He didn't even look at her.
Not once.
I sat across from him the entire dinner and watched his eyes — unwavering, focused… always on me. Even when Lila leaned forward, brushing her arm against his, even when she laughed a little too loud at his quiet, guarded words… he didn't flinch. Didn't shift. Didn't offer her even a fraction of what he gave me in a single glance.
It didn't make sense.
Because this whole thing — this dinner — was supposed to be for them. For them, not me. Not the sick girl who had no business interfering in someone else's happiness. I was just trying to help… wasn't I?
Then why did it feel like I was the one being hunted?
Lila was glowing afterward. Practically bouncing in her heels as we walked out of the restaurant and into the cool night. She clutched my arm like a giddy schoolgirl and whispered, "Luna, he's perfect. You were right. God, he's intense, but I love that. He's so mysterious — it's kinda hot, right?"
I smiled, nodded, agreed. Lied.
I hated every word that came out of her mouth. Not because Elias didn't deserve admiration — he was everything she said and more — but because I was starting to realize something terrifying.
He wasn't looking at her, because he never wanted to.
And maybe… maybe I didn't want him to.
I shook the thought away, squeezing Lila's hand tighter. "I'm glad you like him," I managed. "You two would look good together."
"You think?" she beamed. "Like... actually compatible?"
I nodded again, forcing a laugh. "You're both—"
White, I almost said.
Instead: "...well, both elegant. It fits."
But the truth settled like a stone in my stomach. He didn't look at her, not because she wasn't enough—but because I was what he wanted. And deep down, I'd known it all night.
Every time our eyes met.
Every time I tried to look away.
And every time… I failed.
--