandeering every spare blanket and snack from the kitchen like feral sleepover gremlins. Vivien dared Liora to place a sushi order using her "corporate negotiation hostage tone," which resulted in the most terrifying DoorDash call in local history.
Rom-com credits rolled in the background. A slow swell of fake violins and pastel lighting.
Seraphine nestled into the pillow fort's center, a warm cup of lavender tea in her hands.
For the first time in a long time, she didn't feel like she was about to shatter.
Not numb. Not giddy.
Just…
Safe.
Wrapped in silk, sarcasm, and a new kind of magic.
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