Aveline
That night after everything...
I won the competition. I was backstage, breathless and glowing, still high on adrenaline. Andrew came toward me with flowers and hugged me—just a spaced-out, friendly one. I hugged him back politely.
But then I saw her.
Ruby.
She was standing there, holding flowers of her own.
She dropped them. Right there. And walked away with Max.
I called out her name, but she wasn't picking up. Panic swirled in my chest. I called Max, and thankfully, he answered. He told me where they were.
A club.
Ruby wasn't drunk. She's always been good with alcohol—can't get drunk easily. Just a little tipsy.
But the moment our eyes met across the club... something electric ran through my body. I felt it everywhere.
She was protesting, resisting—but somehow, I managed to take her back home. She leaned against the bedframe with a sigh. I sat beside her and whispered:
> "I'm sorry, Ruby."
She stared at me—cold, distant. Then whispered back, heartlessly:
> "I don't give a fuck, Aveline."
She stood up and slammed the door behind her.
---
She kissed me after that fight.
But she was still mad. Still not talking to me. Not even looking at me.
More cruel than before. Colder. Like a winter I couldn't melt.
I was in the library with Alia, pretending to study.
No, let me rephrase that—I was staring blankly at my notes for a whole hour.
She noticed.
> "Aveline," she said gently, "I've been watching you for an hour. You're just sitting there, blinking at your notes."
She snapped me back to reality. "Uh... nothing serious, Alia," I tried to brush it off.
But she's been my best friend since childhood. She knows me too well.
> "I know you, Aveline Sun," she said softly. "Whenever you're sad or stressed, you go quiet. Your pretty little face goes lifeless, like it is now."
Damn.
She was right.
I met her gaze. "Alia... I don't know. Ruby and I had a fight. That gun, you remember? After that, she got angry. She came to my competition with roses but saw Andrew hugging me backstage. It was just a spaced-out hug, but... something venomous snapped inside her. She left with Max, went to a club. And now... now she's just not talking to me."
I dropped my head in my hands.
Alia pulled me into a calm hug. She didn't ask anything else. She just held me.
Tears burned my eyes, but I refused to let them fall.
She patted my back gently. No judgment. No pressure.
> "Don't worry, Aveline," she whispered. "Don't stress too much. She's mafia. You probably hit the wrong nerve at the wrong time, that's all."
I nodded.
Still couldn't focus.
She smiled and said, "Come on. Let's go to your favorite café."
We sat in our usual spot. She rested her hand on mine. I gave her a tired smile, and she understood without words.
By evening, I went back to the villa. The place of luxury. But also cruel. Cold. The kind of cold that could swallow you whole.
Mr. Han, our butler, greeted me with a warm smile.
> "Madam, you're back."
I nodded. "Is Ruby here?"
He shook his head.
> "She hasn't returned from work yet."
I crashed on the sofa. Leon ran to me, barking happily, licking my cheeks. I giggled.
But it didn't last.
Sadness settled back in my chest.
And then—
The front door opened.
I sat up.
Ruby walked in.
She looked at me. Cold. Distant. Then walked upstairs without a word.
I followed her. She was standing in front of the mirror, undoing her tie, unbuttoning her shirt. She looked tired—bone-deep tired. I could see it in her eyes.
I stood in front of her, on my toes—she's so damn tall.
She didn't meet my eyes.
> "You're disobeying me again, Aveline?" she asked, tilting her head slightly.
I whispered, "I'm your wife, Ruby. That's my responsibility. If you want to punish me then... go ahead."
She chuckled. Cruelly.
But let me continue.
I slowly undid her tie. Then her buttons. One... two... three...
One day, my own desires will get me killed.
Because now, all I wanted was to feel her.
My hand roamed over her tall figure, tracing her firm abs... her scars.
I pulled off the shirt and then—
I saw it.
The tattoo.
With tattoos I saw that neckless.
She stood like a carved shadow under the night sky — shoulders firm, gaze locked somewhere far and unreachable. That lion-shaped pendant hung steady around her neck, its golden edges catching moonlight like it was burning with silent pride. She never took it off. Never.
Even when she slept.
Even when she bled.
Even when she kissed me.
That necklace stayed — like a tether to her pain. Or maybe a shield.
