Aria didn't go to school the next morning. She sat quietly at the dining table while her parents exchanged confused glances. Finally, she told them everything — from the day she first bullied Ethan to the night she went to his house, to how Jackson had beaten him up in front of everyone.
Her mother's spoon clattered against the plate. Her father's face darkened with anger.
"Aria," her mom said softly, "what you did at the start was wrong… but standing up for him was the right thing. You finally did something brave."
Her father folded his arms. "Tell me, do you have feelings for this boy?"
Aria looked down at her plate, her cheeks heating up. "No… I just feel bad for him, that's all."
Her mother chuckled knowingly. "Sweetheart, I've been a woman longer than you've been alive. I know what it looks like when a girl's in love. Stop acting tough and just admit it."
Aria's blush deepened, but she didn't say another word. She excused herself, heading to her room, her heart beating faster than it should.
By afternoon, she returned to the dining room. "Mom, Dad… I won't be going to school for two days. I want to take care of Ethan."
Her father sighed but nodded. "Fine. Just be careful."
As she picked up her bag, she paused at the door. "Dad," she said, voice turning serious, "I need a favor. I want you to teach Jackson a lesson for touching what I love most. Please remember… what I love is what you love too."
Her father's expression softened, a slow, proud smile curving his lips. "You don't have to worry, princess. I'll handle it."
Aria smiled faintly and left.
The sky was heavy with gray clouds when she arrived at Ethan's gate. She knocked softly, not expecting him to open. But to her surprise, he did.
He stood there in a simple black shirt, a faint bruise still marking his cheek. "What are you doing here, Aria?" he asked, tone calm but guarded.
"Come on," she said, brushing past him before he could refuse. "Please, just let me in. I can't stand here and argue."
He sighed, but she had already pushed herself inside. She walked straight to the living room and sat down like she owned the place. Ethan stood near the door, arms crossed, staring at her.
"I'll ask again," he said quietly. "What are you doing here?"
Aria turned her head, eyes glinting. "I came to check on what's mine."
He blinked, confused. "What are you saying, Aria? I don't remember you leaving anything in my house."
She stood and walked closer until she was right in front of him. "You're right," she whispered. "I didn't leave anything in your house, Ethan. But what's mine is here — lives in this house. He's quiet at school, too calm for his own good, and doesn't talk much."
Her words hung between them, charged and soft. "I came to stay with you… for two days."
Ethan's breath hitched, his heartbeat suddenly louder in his chest. "Aria," he said slowly, "are you sure about this? You don't have to—"
But before he could finish, she did something that completely froze him.
She kissed him.
It wasn't a quick or gentle kiss — it was firm, desperate, full of everything she hadn't said. His mind went blank for a moment, and then his hands found her waist almost without thinking. He pulled her closer, deepening the kiss as if he'd been waiting for it without realizing it.
Her fingers slid up to his shoulders, her breath warm against his skin. He lifted her, his grip firm but careful, and set her gently on the table.
For a second, they both just stared — her cheeks flushed, eyes darting away shyly, his chest rising and falling fast.
He smiled faintly, brushing a strand of wet hair from her face. "You're impossible," he whispered, voice low.
"And you," she said softly, eyes meeting his, "are mine."