4:《Love on the Rocks》

Seraphina hadn't meant to end up here.

She had taken a spontaneous trip out of the city, deciding she needed a night to herself—away from Cassian, away from the constant tension that clung to her like smoke.

But fate had a cruel sense of humor.

Because when she walked into the dimly lit bar, the last person she expected to see was Isadora.

And yet, there she was.

Sitting at the counter, fingers wrapped around a half-finished drink, the neon glow of the liquor shelves casting sharp shadows over her features.

Their eyes met, and for a moment, neither of them moved.

Then, Isadora sighed and turned back to her drink.

"You've got to be kidding me."

Seraphina smirked, walking toward the counter.

"Miss me?"

Isadora scoffed, taking another sip.

"Of all the bars in all the places, you had to walk into this one?"

Seraphina slid onto the stool beside her, ordering a whiskey.

"Fate works in mysterious ways."

Isadora let out a short laugh, but there was no humor in it.

"Fate hates me, then."

Seraphina studied her, noting the tension in her shoulders, the slight furrow of her brows.

"Rough night?"

Isadora didn't answer immediately. She stared into her glass as if it held all the answers. Then, she muttered,

"I don't want to talk to you."

"Then don't."

Seraphina didn't push. She just ordered another round for them both, sipping her whiskey as the minutes stretched into hours.

And somehow, against all logic, they stayed.

One drink turned into two. Then three. Then four.

By the time Seraphina was laughing, and Isadora wasn't stopping her, the edges of their tension had blurred.

Seraphina leaned in slightly, voice lower.

"You act like you hate me."

Isadora's eyes flickered to hers.

"I do."

Seraphina smirked, but something about it felt different now.

"Liar."

Isadora's breath hitched just slightly—so small it was almost imperceptible. Almost.

Seraphina's fingers brushed against hers on the counter. The contact was fleeting, electric.

Neither of them pulled away.

Neither of them thought.

Then, suddenly—

they weren't just looking anymore.

Lips met, soft at first, hesitant, then hungry—like a match to gasoline.

The taste of whiskey, the heat of too many unsaid things, the feeling of something breaking open between them—

And then, just as quickly, it was ripped away.

Isadora pushed Seraphina back, breathing hard, her pupils blown wide with something unreadable.

"What the hell are we doing?"

she whispered.

Seraphina didn't have an answer.

Not one she wanted to admit.

But the alcohol loosened her tongue before she could stop it.

"I think I—" She swallowed.

"I think I might be in love with you."

The words hung in the air, heavy and irreversible.

Isadora's expression shattered.

"No." Her voice was sharp, cutting.

"Don't say that."

Seraphina's throat felt tight.

"Why not?"

"Because it's not real." Isadora's fists clenched.

"Because you don't even know what you want."

Seraphina flinched. "That's not true—"

"Yes, it is." Isadora's voice was raw, filled with something close to anger.

"You just don't want me to have anyone else."

Seraphina opened her mouth, but before she could speak—

A new voice cut through the air.

"What the actual hell?"

Both of them froze.

Seraphina's stomach dropped.

Cassian.

He stood near the entrance, his expression unreadable at first—until it wasn't.

Until the hurt settled in.

Until the betrayal bled through.

Seraphina knew immediately.

He had seen.

He had seen everything.

Cassian's jaw clenched, his hands tightening into fists.

"Wow." He let out a bitter laugh.

"I knew you were playing games, but this?"

Seraphina started to stand. "Cassian, I—"

"Shut up." His voice was low, dangerous.

Isadora crossed her arms, trying to mask her own shock. "This isn't your business."

Cassian's head snapped toward her, and his rage was undeniable.

"Not my business? Are you serious?" His voice shook. "You hate me, you hate her, and yet somehow you still manage to screw both of us over."

Isadora stiffened. "I didn't—"

Cassian scoffed. "Save it."

His eyes flicked back to Seraphina, and the coldness in them burned. "And you."

Seraphina swallowed, but she didn't back down.

Cassian stepped closer, his voice dropping.

"You used me."

Seraphina didn't deny it.

Because maybe, deep down, he was right.

Cassian let out a harsh exhale, his hands flexing at his sides.

"I was stupid enough to fall for you. And for what?"

His lip curled.

"So you could chase after someone who doesn't even want you?"

Seraphina's chest tightened.

