The morning light crept lazily through the wooden blinds, dust motes dancing like little fairies in the sun. Birds chirped softly outside, and somewhere in the house, laughter echoed faintly—light, familiar voices.
Celeste stirred under the covers.
Her eyes blinked open slowly. She reached for her phone out of habit—then remembered there was still no signal. She sighed and flopped onto her back, staring up at the wooden ceiling.
The scent of toasted bread and butter wafted from the kitchen.
She could hear them.
Rowan. Isadora. Ash.
Their voices filtered through the half-open window—laughing, teasing, someone yelling "You're cheating!" followed by Isadora's triumphant whoop.
Were they… playing cards?
Celeste stared at the ceiling, lips pressing into a thin line.
"They didn't even bother waking me up."
She sat up, hair a mess, tank top sliding off her shoulder. Her heart thudded—not in anger, but something more like… heat. She was being left out, gently excluded. And somehow, that stung more than any fight would have.
Her gaze landed on her overnight bag.
She smirked.
If Isadora wanted to play the casual, friendly, sunshine-girl act… then Celeste would play her own game.
The kind where hearts stutter and eyes can't look away.
•
•
•
She pulled out a tiny crop top—white, soft, just tight enough to hug her curves—and a pair of gray shorts that could hardly be called modest. They sat high on her waist but cut off so short they practically invited scandal. Just a glimpse of movement, and—
Perfect.
She tied her hair into two messy buns on either side of her head, strands falling loosely around her cheeks. She looked at herself in the small mirror by the cabin door and smirked.
"She seems to be my rival then…"
Her violet eyes gleamed with mischief.
"I won't lose to her."
•
•
•
The sliding door creaked open.
Laughter faded slightly as all three heads turned.
Celeste stepped onto the patio like a sin in slow motion, one hand in her hair as if adjusting it, the other lazily tugging down the hem of her shirt—only it didn't help much.
Ash's breath hitched. Rowan blinked. Isadora smiled politely, but her eyes briefly flicked down to the shorts.
Celeste, of course, noticed.
"Morning," she yawned, stretching slightly so her shirt lifted an extra inch. "No one woke me up. Rude."
"We thought you needed sleep," Rowan said, still holding a hand of cards.
"You guys playing already?" she said, walking past Ash—too close, brushing his arm with hers, her scent clinging to the air like heat. "Guess I'm late to the fun."
Ash sat very still, his face neutral—but his ears turned red.
"Celeste," Rowan said, frowning faintly, "why are you dressed like that?"
"Like what?" she said innocently, grabbing a grape from the table and popping it into her mouth. "It's vacation. Loosen up."
Isadora chuckled. "You've got confidence. I love that."
Celeste turned to her with a smile sharp enough to slice fruit. "Thanks. Confidence is kind of my thing."
Ash swallowed.
Celeste leaned down slightly, resting her hand behind Ash's chair, whispering low enough that only he could hear:
"You didn't say good morning to me."
Ash looked away quickly. "Good morning."
His voice cracked.
Celeste smiled, eyes glinting.
Game on.
_____