Chapter 1. Will You Be My Boyfriend?

Xerina’s POV

“Why does it matter anymore?” I swirled my drink as the liquid shimmered under the disco lights. The loud music blasted in my ears, my head pounding. Maybe I shouldn’t have come here. Maybe this was all a bad idea. Maybe I shouldn’t be born in this world.

“What is left to hope for? Absolutely nothing, so it doesn’t matter if I get married to the first boy my parents chose for me. It’s not going to affect me—or him.” My throat burned as I gulped down the remaining liquid. It was always hard to talk about him. Heartbreak was a silent stalker, it would hang you a little longer, make you feel its presence, and look for it in its absence.

Being broken down by my mate took me days and years to heal, but I could still feel the cold embrace of his words wrapped around me like unforgiving rope, slowly choking me.

“It matters, Xery. I care about you. Your brother, your parents, we all care for you.” She sighed. “And I can’t see you falling into this hole again. You don’t have to go through all that again.”

I looked down at the ground, hoping it would crack open and engulf me. I hated this feeling. Vulnerability never ran in my veins. I was never a girl to back down, but he made me miserable; he made me weak. My heart felt worn, old, torn rags, torn into shreds, stained. It seemed like my love was only one-sided, and it would always be this way somewhere between then and now.

‘I do not feel the same for you, Xerina.’

I scoffed at the ringing of his words when he left to train. I hated this rushing feeling, this claustrophobic bar, the alcohol, the music, the laughs. Fuck! I hate myself. Why did I have to fall for a man like him?

“I need some fresh air.” Before Christine could protest, I pushed my chair back, standing up to walk out the door. Her concerned blue eyes looked at me, and I felt bad for dragging her this late at night. I drew myself away from her. “I’ll be back soon.”

She was always worried for me so much that sometimes it scared me. I gave her an assuring smile knowing if I left without saying anything, she wasn’t going to sleep the entire night.

“Xerina—”

I grabbed my purse, stuffing my phone in it and my wallet, all while holding my tears together.

“Please, leave me alone for a bit.”

The music blasted in my ears as my eyes stung with unshed tears. Before she could see them, I turned around and walked out the door. My heels stomped over the cemented pavement, and I made my way into the dark, empty streets. It was truly late in the night. The only light illuminating the streets was the broken, dim lamp light.

I pulled my hoodie over my head and lowered my head as the ache spread deeper into me. The night was blurry to me as his feelings were for me; every emotion was heightened. Yet I continued walking.

When the hair on the back of my neck stood, I pushed my hands into the warm pockets of my trench coat and fisted them together. A rough breeze moved past me, carrying a rough note of my misery. And I was nonchalant. The alcohol was supposed to make me feel better, but I was feeling worse. More bitter.

I rolled my attention to the misty sky where the full moon glowered brighter than ever. I left the house with Christine after a few days when Rasmus left for training before giving me a terrible heartbreak. My father was reluctant; my mother convinced him. Studies were just an excuse; I just couldn’t live in the same house where he lived and couldn’t fathom the ghost of his memories there. It was too much for me to take in.

When Rasmus left, that was the most painful goodbye, and it wasn’t for him himself but for the memories of him that I couldn’t erase. If he didn’t love me, then why did he care for me? Why was he always there when I needed a shoulder? Then why did he take my first kiss?! Did that mean nothing to him?!

There were no visible signs of pain he caused within me. He marked his existence throughout my hollow soul. And now… like a whisper of wind, he was gone.

I thought maybe we had a chance; maybe I should give it some time and wait. But where did it land me? I devoted myself to him, and now he was bringing a girl home this week to rub salt on my bleeding wounds. I didn’t want to go and see him with another woman when it should’ve been me. But I didn’t want to upset my parents. Mom missed me like crazy; Papa insisted I visit them so that he could see me. It had been so long since I last visited them.

The tall, thick trees surrounded the outskirts of the town as I made my way down the street. I was reminded of him in every single thing I passed by. Be it the smoldering blaze of breeze or moonlight.

I hated him, yet I couldn’t stop myself from yearning for his love. It may sound like a teenage crush to some, but it was more than that for me. Rasmus was the only man I ever imagined myself to be with. I don’t know what made me love him this much, but my feelings for him weren’t delusional.

Cause if they were, I wouldn’t be in so much pain knowing that the only person I loved was going to be with some other woman. He wouldn’t hold me like he’d hold her; there’d be no soft touches, no caresses, no stealing glances. Everything around me felt so unreal and terrifying that the only thing that grounded me and made me feel alive—was this pain.

The pain was so real and tangible that it went deep.

My steps fastened as the growing suffocation started expanding in my chest. I struggled to breathe. My tears ran down my cheeks.

Love was shallow, selfish, and a fucking illusion. It was a lie wrapped in ribbons. And the pain was real; it gave us exactly what we wanted. It felt how it should be—distracting, consuming, intense, and…hot.

I walked down the streets for another minute before I reached a familiar bookstore. I’d buy some more today. Cause reading was the only way to escape reality. At least I could love him in the imaginary world.

But before I could step forward towards the bookstore, my steps halted. Why was I still seeking him when he never cared? Would he have cared if it was me bringing a man home?

He wouldn’t.

He never would ‘cause he never… cared. He doesn’t care for you, Xerina. Then why are you crying for him? We cry for the person who left us, but he never left us because he was never with us. You’d never be his first, then why are you waiting for a man who doesn’t even look at you?

It was hard to breathe as I stumbled my steps back. My eyes widened as tears cascaded down like a waterfall, realization settling deep in.

That’s it. It was hard to breathe.

Or blink.

Or even glance at the bookstore.

I realized nothing was holding us back. I was a fool, a fool desperately trying to get his attention. Love was not something I could snatch from him; it had to be given with care. I was not worthy—No! He wasn’t worthy of my love. I forcefully wiped the tears with the back of my hand as I shuffled through my purse.

If he was happy and inconsiderate of my feelings, I should reciprocate his actions.

My hands worked automatically, and I clumsily dialed the first number I could find. It ran, one time, two times… and then he picked.

“Hello?”

I took in a sharp, deep breath. “Hello, Dylan…it’s me, Xerina. Are you free this weekend?” I called one of my friends. He was one of the brilliant students in our class and someone who liked me since the first year. Since I knew how it felt not to get the person I liked, I would not make him endure the same pain.

“Hey…uh…yeah!” he drowsily said, seeming like my call startled him.

“Will you be my boyfriend?”