Cassian let out a humorless chuckle, but there was no amusement in his eyes.

"You two deserve each other."

Then, without another word—

He turned and stormed out.

Leaving Seraphina standing in the wreckage.

And Isadora, staring after him.

And the silence, thick and suffocating, between them both.

Cassian has finally reached his breaking point, Seraphina has confessed something she never intended to,

and Isadora has pushed them both away.

Seraphina didn't move.

Didn't breathe.

The bar around them blurred into nothing, the clatter of glasses and the hum of conversation drowned out by the weight of Cassian's absence.

She should have chased after him.

Should have said something.

But she didn't.

Because when she looked at Isadora—who still hadn't met her gaze, who was staring at the door as if she wanted to follow him—

Seraphina realized something ugly.

She had won.

And it felt like losing.

Isadora exhaled sharply and pushed back from the bar, snatching her coat.

Seraphina reached for her wrist before she could leave. "Don't."

"Don't what?" Isadora's voice was cold, distant.

"Don't go after him? Don't fix what you broke?"

Seraphina tightened her grip.

"You don't love him."

Isadora's eyes finally met hers, and for the first time that night, Seraphina saw it—doubt.

Not just in Cassian.

Not just in Seraphina.

But in herself.

Isadora yanked her hand free.

"Screw you, Seraphina."

Then she left.

And Seraphina, for the first time in a long time, had no idea what to do next.

Meanwhile…

Cassian drove aimlessly, hands gripping the wheel too tight, the city lights blurring past him.

He should have known.

Should have known that Seraphina was just playing a game.

Should have known that she was never really his.

He slammed his foot on the brakes at a red light, his jaw clenched so tight it ached.

He had felt it, the way Seraphina had started to slip into something more with him.

The way she had let him closer than she let anyone else.

Or maybe he had just imagined it.

Because in the end, it was always her and Isadora.

Cassian exhaled, shaking his head.

No.

Not anymore.

If they wanted to destroy each other, he wasn't going to stand in the crossfire.

They were dead to him.

At least, that's what he told himself.

The fallout has begun—

Cassian is done with both of them,

Isadora is spiraling,

and Seraphina is left with an unfamiliar feeling:

regret.

—

Cassian sat on the cold pavement of the alleyway, his back pressed against the rough brick wall. The distant hum of the city filtered through the narrow space, but he barely heard it.

His chest ached.

Not with anger anymore. Not with rage.

Just emptiness.

He wiped at his face with the sleeve of his jacket, but the tears kept coming—silent, bitter, unstoppable.

"You look like hell."

The voice was familiar, low and steady, carrying the weight of someone who had seen too much but never judged.

Cassian lifted his head.

She stood at the mouth of the alleyway, her arms crossed, her denim jacket slightly oversized, as if she had borrowed it from someone else long ago and never gave it back.

Her dark hair was tied messily at the nape of her neck, and there was a cigarette tucked behind her ear, forgotten.

"Surprised you recognize me through all the self-pity," Cassian muttered.

She snorted and walked over, crouching beside him.

"You're not that hard to spot. Sad guy, crying alone, looking like his whole world just fell apart? Yeah, kind of obvious."

Cassian let out a breathy laugh, shaking his head.

"You always know how to make a guy feel better, don't you, Elara?"

Elara smirked. "It's a gift."

They had known each other for years. She worked at the bar, always watching from the sidelines, never getting too involved.

But she had always been there—always.

She nudged him lightly with her knee.

"Wanna talk about it?"

Cassian hesitated.

He could tell her about Seraphina.

About Isadora. About how stupid he felt for thinking either of them could ever be his.

But what was the point?

Elara wasn't the kind of person you spilled your soul to just to hear empty reassurances.

If he told her, it would be real.

And right now,

he wasn't sure he wanted it to be.

So instead, he let out a long sigh.

"Not tonight."

Elara studied him for a moment before nodding.

"Alright. But you owe me a drink for listening to your dramatic silence."

Cassian huffed a laugh. "Fine."

She stood up and held out a hand.

"C'mon. I'm not letting you rot in this alleyway like some tragic movie character."

Cassian hesitated, then took her hand.

And maybe—just maybe—this was the start of something different.

Something that wouldn't destroy him.

—

Cassian finds comfort in Elara, a bartender he's known for years.

Their relationship begins subtly, offering him a way out of the destruction Seraphina and Isadora left behind.