And tonight… something in me needed to touch it.
I came closer, soft feet brushing stone. My breath wavered, lips parted.
"Can I…" I asked, not finishing the sentence. My fingers hovered near her collarbone, that little lion staring back at me like it knew all of Ruby's secrets.
She didn't move.
Didn't answer.
But she tilted her chin just a bit, enough for me to take it as yes.
I touched the pendant.
Warm from her skin. Cold from the wind.
It was small but heavy, and suddenly I felt the weight wasn't just metal. It was a memory. A legacy. A scar. Her mother's last gift, she once told me. A lion. Fierce, stubborn, brave — just like Ruby.
"You never take it off," I whispered.
Her eyes flicked to mine. "It's the only thing I have left from her."
And damn, the way she said it — not broken, but held together by sheer will — made my throat tighten.
Then my gaze locked over her massive tattoo I always like that one tattoo on her shoulder to her neck.
A dragon.
Painted across her left shoulder like it had been born from fire and fury. Its face snarled over her collarbone, one sharp eye blazing toward her, the other curling in like it was watching her heart. Flames erupted from its open jaws—licking up her neck like a collar of danger and heat.
My breath hitched.
It was... perfect.
But then my eyes dropped.
And I saw something else.
Just above her right wrist.
An A. Inked in delicate, flowing violet. My color. My name.
Right beside it—a tiny dancing girl. Not a ballerina, no. No pointe shoes, no stiff pose. Just a dancer mid-leap, hair flying, skirt blooming like a flower.
A tiny mole on her right toe.
> "...That's me," I whispered.
> "You actually... did it?"
Ruby didn't answer.
She didn't have to.
I looked at her again, tears forming.
> "You tattooed me? On your wrist?"
Her gaze dropped. Defensive. Soft.
> "It calms me," she muttered. "When I'm about to lose it. When I'm about to pull the trigger. You're right there."
Silence.
I traced the dancer, then the violet A.
> "Why didn't you tell me?" I whispered.
Ruby met my eyes. Finally.
> "Because it wasn't for you to admire," she said. "It was for me to remember."
My voice cracked.
> "Remember what?"
She stepped closer.
> "That I'm still human.
That I have something beautiful in my hands I don't want to lose.
That I have you."
> "Is that a confession or a reminder?" I asked, voice trembling.
She grabbed my wrist, pulling me close.
> "Not a confession," she whispered. "A warning. A reminder that you belong to me. Only me."
---
She let me go and walked to the dressing room.
I stood there, heart pounding.
Later that night, I filled the bathtub with hot water, roses, and candles. Steam wrapped around me.
I took off my shirt, jeans, unhooked my bra. I was naked. I slipped into the tub. Muscles relaxing. Eyes closed.
A single tear slid down my cheek.
And I leaned down.
Down.
Deeper into the water.
I let it cover my mouth. My nose. My ears.
I don't know why.
I just... did.
Then banging.
Loud. Urgent.
The door burst open and arms—familiar, strong, cruel but safe—pulled me out.
Ruby.
I coughed, gasping for air, still in her arms. Dizzy. Barely conscious. But I saw her face.
She was angry. But scared.
Her eyes—wild. Not in control.
> "Idiot. Idiot, you damn idiot, Aveline—what were you thinking?!"
> "I wanted you to notice me..." I whispered weakly.
Still fully clothed, her red wolfcut a wild mess, she looked like sin wrapped in silk.
I reached up shakily, fingers brushing the tattoo on her neck—the dragon's fire.
She sighed.
Without another word, she carried me to bed. Changed my clothes. Dried my hair. Her jaw was clenched the entire time.
Then she asked:
> "You want me to forgive you, little rabbit?"
She didn't look at me. But I knew she was watching.
> "Yes, Ruby," I whispered, still trembling.
Her red eyes locked onto mine—deadly. Beautiful.
> "Then, little rabbit..."
"I'll teach you how to use a gun."
Her punishment.
Her forgiveness.
Her way of loving me—rough, cold, possessive, unshakable.
And I would take it.
Anything.
I know this teaching session is more than just teaching me how to use a gun like baddie.
But as long as it meant she was still mine.
I will do anything.