The bar pulsed with the steady rhythm of conversation, the low thrum of voices blending with the clink of ice against glass.
Dim lights cast warm shadows across the mahogany countertops, and the air carried the rich scent of aged whiskey, fresh citrus, and something sweet—maybe honey, maybe vanilla, but unmistakably intoxicating.
Seraphina sat at her usual table, idly swirling the ice in her half-finished whiskey sour. The condensation beaded along the glass, pooling where her fingers rested, but she wasn't paying attention to that.
Her gaze was fixed on him.
Cassian.
He moved behind the bar with practiced ease, his sleeves rolled up to his forearms, dark hair slightly tousled as he poured a stream of amber liquid into a crystal tumbler.
He had an easy way of carrying himself, confidence in the way his fingers worked, the way his smirk curled just right when he handed off a drink.
Seraphina wasn't naïve. Cassian was the type of man women fell for too easily.
And usually, she wouldn't have cared.
But tonight, something was different.
She felt it before she even saw her.
A shift in the air. A slight hush in her own thoughts.
Isadora.
Seraphina's fingers stilled on her glass.
Isadora walked into the bar like she belonged there—like she belonged everywhere.
Not in an arrogant way, but with a quiet certainty that made people notice her without even realizing why.
Seraphina exhaled slowly, watching as Isadora took a seat at the bar. Too close to Cassian.
It wasn't jealousy. That would be ridiculous.
But something about the way Isadora tilted her head, the way she leaned in just slightly when Cassian smirked down at her—it made something tighten in Seraphina's chest.
Her fingers curled against the cool glass, grip tightening unconsciously.
She wasn't sure why she felt that way. It wasn't as if she cared who Isadora talked to.
And yet.
Yet.
She pushed herself up from her seat, her heels clicking softly against the wooden floor as she strode toward the bar.
Cassian noticed her first.
"Seraphina," he greeted, that easy smirk tugging at his lips. "You're out of whiskey."
"I am." She leaned against the counter, deliberately placing herself between him and Isadora."What do you suggest?"
Cassian tilted his head, considering. "Feeling dangerous?"
Seraphina's gaze flicked to Isadora, who watched her with something unreadable in her dark eyes.
Seraphina smirked. "Always."
Cassian chuckled and reached for a bottle.
"Oh, Isadora," Seraphina said, as if she'd just noticed her. "Didn't see you there."
Isadora arched an eyebrow. "That's unlike you."
Seraphina's smirk didn't waver. "I suppose I was… distracted."
Isadora studied her for a beat, then hummed. "Must've been something interesting, then."
Seraphina lifted her glass. "You know me. I always keep an eye on what matters."
Isadora didn't blink. "Do you?"
Seraphina took a slow sip, eyes never leaving hers.
She wasn't sure what game she was playing.
Or why she was playing it.
All she knew was that she didn't like the idea of Isadora sitting here, next to Cassian, looking at him the way she sometimes looked at her.
And for some reason, that mattered.
—
Weeks Later
Seraphina walked beside Cassian through the park, the fading sunlight casting golden streaks through the trees. The air smelled fresh, crisp with the faintest hint of autumn, and for once, the world felt quiet.
Cassian nudged her lightly with his shoulder. "You've been quiet tonight."
Seraphina arched an eyebrow. "Is that a problem?"
"Not at all," he said with a smirk. "Just means you're scheming something."
She laughed softly, shaking her head.
"Maybe I am."
Cassian chuckled, slipping his hands into his pockets. "Should I be worried?"
"That depends," Seraphina murmured, watching him. "Are you the target?"
He grinned. "Wouldn't be the first time."
She smirked, but it didn't quite reach her eyes.
Because Cassian wasn't the real target.
Not really.
And as they walked into the small café, she was reminded of that fact in the worst way.
Laughter rippled from a nearby table.
And there, seated with a group of friends, was Isadora.
Seraphina felt her stomach twist, but she didn't let it show.
Isadora looked relaxed—too relaxed. Her dark eyes gleamed under the warm café lighting, and when she laughed, it was easy, genuine, the kind of laugh Seraphina hadn't heard from her in weeks.
Cassian pulled out a chair for Seraphina, oblivious to the sudden shift in her mood.
She sat, barely listening as he spoke.
Because Isadora was moving on.
And Seraphina hated it.
She reached for her coffee, taking a slow sip as she tilted her head just slightly—just enough to catch Isadora's gaze.
Their eyes met.
For a split second, nothing else existed.
Then, Seraphina let out a soft, amused laugh, her fingers trailing along the rim of her cup.
Cassian, unaware of the silent battle unfolding, grinned. "What's funny?"
Seraphina smirked. "Nothing."
And just before she looked away, she made sure Isadora saw it—the subtle curve of her lips, the way her nails tapped idly against the ceramic.
She let her smirk linger.
If I can't have her, nobody can.
But she wasn't sure why she cared so much.
—
Later that night
Seraphina sat on her apartment balcony, a cigarette smoldering between her fingers. The city stretched before her, lights flickering in the distance, but she wasn't looking at them.
Her phone buzzed.
She picked it up without checking the name.
"Did you have fun?" Isadora's voice came through the speaker, low and smooth.
Seraphina exhaled, watching the smoke curl into the night. "Always."
A pause.
Then, Isadora laughed softly. "Careful, Seraphina. You're playing with fire."
Seraphina smirked. "And you like to get burned."
Another silence, then Isadora's voice, quieter this time. "I wonder who'll burn first."
