STELLA
I don’t even know how many days I’ve been here in Isaac’s mansion. But one thing is certain: he’s not going to send me back to my father.
I’m not sure if what I’m feeling is right—feeling like I don’t want him to send me back. I don’t know!
I let my eyes roam the surroundings. It’s empty here—just me. I’m sitting alone on the stairs outside Isaac’s room.
It’s lonely. Quiet. Not technically peaceful, but I think I could manage to live here on my own. But Isaac? Can he really? This is his home, after all.
However... he talks so much... doesn’t he? He always needs entertainment. Can he really live in a place like this?
"What are you thinking this time?"
I jumped in surprise when someone spoke beside me. It’s Nullus. Isaac. Whatever. He’s sitting on the top step where I’m sitting. His hair is messy, and he’s looking at me.
"Nothing," I snapped. "Did you master your teleportation juice so you suddenly appear out of nowhere?"
"No. This time, my clothes stay," he replied. I was about to laugh when I noticed he’s still staring at me.
"What?"
"I’ve been here for a while. What are you thinking?" he asked again.
What’s with this guy now? He doesn’t seem arrogant today?
"I told you, nothing. I’m just enjoying the silence," I reasoned.
He didn’t respond. He stretched his long legs and stared ahead. "Do you want to go back to your father?" he suddenly asked.
I froze for a moment, looking at him.
"Do you want to?" he repeated. "I don’t blame you. It is so fucking lonely here."
He faced me again, smiling slightly. "I can take you if you—"
"I’ll go, and then what?" I raised my brows. "Are you going to blackmail me again if I don’t do what you tell me? Also, don’t act like you’re in charge—" I stood up and brushed off my pants. "I don’t want to go home. Especially to my father."
Our eyes met. He looked up at me while still sitting.
"Hey, do you like me?" he asked playfully. "You like me, don’t you? That’s why you don’t want to go home?"
Huh?
"As if," I snapped, walking down the hallway towards his room. He doesn’t let me sleep anywhere else in his mansion, so I don’t have a choice.
I swung the door open. I was about to close it when Isaac slammed it shut behind me. He followed me.
Tsk!
"So, you don’t like me?" he suddenly said as he faced me. His arms were crossed, and he pouted slightly.
What does he want to hear? If he’s bored, let him plant potatoes outside!
"You know I don’t hate you. You’re handsome. You’re not ugly. You know that very well," I said.
"You introduced me to the internet days ago!" he shouted. "I read about preferences—am I not your preference?!"
WHAT?
What is this guy’s obsession? I just taught him how to use the internet so he’d leave me alone for a bit. He even learned to do shitposts on Facebook. He’s really good at it!
"Seriously, tell me your preferences, and I’m willing to change my appearance for you," he said again.
I stared at him curiously. I rubbed my neck because it’s tiring to look up at him. "What’s with you? Why would you change your appearance based on my preferences?"
"Fuck, you’re hard to read!" he shouted, frustrated. "Just tell me!"
Hard to read? Me?
"What’s hard to read?"
"Geez, girl, I’ve been flirting with you for how many fucking days, weeks, months, whatever, and you just don’t get it." He sighed. "And I’m bored right now."
Told you.
I just shook my head. I sat down on his bed’s edge and accepted my current situation—one I know he’ll mess with again because he’s probably tired of shitposting and sharing posts.
"Do you have a problem?" I softly asked as I looked at the wall to my right. "What’s going on?"
He didn’t answer.
I noticed something earlier. He isn’t this annoying. It’s like there’s something off.
"And no, I’m not concerned. I’m just scared that you might do something again—"
"If I weren’t like this," he started, causing me to pause. I looked at him as he sat down on the floor beside me. He leaned against me, and now he was lying down with his head on the bed as he looked up at me.
"What again?" I asked before getting distracted by his hypnotizing gaze.
"If I weren’t like this, if I hadn’t done anything to your friends... would you like me?" His voice was soft—almost a whisper.
But...
W-What?
My eyes slightly widened as I realized what he was asking.
How do I answer that?
We stared at each other for a few seconds. I swallowed hard before answering. "I don’t know if you have a problem or if you’re just messing with me." I avoided his gaze and flopped down on the bed. "But... you’re likable, actually. You just have a really bad attitude."
Silence took over. I started to worry if my answer was wrong.
