I’m Not Bored of You Yet

It was Saturday.

I had plans — and by plans, I mean absolutely none. Just me, my hoodie, some cereal, and maybe finally catching up on that anime backlog I was pretending didn't exist.

So when the doorbell rang, I groaned out loud.

And when I opened it and saw her — all legs and smirks and oversized sunglasses like she stepped out of a Vogue dream sequence — I nearly slammed it shut again.

Celestia. Again.

"What are you wearing?" I asked, voice still scratchy from sleep.

She lowered her glasses slightly. "Clothes."

"You look like you're about to seduce a nation."

"Just one boy," she said sweetly, pushing past me into my apartment like she owned the lease.

She spun once. "Go take a shower. We're going out."

"I'm not—wait, what?"

"You heard me. And wear something that doesn't look like you dug it out of a charity bin."

"Wow. Harsh."

"Cute. But harsh," she added, flicking my hoodie. "Now go."

I grumbled all the way to the bathroom but did as she said. Because apparently, I'd lost control of my own weekend.

---

Her car was waiting downstairs. Her car, not the Rolls Royce her driver always uses.

It looked like a luxury spaceship had a baby with a race car. Sleek, black, tinted windows — the kind of car that said don't touch me unless your last name is on a Forbes list.

She tossed me the keys to her DBS Superleggera like it was a toy. It wasn't. It was a predator in gloss paint.

I fumbled. "What the hell?"

> "You're driving."

"To where?"

"Surprise," she said, sliding into the passenger seat.

"I don't even know where—"

> "It's in the GPS."

I looked at her.

She looked at me.

Then she pulled something out of her purse and held it out.

A black card. As in black card.

> "Here."

"What?" I blinked. "What the hell is this?"

"My credit card. Duh." Then she leaned closer, whispering like it was a secret. "The pin's 0007. James Bond, baby."

I stared at it like it might explode.

"I'm not taking your card."

> "You're my boyfriend. It's cute if you pay."

"But it's your card—"

> "Exactly."

I opened my mouth to argue.

She grinned. "If you don't take it, I'll make a scene at the entrance about how my boyfriend is broke and doesn't love me."

I took the card.

> "Smart boy."

---

Wherever she picked, it was the kind of place that didn't have prices on the menu. Just names. Names of dishes I couldn't pronounce and servers who looked like they'd sneer if you asked for ketchup.

And Celestia? She fit right in.

Every eye was on her the second we walked in. They didn't even hide it.

Men. Boys. Probably a few women. Heads turned like she was magnetic. Because, well, she was.

And I hated it.

I didn't say anything. I didn't need to. She noticed.

Of course she noticed.

We sat down. She crossed her legs, looked at me with a little smirk, then leaned in slightly.

> "They're all staring, huh?"

I said nothing.

She kept going. "What do you think would happen if I just got up… and walked over to that guy over there?" She nodded toward a tall, polished type in a designer suit who looked like he bench-pressed yachts.

I blinked at her.

"I could just sit next to him," she mused, tapping her chin. "Smile a little. Maybe ask him what he's doing later tonight…"

I clenched my jaw. She was watching me so I said nothing.

Which somehow said everything.

Her lips curled into a wicked little grin. "You're jealous."

"I'm—" I started, but she cut me off with a kiss. Soft. Lingering. A little smug.

"Relax," she whispered against my lips. "I only want you."

I blinked.

"I'm not bored of you yet," she added with a playful wink.

"Yet?"

> "You heard me."

---

Dinner was a blur. She ordered for both of us. I paid with her card, feeling like a fraud while she looked pleased. She held my hand under the table and ran her fingers along my palm, like she knew it made me nervous.

On the drive home, she took the wheel.

"I missed driving," she said casually, one hand on the steering wheel, the other in mine.

She dropped me off at my place, then turned off the engine but didn't get out.

"What?" I asked.

She looked over at me, eyes unreadable for once.

> "I want to stay."

"You always want to stay."

She smirked. "Is that a complaint?"

I didn't answer.

She leaned in, brushing her nose against mine. "I'd corrupt you if I stayed."

"Pretty sure you already have."

That made her laugh.

But she still pulled back, reluctantly. "I have things to prep. School, remember? You want a girlfriend who stays top of the class, right?"

"I want a girlfriend who doesn't keep trying to destroy my sense of normal."

"Too late," she whispered, giving me one last kiss. "I'll see you tomorrow."

And just like that, she was gone again.

---

To be continued...