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Are you jealous my hamster?

last update Last Updated: 2024-09-07 22:50:15

She knew they needed to talk, walking away was not the correct choice, but the words stuck in her throat. She could see the confusion and hurt in his expressions earlier, and she wanted to turn back and explain herself, but something held her back. The silence between them was deafening, and every time she opened her mouth to speak, the words died on her lips. She wanted to reach out to him, to make things right, but she couldn't find the courage to do it.

Her wrist was grabbed before she even took a step forward and she was pulled back. Her back hit his chest and he wrapped his hands around her waist.

“ Pearl, it's not what you think. ”

He turned her over to face him, his hand still at her waist.

“ Lucas, I think we are done. ”

Pearl spoke. Her voice was tiny and soft. She felt her heart drop with those words but had to do it. She couldn't let him make a fool of herself. She was raised as a girl with self respect and she won't allow anyone to step on it. Not even him.

She tried t
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  • Wrapped The Bully Around My Fingers   The bully fears only her.

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  • Wrapped The Bully Around My Fingers   The second incident of bullying.

    Rosie looked at them with hatred. She clenched her hands into a tight fist. Her nails dug deep in her palm. It was soon lunch break and Anastasia dragged Pearl with her to the canteen. She couldn't even say bye to Lucas. “ Oh god slow down I am going to fall ”Pearl spoke. She was being dragged so hurriedly that she could barely keep her balance while Anastasia was showing no sign of slowing down. At last Pearl gave up and jogged with her. They reached the canteen and spotted an empty seat. “ sit here and let me bring something for us to eat ”Soon Anastasia was back holding their snacks. They settled down on their chairs. Pearl took a bite of her burger. “ It's good ”Anastasia nodded and took a bite herself. She nodded again. “ Yeah ”On their way back to the classroom, they passed by other students, who were also making their way to class. The sound of their chatter and laughter filled the air as they chatted and joked with each other. Suddenly there was silence. Pearl was con

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  • Wrapped The Bully Around My Fingers   It didn't matter anymore

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Latest chapter

  • Wrapped The Bully Around My Fingers   Pearl

    It had been a week. Seven days of pretending to be Pearl. Of swallowing down the truth like a secret that might rot me from the inside out. No one noticed. Not really. They still called me by the name that wasn’t mine. Still treated me like the girl who arrived at the academy dazed and forgetful. Still saw the version of me they expected to see. But I saw it. In the mirror. In the way I stood. The way my voice had softened, lilting into the same cadence Rosie used to have when she whispered to the stars from her bedroom window. I saw it in the way my fingers reached up—absent, automatic—to tuck my hair behind my ear whenever I was nervous. Just like she used to do. Just like I used to do. Rosie was slipping out of me like light through cracked glass, and I didn’t know how to stop it. And Lucas… he noticed something. I could feel it. He didn’t say anything. But I’d catch him staring sometimes, brow creased in that quiet, careful way of his—like he was trying to

  • Wrapped The Bully Around My Fingers   Pearl

    And I screamed and screamed as loud as I can to stop the voices in my head, to hush them from consuming me entirely. The room was pitch-black, but I could still see the flames. Still hear the screech of tires, the shattering glass, the last words my mother ever said to me—Rosie, close your eyes. And I had. For years. But now they were open. Wide open. And everything hurt. The door slammed open. I barely had time to breathe before he was there—Lucas, heart in his throat, panic in his eyes. “Pearl!” He was at my side, hands cupping my face like I might vanish. “What happened? Are you okay?” I couldn’t speak. Not right away. Because looking at him felt like bleeding. He was older now. Broader. More haunted. But he still had the same eyes—the ones that used to look at me like I was his world. Not Pearl. Rosie. And that was the part that shattered me most. He was holding me like I was someone else. Like I was a girl with a different name, a different story. But I

  • Wrapped The Bully Around My Fingers   Pearl

    The candlelight is low. Flickering. Dying. I walk barefoot down a hallway lined with mirrors—dozens of them, tall and arched, gilded in gold that’s flaking away. The floor is marble, but my footsteps don’t echo. It’s like the air itself is swallowing the sound. Heavy. Watching. My dress clings to me, unfamiliar. Pale gold, stitched with roses. I don’t remember putting it on. Everything smells like rosewater and smoke. I pause beside a mirror. My reflection stares back, but there’s something off. I lean closer. The tilt of my head, the shape of my mouth, the line of my shoulders—it’s all right, and yet… wrong. Like I’ve seen this face on someone else. It’s me. Of course it’s me. But my stomach tightens. I force myself to look away. That’s when I see him. Daniel, standing at the far end of the corridor, dressed in black, shadows curled around his shoulders like a cloak. He holds a bouquet of roses—blackened, wilting, soaked in something that drips down his wrist.