Shit. What kind of question is that? If we’re just talking about his appearance, anyone would find him attractive! The problem is—he’s a fucking narcissist!
I screamed in surprise when he suddenly stood up and forcefully fell onto me.
"I knew it. You like me."
I furrowed my brows.
"What? You ask me something, and that’s the conclusion you come to?"
He grinned widely. Amusement danced in his eyes. "I killed people—and I will kill more."
"O?"
"Don’t you care about it?"
"About what, about killing people? Do you really think I care, especially now?"
I don’t know why those words came out...
But honestly... do I care?
"Ah, I see..." He licked his bottom lip. "You’re just like me." He laughed softly.
What?
"What do you mean?"
"I should be working on my magic and spells... right now," he said. The teasing look left his eyes, making me pause. I couldn’t read his thoughts, so I didn’t respond.
"You know what you’re doing... are you with the government?"
"What are you talking about—"
"Are you a witch too? Some kind of witch that hides its identity?"
"Of course not!"
What is happening with this guy?
He laughed again. "These past few days... I can’t concentrate." He sat up, propped his elbow on the soft bed. "All I think about is your mouth, Stella."
Holy fuck—
I stared at his handsome face. Still, I can’t read his mind. Is he messing with me?
"Did you do something? Were you ordered by an enemy to mess with me?" I asked in a low voice as he gently moved towards me. I now notice the dark circles under his eyes.
Honestly, he looks scarier with those dark circles... but his current presence is different.
He leaned down toward me again.
I don’t know why I’m staring blankly.
What’s happening to him? What the hell?
But I didn’t complain. He didn’t speak either. His breathing deepened, and he gently rested his head next to mine, his gaze fixated on my lips. I swallowed hard as he lightly bit his bottom lip.
"H-Hey—"
"I am your responsibility now, remember?" he whispered, looking up at me.
"This is sexual harassment—"
"It’s not." His face was only a fraction of an inch away from mine. "This is not harassment in any way. Especially if you, yourself, are enjoying this."
I couldn’t speak because of what he said.
His lips were almost brushing against mine. He gently whispered again. "I want to take over the world. I want to destroy everything. I want every person on this planet to burn before my eyes—destroying something is my pleasure—but God help it, why is this so much better?"
"I-Isaac."
"Yes, love?" he whispered as he pressed his lips—oh my-- "What is it? Don’t you want this?" He asked, then lightly kissed me again.
"Tell me, don’t you want this? I’ll stop, I promise." He kissed me again. My hand instinctively grabbed onto his neck.
Shit, what am I doing?
Did he slip something into my drink? Why do I feel like this now?
He pulled back slightly. "I see. You like this, too." He moved a bit farther and stared at me—right into my soul.
"Stay with me. I promise I’ll shut up if you want me to. I won’t destroy anything anymore. I promise."
"I-Isaac, what’s happening to you?"
"I have no fucking idea, do you have any idea what’s happening to us?"
To us?
I didn’t respond. Again, he leaned down and kissed me. After a while, he pulled back slightly to speak. "Open up," he said. "Let me taste."
Before I could answer, his lips were on mine again. His kisses were fierce, yet not painful. There was a thirst there.
Fuck, what is really happening to me? To... us?
"Stella," he softly called my name, finally straddling me. My legs instinctively wrapped around his waist.
"Damn it, whatever," I muttered, laughing softly.
He smiled back at me. And yes, fuck it, he’s beautiful. "No, I am not going to have sex with you. Even if I wanted to."
"That’s not what I’m saying," I replied as he leaned down to kiss me again.
"What I mean is..." He kissed me again, but then quickly pulled away. "Am I betraying the whole world... for this?"
"Yes," he whispered against my lips. "Deep down... you hate your countrymen as much as I hate myself."
I grabbed his neck, kissing him myself. We kissed. I don’t know how long. I’m now familiar with the taste of his lips and how he moves them. We kissed for how fucking long.
No, nothing else happened between us. But I have hickeys below my earlobe. My lips are swollen, and he doesn’t seem to get tired.
"You are a horrible person, Stella," he said, pulling away slightly to catch his breath. "Betraying your country just to make out?" He smiled mischievously.
"Well, fuck, I guess I am a horrible person now."
"You are," he responded, lying beside me and staring at me. "And I love it."
****