The line went dead.
Seraphina set the phone down, her heart beating just a little too fast.
She took another drag, exhaling slowly.
What am I doing?
She didn't have an answer.
But she wasn't ready to stop.
Seraphina's possessiveness toward Isadora is more subconscious—she doesn't fully understand why she feels this way, but the intensity of her reactions is undeniable.
—
The days blurred together in a haze of late nights and sharp glances. Seraphina couldn't escape the weight of her own feelings, not when every corner she turned seemed to pull her closer to Isadora.
The constant buzz of tension that lingered in the air between them had become a constant presence in her life, threading its way through the mundane moments and turning them into something she didn't fully understand.
She sat in the same café, alone this time, swirling her coffee absentmindedly.
The early afternoon sun cast soft light through the windows, creating a comforting glow that should have been calming.
But it wasn't.
Not today.
Today, there was a restlessness in her chest, a gnawing uncertainty that she couldn't shake.
Her phone buzzed again, snapping her out of her thoughts. She glanced down at the message, expecting to see a work update or a reminder from Cassian.
Instead, it was from Isadora.
"Meet me tonight."
Her pulse quickened.
Seraphina had promised herself she wouldn't go, that she wouldn't let Isadora pull her back into whatever this was.
But she knew herself too well—knew that no matter how many times she told herself to resist, she'd find herself there again, standing at the edge of something she couldn't see but could feel.
That night, the bar felt different. More alive. More charged. As if the city itself could sense the impending storm that hovered between her and Isadora.
Seraphina entered, the familiar warmth of the bar immediately surrounding her. The low hum of voices, the clink of glass, and the soft jazz playing in the background all seemed to blend into the atmosphere she knew too well. But tonight, it wasn't enough to drown out the thoughts racing in her head.
Isadora was already there, sitting at the same spot by the bar, her posture casual, but there was a certain stillness to her that Seraphina couldn't quite place. She walked up slowly, the air between them thick with unspoken words.
Isadora's gaze lifted when she approached, and for a moment, neither of them spoke. The silence hung heavy, as though the world had paused for that brief second.
"Seraphina," Isadora finally said, her voice low and almost inviting. "You came."
Seraphina nodded, leaning against the bar.
"You asked."
Isadora smiled, a small, knowing curve of her lips. "I'm not sure you always listen to what I ask."
Seraphina's breath caught, the words slipping past her lips before she could stop them. "I'm listening now."
Isadora's eyes darkened, her gaze never leaving Seraphina's face. There was a flicker of something there—something dangerous, maybe even predatory. The way she looked at her made Seraphina feel exposed, like every guard she'd built up was crumbling away, piece by piece.
She exhaled sharply, trying to steady herself. "So what did you want?"
Isadora didn't answer immediately. Instead, she reached for her glass, swirling the contents slowly before meeting Seraphina's gaze again.
"You've been avoiding me."
Seraphina smirked, even as the words stung more than she wanted to admit.
"I don't avoid people."
Isadora tilted her head slightly, studying her with an intensity that made Seraphina's heart race. "Really?" she asked, her voice soft but edged with something sharper. "Because it seems like you've been avoiding yourself."
The words hit Seraphina harder than they should have. For a moment, she couldn't find her voice. She wasn't sure what to say, not when the truth felt like a knife twisting in her chest.
"Do you want to play this game, Isadora?"
She finally asked, her voice strained but defiant.
Isadora leaned in closer, the air between them electric. "I don't play games, Seraphina. But you? You're already in deep."
Seraphina clenched her jaw, resisting the urge to pull back, to flee. But she stayed, trapped in that gaze, unable to look away.
She didn't want to care. She didn't want to be drawn in like this.
But somewhere deep inside, a voice whispered that she already was. That there was no way out now.
The silence stretched between them, thick and heavy, until Isadora finally spoke again, her voice softer, almost teasing.
"Careful, Seraphina," she said, a playful smile tugging at her lips. "You might get burned."
Seraphina's heart skipped a beat. She forced herself to stand her ground, even as every instinct in her screamed to run.
"I've been burned before," she replied, her voice colder than she intended.
Isadora's eyes sparkled with something like amusement, but there was an underlying tension in the air, something that told Seraphina this was only the beginning of whatever game they were playing.
Before either of them could say more, the door opened, and Cassian walked in, his usual easy grin on his face as he scanned the bar. He spotted Seraphina immediately and made his way over, but the moment he stepped between her and Isadora, the air seemed to shift.
Cassian's voice broke the tension. "Didn't know this was a party," he said, looking from Seraphina to Isadora with a raised eyebrow. "You two finally getting along?"
Seraphina quickly masked the discomfort that twisted in her gut. "We're fine," she said, her voice steady, even though everything inside her felt anything but.
Cassian grinned, clearly oblivious to the undercurrent of tension. "Well, it's good to see you both getting along, then." He turned to Isadora. "What are you drinking?"
Isadora's gaze flicked briefly to Seraphina, a silent challenge passing between them before she answered, her tone smooth as ever. "A whiskey sour. Same as her."
Cassian chuckled, giving Seraphina an amused glance. "You two sure have a lot in common."
Seraphina's heart skipped again, and she forced herself to smile, ignoring the unease creeping up her spine. "I suppose we do."
The night continued, but Seraphina couldn't shake the feeling that the line between them—between what she wanted, what she feared, and what she couldn't have—was getting thinner with every passing second.
And that?
That was dangerous.