  • Wrapped The Bully Around My Fingers   Pearl

    I press the phone to my ear and glance at the stars. The rooftop is cold beneath me, slates hard against my back. The wind carries that soft chill that always makes me feel like something’s about to shift.My mom’s voice comes through the speaker, warm and clipped with concern.“You sound tired, sweetie. Are they overworking you again?”I let out a breath—half a laugh, half exhaustion.“No, it’s fine. Just a lot of assignments.”A pause.“And late-night walks,” I almost add. “And watching someone unravel.” But I don’t.She hums thoughtfully. I can hear her stirring something, probably tea. Home always sounds like comfort.“Have you made any new friends yet? You never talk about anyone there.”I hesitate, then lie.“Yeah. A few.”She doesn’t press. She never does. Maybe she thinks I’m just quiet. Or maybe she’s learned not to dig when I’m like this—floating somewhere far away from where my body is.“Your father says hi,” she says. I can hear him grumbling in the background, something a

  • Wrapped The Bully Around My Fingers   Evelyne

    I’ve always hated mirrors.They show too much. Too honestly.But now—Now, I can't stop staring.The girl in the glass tilts her head. She’s beautiful in that haunting, aristocratic way. Rosie Miller’s beauty was always cold, like marble warmed by candlelight.And now… it’s mine. Mother did everything so that I look like her. The cheekbones took two surgeries. The lips were easy—subtle filler and muscle memory. I even learned how she blinked. Slowly. Like she knew the world would wait for her.I lean in, brushing a lock of black hair behind my ear, her signature habit. I trace the light scar at my neck. A perfect replica from her dead body.Rosie was always the star. The one with the spotlight in her eyes. The chosen daughter. The heir. The girl people died for.But she’s dead now.And I’m not.I trace the curve of my jaw with one finger, still bruised faintly under the skin where the bone was shaved. Months of healing. Years of training. Voice lessons. Diary entries memorized. Even

  • Wrapped The Bully Around My Fingers   Lucas

    The wind clawed at the windows like it was trying to warn me. I stood at the edge balcony leaning against the railing. Below, the ocean was bathed in silver moonlight, still and too perfect. A lie, like everything else lately. The moon hung low tonight, pale and sharp-edged. Pearl would say it looked like a blade. My phone buzzed once on the table. The number flashed. Cale. I snatched it up. “Report.” “Sir,” he said, voice crisp, but edged with something else. Hesitation. “ I have the report .” The cold that slid through me wasn’t a surprise—it was confirmation. I said nothing. Just waited. “She’s not Rosie,” he continued. “… she’s not the one who died in that accident.” I closed my eyes. My chest didn’t rise. I was stone now. “I had to dig deep, sir. Most of the records were burned or erased, but a few medical files survived in private storage. Enough to run a sequence. And... it matched someone else.” “Who?” My voice came out hoarse, like it hadn’t been used in days. “He

  • Wrapped The Bully Around My Fingers   Pearl

    Apollo whined softly as I knelt beside him, his blue eyes watching me with quiet protest. His paw pressed against the doorframe like he understood what it meant—that he couldn’t follow me past this point. “I know,” I whispered, running a hand gently down the sleek curve of his back. “I don’t like it either. " He nuzzled my wrist, and I swallowed hard. “I’ll be back after classes, then we'll go back home, alright? You’ll be safe here.” My voice sounded too sure. Like I was convincing myself more than him. He tilted his head, ears flicking at some distant sound, but stayed close—refusing to move from the doorway. “I have to go,” I said, brushing my thumb just under his chin, where the fur was softer. “You know the rules. No panther cubs allowed in Elite Garden’s holy halls.” my phone ringed again, I looked down it was Lucas calling me. " yes, I am coming. ” That almost earned a huff from him. Almost. I smiled down at him. " it's your dad, the classes are going to start

  • Wrapped The Bully Around My Fingers   Lucas

    The engine purred beneath my hand, smooth and obedient like always. The car was built for silence and speed—one of my father’s more useful indulgences. Black exterior, sleek leather interior, the kind of vehicle that announced your presence before you ever stepped out of it. Pearl sat beside me, legs crossed at the ankle, eyes on the window. The early morning light painted the world gold, but she didn’t seem to notice it. She hadn’t said much all morning. I kept one hand on the wheel, the other resting near the gearshift, close enough to brush against her thigh if I reached. I didn’t. Music played softly in the background, something mellow she usually liked. She didn’t hum along like she used to. I stole a glance at her. Eyes open, but distant. Her fingers were curled in her lap, nails tracing the lines of her skirt like she was trying to count something she couldn’t name. She looked tired—not the kind of tired that sleep fixed. The kind that lived in the bones. “You okay?” I

  • Wrapped The Bully Around My Fingers   Pearl

    The next morning, I move like nothing happened. I pour coffee, feed Apollo, fold a blanket left on the couch. Lucas is in the shower, and I can hear the water running upstairs like white noise. Safe. Familiar. Grounding. But every now and then—just in the gaps between movements—I feel it again. The weight. Not heavy enough to drag me down, but just enough to notice. Like walking through air that's a little too still. Like forgetting what you were doing mid-sentence. Like something watching from the corners, but only when you don’t look directly. I tell myself I’m fine. And mostly, I am. But the dream clings. Not in vivid images—those faded as soon as I woke—but in texture. In the way I flinch when the kettle whistles. In the way I glance at the kitchen doorway without meaning to. In the way Apollo follows me from room to room, tail low, eyes tracking the corners of the ceiling as if he remembers too. I don’t tell Lucas. I make him breakfast. I brush my fingers throug

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